Read Online The Janus Reprisal by Jamie Freveletti - Free Book Online

needs to be kept locked because it’s not easily transmitted. The hotel safe would suffice.”
    “And if it’s mutated?”
    “Perhaps then it would be considered biosafety-level 4 and the rules would be much stricter, but it’s not easy to mutate a virus,” Smith said. “If what they say is correct and if they have the nonmutated version in the cooler, it will take some work to alter it, even with a road map provided by the scientist. That should buy us some time,” Smith said.
    “Let’s just hope it’s enough. We have to reacquire those coolers just to be sure that the virus isn’t the mutated version. I’d love to get our hands on the research papers as well, but I suspect they’re copying them as we speak. Unless we can find them quickly. Now, while they’re still on the run. Any idea where that crew was headed?”
    “I lost sight of them the minute they ran out of the hotel. Randi Russell asked that we go to the train station. Oman Dattar escaped from prison, and apparently the thought is that he will attempt to flee by train. I’m accompanying one of her officers there. I told her and I’ll tell you that I think Dattar is involved in some way. It’s no coincidence that he managed to escape on the same night as a deadly attack.”
    “I agree, but my primary concern is the coolers.”
    “If we find Dattar, I’ll lay odds that we’ll find the bacteria. If not on his person, then I’ll beat the location out of him.”
    “While you’re searching, can you find a scanner and input those photos? E-mail them to me? I want to start some inquiries. Perhaps the woman is a scientist at the convention.”
    Beckmann pointed through the windshield at a man dressed in black who was staggering down the street. He passed under a streetlight and Smith could see a sheen of sweat on his face.
    “That’s one of them,” Beckmann said. He reached between them where his rifle was propped with its muzzle in the foot well and its stock on the edge of the seat. Smith reached under his jacket and pulled out his gun.
    “I’ve got to go. We’ve just spotted one of the attackers. We’ll grab him and shake some answers out of him.”
    “Call me the minute you have some,” Klein said and clicked off. Beckmann pulled the car even with the stumbling man.
    “He looks drunk,” he said.
    “Pull ahead and then stop. Keep the engine running. I’ll corral him.”
    Beckmann shook his head. “My orders were to protect you, not allow you to get yourself killed in a scuffle with a jihadist. I’ll go.” But Smith already had the door open. The overhead light turned on, illuminating the car’s interior. Smith slipped out quickly, closing the door.
    The cool night air felt bracing. He crossed between two parked cars onto the sidewalk and began to stroll toward the attacker, holding his gun down by his thigh and out of sight. They were twenty feet apart, and Smith was closing the distance fast, keeping his strides slow. The attacker continued his swaying, stumbling progress with his head down, watching the sidewalk, his entire concentration on each step. At ten feet apart Smith could see that the man was seriously ill. Smith closed the distance quickly, grabbing the man’s arm just as he crumpled, and lowered him to the ground. Beckmann jogged up and crouched down.
    “He’s been shot?” he said.
    Smith ran his hands over the man’s jacket, feeling the lump of a weapon in his right pocket. He reached in and removed a 9 mm gun. He handed it to Beckmann, who pocketed it. The man’s breath was rasping in and out and his eyelids fluttered. Each time they opened, Smith could see that his pupils were rolled back. Smith continued his search for a wound, finding none.
    “Help me lift him. I want to check his back.”
    Beckmann put his rifle on the ground and assisted in lifting the man from the pavement and turning him to the side. He held him while Smith ran his hands over his back.
    “Nothing. But we need to get him to a