"Does the name Vioxx mean anything to you?"
"Well, that's not exactly the same thing, but I believe they're still fighting that out in court."
"Who wins in court is not the issue. People could be dying because of this product."
The resident shrugged again.
"Even if the product that was tested is viable, it may very well be that this product lot was infected. Who knows, maybe some terrorist planted something in our lab."
"I still don't know what to tell you. You've done everything you can. Now wait and see. I'm sure they'll get back to you." He glanced at his watch. "Sorry, I have to go."
David rubbed the back of his neck. The muscles were knotted. He wasn't overreacting. What happened if he was right?
He couldn't believe how close he'd come to making Josh use the strip.
A cold sweat washed down his back. Anyone could be using one right now.
He made up his mind. He dialed the number for the White House again and got through. He punched numbers until he was speaking to a living human.
"Yes. This is David Link. I am the terrorist behind the NFI outbreak…. Yes, you heard me correctly. The NFI outbreak… No, I don't want you to put me on hold. I've just been taken off the research vessel that had all the kids on it, and I'm being held in the VA Medical Center…. That's right, the VA Medical Center in Maryland. Yes, I am behind every single one of the outbreaks. Yes, David Link. I work for Reynolds Pharmaceuticals. Okay… now listen to me, because I'm only going to say this to you once. Are you ready?"
David definitely had the White House operator's attention.
"As we speak, ten thousand infected products are being shipped all over the country. Ten thousand. That means the number of NFI deaths so far is nothing compared to what will happen tomorrow if you don't get someone over to this hospital now."
Chapter Forty-Six
Austyn couldn't have felt more welcome.
After asking him a couple of questions about his background and realizing their visitor's interest in science and research, the physician gave him a complete tour of the hospital. He talked about the staff and their publications. Dr. Mansori had been here since before the Iranian revolution, and his thirty-year tenure gave him the air of a proud parent.
Austyn didn't want to stray too far and for too long away from Fahimah, though, so after a couple of hours they made their way back toward the wing where Rahaf was staying.
There was a nurse outside the door, and she told Austyn that Fahimah was looking for him.
He knocked on the door and Fahimah opened it.
Austyn had to keep from putting his arms immediately around her. She had a look on her face that he could only describe as one of gain and loss. She had found something that she knew she was about to have torn from her.
"I told Rahaf about you," Fahimah said softly. She drew him into the room.
Austyn looked at the bed where Rahaf lay. The absurdity of imagining she could be responsible for the terror in the U.S. would have been comical if it were not for her condition. She was beyond frail. The years and her illnesses had been very hard on her. She looked so much older than her age. Her intelligent green eyes, though, were very much alive.
"Mr. Newman," she said hoarsely.
"Please, call me Austyn," he said, approaching her. The head of the hospital bed had been raised and a couple of pillows were propped up beside her. There were no IVs or any other monitoring devices hooked up to her. His gaze went over the place where her leg should have been.
He saw, pinned to her hospital gown, a gold charm. He recognized it as the one the woman at the clothing store in Erbil had given Fahimah.
"My sister tells me that she owes her freedom to you."
Now he was embarrassed. He looked at Fahimah and shook his head. "All I can say is that I'm sorry, though I know that will never be enough."
"Let's not discuss politics," Rahaf said, wincing. She was sounding very tired and short of breath. "We all are victims… every one of us."
It was obvious that she was in a great deal of pain. Dr. Mansori had mentioned that, other than shots of morphine to ease her suffering, she wouldn't allow treatment that would needlessly prolong her life. She moved slightly and motioned to a chair near the bed.
"Please sit down," Fahimah said, repeating her sister's gesture.
Austyn did as he was told but not before Fahimah brought another chair that was by the window closer to the bed, too, where she could sit.
"Fahimah tells me you are facing an epidemic in America."
Austyn summarized the situation, focusing first on the strain of bacteria they'd never seen before — with the exception of what had been discovered in Rahaf's laboratory. He gave her as much background information as he had on the cases discovered since that first outbreak. He also mentioned the latest suspicion that some kind of cold medication might be infecting the victims.
Rahaf listened to everything he said. Despite her pain and obvious discomfort, Austyn could see she comprehended every word.
"My study initially started on a family of Panton-Valentine leukocidin," she began softly, "which, as you know, is toxic to cells. They can cause leukocyte, or white blood cell destruction, pneumonia and necrotizing fasciitis…."
Austyn pulled out a pen and paper and scribbled her words as fast as he could. She told him the details of the study that she'd been doing prior to the discovery of something unexpected, the mutation of the bacteria into a super-microbe. Despite her illness and physical frailty, her mind was sharp and clear. She had no trouble remembering anything.
"Although MRSA… methicillin-resistant staphylococcus aureus… has traditionally been seen as a hospital-associated infection, MRS A strains have begun to appear outside of hospitals and clinics in recent years. This specific strain is definitely a community-associated one," Rahaf told him.
"As you know," she continued, "MRSA strains are resistant to the usual antibiotics, but a curious interbreeding with community staph has led to the genetic acquisition of a PVL factor, which in turn has produced a series of changes that make these strains particularly invasive, as well as resistant."
"My understanding," Austyn said to her, "is that staphylococcal infections are an issue only when the individual has suffered a skin break or an open wound, but this isn't always the case with these victims."
Rahaf closed her eyes for a moment, and Austyn looked at Fahimah.
"There is no need to do this now," he said. "I don't want to tire—"
"No, Austyn," Rahaf said. "Just give me a moment."
Fahimah kept her eyes on her sister's face, and Austyn could read the sorrow there. Rahaf drew in a deep breath and looked at him.
"What you say is true." She nodded. "My laboratory experiences were in a controlled environment. But my contention is that, in the real world, this strand can colonize in the mouth and the throat. You see, it is in the genetic combination of these three microbes: staphylococcus, carried by thirty percent of healthy adults in their nose, the strep infection that must be present in the throat, and an outside staphylococcal cassette chromosome, introduced separately that forms the basis for the creation of the deadly new strain… you have a name for it."
"We just call it NFI," he said. "Necrotizing Fasciitis Infection."