the supply of cottage cheese found in the kitchen that was used to refill the bin, and there was no evidence of bacterial contamination. Also no evidence of the bacteria in the kitchen or any other area tested.” Agent Carmichael paused, and Kelly gestured for him to continue. “Taken together, these facts suggest the cottage-cheese bin was dosed with the bacteria sometime after six, making this a deliberate event.”
“I still don’t understand,” she said. “Even if someone drank a culture of our Bacillus cereus, it’s unlikely they’d get ill. It’s not considered a pathogen.”
“This particular bacteria had been modified to express the anthrax toxin. This was a calculated bio-attack, designed to look like a natural outbreak of severe food poisoning,” James said.
Kelly sat in silence, absorbing the news. A chill skittered down her spine, and she rubbed her hands over her arms in an attempt to smooth away the goose bumps that popped up on her skin. How many times did something like this happen? How many times was a supposedly accidental or natural event really a deliberate attempt by others to harm?
“Why do you think Dr. Collins has anything to do with this?” she asked, still not clear about his alleged connection to the event. “We’re not the only lab that works with Bacillus cereus. ”
Agent Carmichael glanced meaningfully at James. Kelly didn’t understand what that look was supposed to convey, but apparently James did because he piped up. “That’s true,” he allowed. “But we contacted all the labs that regularly work with this bacteria, and they all told us the same thing—the strain identified in the outbreak was obtained from Dr. Collins’s lab.”
“Furthermore,” Carmichael broke in, “their stocks are all accounted for. No missing vials. No suspicious activity.”
“So you think it came from our lab,” Kelly stated. It wasn’t a question. She wouldn’t be here if they didn’t think the bacteria came from George’s lab. However, that didn’t necessarily mean George was at fault—any number of personnel could have accessed the bacteria and passed it along. She told them as much, but Agent Carmichael and James both shook their heads.
“The bacterial modifications suggest someone with know-how engineered this strain. Our experts tell us this isn’t something a rotation student or glass washer would be able to do.”
“Wait a second,” she said, her brain finally kicking in. “You said the bacteria was modified to produce anthrax toxin?” At their nods, she continued, “So these people essentially had intestinal anthrax, which has a high mortality rate. But only one person died.” They studied her silently, and she raised a brow, waiting for them to catch on. When they didn’t speak, she let out a sigh. “Is it possible you made a mistake and that the bacteria wasn’t modified at all?”
Carmichael shook his head firmly. “I wish it were that simple. The lab showed that the gene for the anthrax toxin had been mutated to produce a less virulent form. Do you know how to do that?”
Kelly mutely nodded in the affirmative.
“Does anyone else in your lab know how to do that?”
She shook her head. No. She was the only postdoc; the others were graduate students, whose projects didn’t include molecular biology, or undergraduate rotation students, who performed the most mundane of tasks.
“Were you aware that Dr. Collins’s wife has cancer?”
Kelly jerked back in her chair, Carmichael’s words hitting her like a blow. Ruth was sick? Why hadn’t George said anything to her? Granted, he wasn’t the most demonstrative person, but over the past several months their relationship had warmed somewhat, to the point that she would have expected him to tell her something major like this.
“I take it from your reaction Dr. Collins hadn’t shared that news with you,” James remarked drily.
“No, he hadn’t,” she whispered.
Carmichael opened his file
“I still don’t understand,” she said. “Even if someone drank a culture of our Bacillus cereus, it’s unlikely they’d get ill. It’s not considered a pathogen.”
“This particular bacteria had been modified to express the anthrax toxin. This was a calculated bio-attack, designed to look like a natural outbreak of severe food poisoning,” James said.
Kelly sat in silence, absorbing the news. A chill skittered down her spine, and she rubbed her hands over her arms in an attempt to smooth away the goose bumps that popped up on her skin. How many times did something like this happen? How many times was a supposedly accidental or natural event really a deliberate attempt by others to harm?
“Why do you think Dr. Collins has anything to do with this?” she asked, still not clear about his alleged connection to the event. “We’re not the only lab that works with Bacillus cereus. ”
Agent Carmichael glanced meaningfully at James. Kelly didn’t understand what that look was supposed to convey, but apparently James did because he piped up. “That’s true,” he allowed. “But we contacted all the labs that regularly work with this bacteria, and they all told us the same thing—the strain identified in the outbreak was obtained from Dr. Collins’s lab.”
“Furthermore,” Carmichael broke in, “their stocks are all accounted for. No missing vials. No suspicious activity.”
“So you think it came from our lab,” Kelly stated. It wasn’t a question. She wouldn’t be here if they didn’t think the bacteria came from George’s lab. However, that didn’t necessarily mean George was at fault—any number of personnel could have accessed the bacteria and passed it along. She told them as much, but Agent Carmichael and James both shook their heads.
“The bacterial modifications suggest someone with know-how engineered this strain. Our experts tell us this isn’t something a rotation student or glass washer would be able to do.”
“Wait a second,” she said, her brain finally kicking in. “You said the bacteria was modified to produce anthrax toxin?” At their nods, she continued, “So these people essentially had intestinal anthrax, which has a high mortality rate. But only one person died.” They studied her silently, and she raised a brow, waiting for them to catch on. When they didn’t speak, she let out a sigh. “Is it possible you made a mistake and that the bacteria wasn’t modified at all?”
Carmichael shook his head firmly. “I wish it were that simple. The lab showed that the gene for the anthrax toxin had been mutated to produce a less virulent form. Do you know how to do that?”
Kelly mutely nodded in the affirmative.
“Does anyone else in your lab know how to do that?”
She shook her head. No. She was the only postdoc; the others were graduate students, whose projects didn’t include molecular biology, or undergraduate rotation students, who performed the most mundane of tasks.
“Were you aware that Dr. Collins’s wife has cancer?”
Kelly jerked back in her chair, Carmichael’s words hitting her like a blow. Ruth was sick? Why hadn’t George said anything to her? Granted, he wasn’t the most demonstrative person, but over the past several months their relationship had warmed somewhat, to the point that she would have expected him to tell her something major like this.
“I take it from your reaction Dr. Collins hadn’t shared that news with you,” James remarked drily.
“No, he hadn’t,” she whispered.
Carmichael opened his file
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