The two men hesitated a second, then returned to their seats.
“I don’t know what you are thinking,” Dettling said. “But whatever’s going on in your head, you’re wrong.”
“Am I?”
Glancing to the side, Sanjay grabbed hold of the senior manager’s shirt and pulled him into the doorway with him. One of the men in the room gasped.
“He’s hurt,” Dettling said, rising to his feet. “What have you done?”
He took a step toward the door.
“Stop,” Sanjay said.
When Dettling took another step, Sanjay did something he would have never thought he was capable of doing — he pressed the thumb of his free hand against the wound on the old manager’s shoulder. The man screamed, the gag barely blocking any of the noise.
Dettling stopped. “Don’t hurt him.”
Sanjay eased back on his thumb, but didn’t remove it completely. “Who has keys to the room next door?”
A collective blank stare.
Sanjay pointed the gun at the man to Dettling’s left. “The keys?”
This time there was a shrug or two. Then Dettling said, “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what you’re—”
Sanjay pulled the trigger.
The man next to Dettling jammed backward against his chair and then tumbled to the ground.
“Who?” Sanjay asked, aiming the gun at the next person in line.
Two of the remaining men pulled sets of keys from their pockets and tossed them across the room.
“It’s the silver one,” one of them said. “With the J on it.”
Sanjay shoved the senior manager back to the cooks. Then, without taking his eyes off the men at the table, leaned down and picked up one set of keys.
“Sanjay, please,” Dettling said. He was holding his hands in front of him, his palms facing out, in an obvious attempt to show he meant no harm. “Why don’t you put the gun down, and let us get medical assistance for our friends?”
Sanjay rose back to his feet, his eyes blazing. “And who will give medical attention to all the people of Mumbai when they become sick from your spray?”
“Whatever you think you’ve heard is wrong. The spray is only for—”
“What I’ve heard? Mr. Dettling, I have seen what your spray does. I have seen my cousin and the men he was working with dying from it. The Sage Flu. Are you going to tell me the nurse was lying?”
“Of course she was. Your cousin was only suffering from extreme exposure to the malaria spray. It was a very unfortunate event, but that’s all it was.”
Sanjay grabbed his captive and pulled him back. “And your senior manager here? He has confirmed that I am right. Are you saying he lied, too?”
“Yes. He was just telling you what you wanted to hear.”
The worried look on the faces of the men behind Dettling belied his words.
“Then you are saying I won’t find any of the vaccine in the room next door.”
That caught the men by surprise. Even Dettling lost some of his composure before he recovered and said, “It’s where we keep our medical supplies, so of course you’ll find medicine in there. But a vaccine? I’m sorry. I don’t even know what it would be for.”
Sanjay wanted so much to pull the trigger again, and put a bullet right through the center of Mr. Dettling’s chest, but that was a line his conscience was not yet willing to let him cross.
He looked over at one of the cooks. “Come here.” When the man joined him, he said, “Take this.” He handed him the gun. “Don’t let any of them leave. Remember, they are trying to kill your family.”
The cook nodded, his face hard and determined.
Sanjay motioned to the other cook to follow him, and bring the senior manager along.
“You’re not going to find anything!” Dettling called out as Sanjay moved away.
“Shut up,” the cook with the gun said. “I am not nearly as nice as my friend.”
Sanjay used the silver J key to open the closet door. The medical supply room was about the size of the main room in Kusum’s apartment, and was cooler than the corridor, apparently having its own temperature-control system. Through the middle and along each wall were shelves filled with medical supplies.
He pulled the gag out of the old man’s mouth. “Where is it?”
The manager gasped several times.
“Where?” Sanjay repeated.
“Over there,” the man said, his voice weak. “In the glass cabinets.”
Sanjay dragged the man across the room.
The cabinets were built into the shelving unit. There were two of them side by side, each about Sanjay’s height, and two meters wide. Inside were boxes and bottles of varying sizes.
“Which one is it?” Sanjay asked.
“In there,” the man said, pointing at the second cabinet. “Those bottles on the third shelf down.”
Sanjay opened the cabinet, pulled out one of the small bottles, and raised it to the light. The liquid inside was clear, not tinged with orange like what he’d been given.
“You’re lying.”
“Why would I do that?”
“This isn’t the vaccine.”
“Of course it is.”
“Then you take it.”
“I’ve already been vaccinated.”
“I don’t care.”
Sanjay spotted a box full of prepackaged, ready-to-use syringes on a nearby shelf. He opened one, and stuck the needle through the rubber cap on the bottle. He drew in the same amount the nurse had given him and, in turn, he had given Kusum. He moved the needle toward the manager’s arm.
“No,” the man said before Sanjay could plunge it in.
Sanjay held the needle just above the manager’s skin. “Why not?”
“I…I made a mistake. That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t know,” the man said, though Sanjay was willing to bet the man did know.
Instead of asking him again where the vaccine was, Sanjay searched through the bottles, looking for the orange tinge. Finally he found two boxes of bottles sitting together in the first cabinet that matched his memory of the vaccine.
He held one in front of the man. “This is it.”
By the defeated look on the man’s face, Sanjay knew he was right. He added the box of syringes to the two boxes of vaccine, and headed to the door where the cook was waiting. Stopping just inside, he took a quick look around. There were no windows in the supply room, and the only way in and out was the single door.
“Stay here,” he said to the manager, and went out into the corridor.
Sanjay and the two cooks escorted the other managers individually into the medical supply room. The only exception was that they allowed Mr. Dettling to help his injured colleague.
After making sure they’d taken all the mobile phones from the men, they shut the door and jammed a chair from the conference room under the handle. It wouldn’t keep them inside for too long, but it would be enough for Sanjay and his new friends to get away.
He gave each cook a few of the needles and several bottles of vaccine, then instructed them on how to administer it.
They thanked him, and left as fast as they could.
Before taking off, Sanjay found a bag in one of the rooms, put the remaining vaccine and needles in it, then hurried from the building.
“Your identification,” the guard said as he walked by the gate.
“Oh,” Sanjay groaned. “I totally forgot. Look, you can call Mr. Dettling again while I wait, if you want. But please hurry. He told me I needed to deliver this across town as soon as possible.” He held up the bag.
The guard frowned, then shook his head and waved him through. “Next time, don’t forget.”
“I won’t,” Sanjay said. “Thank you.”
Less than a minute later, he was speeding away from the compound, barely believing he’d actually done it. He had the vaccine, more than enough for Kusum’s family. He couldn’t wait to meet up with them again, sure that they were already out of town and nearing the rendezvous point.