Still half-asleep, Lopez stretched lazily in bed. The phone’s third ring brought her closer to consciousness. She grabbed for her cell phone. “Morning,” she said groggily, hoping to hear Cohen’s voice.

“Lina, it’s Nelson,” Amar said.

Lopez sat up in the bed. The clock read 6:43 A.M., meaning it wasn’t even 4:00 A.M. in San Francisco. She wondered if her boss ever slept. “What’s up, Nelson?”

“We have more problems in the Bay Area. The response to Oraloxin has been good here, but MRGAS continues to spread rapidly in the community.” His gruff voice echoed slightly in her ear. “We’re up to 194 confirmed cases, but probably there are hundreds more not yet diagnosed. The labs can’t keep up with the throat and skin swabs from potential cases pouring in from offices and clinics.”

A jolt of adrenaline cleared away the last of her lingering cobwebs. “And Seattle?” she said.

“Far as I know, there’s little change. Oraloxin is effective, but MRGAS is still spreading, although not at the same rate as in the Bay Area. Same story in Vancouver. Too early to tell in Portland and L.A.” He cleared his throat. “You left a message for me last night?”

“Nelson, there’s a problem with Oraloxin,” she said.

A moment of dead air. “What problem?” he asked guardedly.

She told him about their meeting with Neil Ryland and his disclosure regarding the bone marrow complication. “Everyone on Oraloxin will need daily blood testing,” she said.

“So we’ll do the blood tests,” Amar grunted. “Stopping the drug is not an option.”

In the silence that followed, Lopez sensed that Amar had more news. “What is it Nelson?” she prompted.

“Lina, have you found out any more about that phony drug dealer?” he asked.

“Not yet,” she said, wondering why he raised the subject he had previously avoided.

“I just heard something from our microbiology lab in Atlanta.” His voice took on an uncharacteristically conspiratorial edge. “We’re keeping this very hush-hush until we have confirmation.”

“Nelson?”

“One of our molecular biologists has isolated the resistance genes in MRGAS. She believes the DNA has been artificially amplified.” He cleared his throat. “Looks like your original hypothesis that MRGAS is man-made will pan out after all,” he said grudgingly, but then his voice softened. “I’m glad you stuck with it … in spite of me.”

Lopez swelled with quiet pride. “Thank you, Nelson.”

“But we need to take this to the FBI and Homeland Security, Lina.”

“I know,” she said, focusing back on the issue. “But Nelson, something is going on in Philadelphia. Maybe even at SeptoMed. Our best chance of finding out what, is to approach Forbes and the others as quietly as possible. We’re getting cooperation from a lieutenant with Philadelphia Homicide. And we’re meeting this morning with the SeptoMed execs.”

“That’s not your job, Lina,” he said.