Robin Cook - Terminal

“Sean, this is going too far!” Janet said. She stepped up to Sean.

“Get out of my way!” Sean snarled. He shoved her roughly to the side.

Already dismayed at the appearance of the gun, Janet was doubly shocked at the sudden change in Sean’s personality. The cruel and vicious sound of his voice and the expression on his face cowed her.

Sean succeeded in herding the three men into the narrow closet. He quickly closed and locked the door behind them. Pocketing the gun, he moved some sizable furniture against the door, including a heavy five-drawer file cabinet.

Satisfied, he grabbed Janet’s hand and started toward the exit. Janet tried to hold back. They got halfway to the stairway when she managed to pull free.

“I’m not going with you,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” Sean whispered forcibly.

“The way you talked to me back there,” she said. “I don’t know you.”

“Please!” Sean voiced through clenched teeth. “That was theatrics for the benefit of the others. If things don’t go the way I imagine they will, you’ll be able to contend that you were coerced into this whole affair. With the work I have to do back at the lab in Miami, there’s a chance things might get worse before they get better.”

“Be straight with me,” Janet said. “Stop talking in riddles. What’s going through your mind?”

“It’s a bit much to explain at the moment,” Sean said. “Right now we have to get out of here. I can’t tell how long that storage closet will hold those three. Once they’re out, the cat’s out of the bag.”

More confused than ever, Janet followed Sean down the stairs, through the first-floor lab, and out the front of the building. Kurt Wanamaker’s Cherokee was angled in from the street. Sean motioned for Janet to get in.

“Convenient and thoughtful of them to have left the keys,” Sean said.

“As if that would have made any difference to you,” Janet said.

Sean started the car, but then immediately killed the engine.

“What now?” Janet asked.

“In the excitement I forgot that I need some of those reagents from upstairs,” Sean said. He got out of the car and leaned in the window. “This won’t take but a minute. I’ll be right back.”

Janet tried to protest, but Sean was gone. Not that he’d cared much about her feelings about any of this mess so far. She got out of the car and began to pace the length of it nervously.

Thankfully, Sean returned in a few minutes carrying a large cardboard box which he shoved into the back seat. He got in behind the wheel and started the car. Janet got in next to him. They pulled out into the road and headed north.

“See if there’s a map in the glove compartment,” he said.

Janet searched and found one. She opened it up to the Florida Keys. Sean took the map and studied it while driving. “We can’t count on getting all the way to Miami with this car,” he said. “As soon as those three get out of the closet, they’ll realize it’s missing. The police will start looking for it and since there’s only one road north, it won’t be hard to find.”

“I’m a fugitive,” Janet marveled. “Just like the man said when they found us in the closet. I don’t believe it. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

“There’s an airport at Marathon,” Sean said, ignoring Janet’s comment. “We’ll leave the car there and either rent a car or fly depending on the flight schedule.”

“I presume we’re going back to Miami,” Janet said.

“Absolutely,” Sean said. “We’ll go directly to Forbes.”

“What’s in the cardboard box?” Janet asked.

“A lot of reagents they don’t have in Miami,” Sean said.

“Like what?” Janet asked.

“Mostly DNA primer pairs and DNA probes for oncogenes,” Sean said. “I also found some primers and probes for virus nucleic acid, particularly those used for St. Louis encephalitis.”

“And you’re not about to tell me what all this is all about?” Janet said.

“It will sound too preposterous,” Sean admitted. “I want some proof first. I’ve got to prove it to myself before I tell anyone, even you.”

“At least give me a general idea of what you use these primers and probes for,” Janet said.

“DNA primers are used to find particular strands of DNA,” Sean said. “They seek out a single strand from millions of others, then react with it. Then, by a process called the Polymerase Chain Reaction, the original DNA strand can be amplified billions of times. That way it can be easily detected by a labeled DNA probe.”

“So using these primers and probes is like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack with a powerful magnet,” Janet said.

“Exactly,” Sean said, impressed with how quickly she grasped the science. “A very, very powerful magnet. I mean, it can find one particular DNA strand out of a solution of millions of others. In that sense it’s almost a magical magnet. I think the guy who developed the process should get the Nobel Prize.”

“Molecular biology is making big strides,” Janet said sleepily.

“It’s unbelievable,” Sean agreed. “Even those in the field have trouble keeping up.”

Janet struggled against ponderously heavy eyelids made worse by the muffled drone of the engine and the gentle jostling. She wanted to press Sean for more of an explanation of what was going through his mind, and she thought the best way to do that was to get him to talk about molecular biology and what he was planning to do when he got back to the lab at Forbes. But she was too exhausted to go on.

Janet had always found driving calming. Between the little amount of sleep she’d gotten aboard the boat and all the running around they’d been doing, it wasn’t long before she nodded off. She fell into a deep, much needed sleep and rested undisturbed until Sean pulled off Route 1 onto the grounds of the Marathon Airport.

“So far so good,” Sean said when he noticed Janet was stirring. “No roadblocks and no police.”

Janet sat up. For a moment she had no idea where she was, but then reality came back in a numbing flash. Now she felt worse than she had when she’d fallen asleep. Running her fingers through her hair made her think of a bird’s nest. It was hard for her to imagine what she looked like. She decided not to try.

Sean parked the car in the most crowded part of the parking lot. He thought its presence would be less likely to be noticed that way and thereby give them more time. Hefting the cardboard box from the back seat, he carried it into the terminal. He sent Janet to check on commuter flights to Miami while he went to inquire about the availability of rental cars. He was still searching for a rental agent when Janet returned to tell him that a flight to Miami left in twenty minutes.

The airline agent helpfully taped Sean’s box closed after plastering the outside with “fragile” stickers. The agent guaranteed the parcel would be treated with the utmost care. Later, as Sean was boarding the small turbo prop commuter plane, he saw someone casually tossing his box onto a luggage cart. But Sean wasn’t worried. He’d found bubble wrap back at Basic Diagnostics when he packed the reagents. He was reasonably confident his primers and probes would survive the trip.

Once at the Miami airport, he and Janet rented a car. They used Avis, avoiding Hertz in case the Hertz computer indicated that Janet Reardon was already in possession of a red Pontiac.

With the primers and probes in the back seat, they drove directly to Forbes. Sean parked next to his 4 x 4 near the entrance to the research building. He got out his Forbes ID card.

“You want to come in or what?” Sean asked. Exhaustion was catching up with him at this point too. “You can take this car back to the apartment if you want.”