Marissa smiled innocently. “Regardless, I think we’d both rather spend a little more time flying than going back through Hong Kong. Do you agree, Tristan?”

“Right you are, luv,” Tristan said.

“Here are all the statistics we could get on such short notice,” Cyrill Dubchek said, handing computer printout pages to Marissa.

Marissa, Tristan, and Cyrill were sitting in Cyrill’s office at the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta, Georgia. Marissa and Tristan had just arrived that afternoon from their grueling flight across the Pacific, flying from Bangkok to Honolulu to L.A. to Atlanta.

Even though they were exhausted, Marissa insisted on going directly to the CDC.

Marissa studied the pages carefully. Tristan looked at Cyrill and shrugged. Tristan was still in the dark as to Marissa’s suspicions.

“Just as I thought,” Marissa said, raising her eyes from the computer paper. “These statistics mirror those that I found in Australia with the FCA data. They show that the Women’s Clinics around the country have a high rate of pregnancy per patient in their in-vitro fertilization program but a low success rate per cycle. In other words, most IVF patients at Women’s Clinics get pregnant but it takes multiple cycles before they’re met with success. Look how the success rate shoots up after the fifth IVF attempt.”

Marissa pointed to the statistics spelled out on the computer printout she was holding in her hands.

“That’s not so surprising,” Tristan said. “In every clinic, most patients have to go through several attempts before they conceive. What are you getting at?”

A knock on Cyrill’s door interrupted them before Marissa could reply. It was one of the technicians from the lab.

“We have the results on those ELISA tests,” she said.

“That was fast,” Cyrill commented.

“They were very positive,” she said. “Even at high dilutions.”

“All of them?” Cyrill asked incredulously.

“All of them,” the technician repeated.

“That’s the proof I wanted,” Marissa said. When she’d first arrived at the CDC, she’d gone directly to the lab to have some blood drawn. Then she’d made arrangements for her serum to be tested with the ELISA test for BCG along with Rebecca Ziegler’s and Evelyn Welles’ serums.

“I don’t understand,” Cyrill said. “How can that be?”