Arctic Drift (Dirk Pitt 20)

“I’d bet against it,” Pitt said. “I think Lane’s research was specifically targeted.”

“You’re probably right. There was an additional finding that would support that theory. Our bomb analysts determined that the explosives were packed in a cardboard container. Unlike a pipe bomb, where the shrapnel from the pipe is intended to maim or kill, our bomber used a relatively benign approach. It does appear as if the explosion wasn’t meant to kill, or certainly kill in numbers.”

“A saving grace,” Pitt replied, “but I take it your work is just beginning.”

“Yes, the test results will blow the investigation wide open. We will be talking to everyone in the building. That will be our next hope, that someone saw something or somebody out of place that will give us our next lead.” Martin knew that random explosions were one of the worst crimes to investigate and often the most difficult to solve.

“Thanks for the update, Dan, and good luck. If anything comes to me, I’ll let you know.”

Pitt hung up and walked down the hall to a briefing on NUMA’s hurricane-warning buoys in the Gulf of Mexico. He then cleared his afternoon calendar and made his way out of the headquarters building. The explo

sion at the GWU lab gnawed at his consciousness, and, try as he might, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there were serious consequences at play.

He drove to the Georgetown University Hospital, hoping that Lisa had not yet been released. She was still in her room on the second floor, along with a squat man in a three-piece suit. The man rose from a corner chair and glared at Pitt as he entered.

“It’s all right, Agent Bishop,” Lisa said from her bed. “This is Dirk Pitt, a friend of mine.”

The FBI agent nodded without emotion, then left the room to stand in the hallway.

“Do you believe that?” Lisa said, greeting Pitt. “The FBI has been questioning me all day, and now they won’t leave me alone.”

“They must have a soft spot for pretty research biochemists,” Pitt replied with a warm grin. He was secretly thankful for the guard, knowing that Martin was taking the matter seriously.

Lane blushed at the comment. “Loren phoned a short time ago but didn’t mention that you would be coming by.”

“I became a little concerned after hearing of the FBI’s investigation,” he said.

He noted that Lisa looked vastly improved since his last visit. Her color had returned, her eyes were clear, and her voice was strong. But a leg cast and a shoulder sling indicated that she was still far removed from participating in a game of Twister.

“What’s going on? They haven’t told me anything,” she said, giving him a pleading look.

“They think it may have been a planted bomb that blew up.”

“I figured that’s what they were driving at,” she said in a whisper. “I just can’t believe that would be true.”

“They apparently found residue of an explosive material in your lab. I know that it is hard to figure. Do you have any enemies, personal or professional, that might have a grudge?”

“I went all through that with the FBI agents this morning,” she said, shaking her head. “There’s not a soul I know who could even conceive of doing such an act. And I know the same goes for Bob.”

“It’s possible the explosives were placed in your lab at random, perhaps by some crazy who had a beef with the university.”

“That is the only rationale I can think of. Though Bob and I always lock the lab when nobody is there.”

“There is another possibility,” Pitt offered. “Do you think a competitor might be threatened by the results of your research? ”

Lisa contemplated the question for a moment. “I suppose it is possible. I have published papers related to my general research, and there are far-reaching effects. But the fact is, only you, Loren, and Bob were aware of my catalyst breakthrough. Nobody else even knew. It seems hard to believe someone could react so quickly, if they were indeed aware of the discovery.”

Pitt remained silent as Lisa looked out the window for a moment.

“It seems to me that a working means of artificial photosynthesis would have only a positive benefit. I mean, who could possibly be hurt by a reduction in greenhouse gases?”

“Answer that and we have a potential suspect,” Pitt said. He eyed a wheelchair parked along the opposite side of the bed. “When are they going to cut you loose from here?”

“The doctor said tomorrow afternoon, most likely. Not soon enough for me. I’d like to get back to work and write up my findings.”

“You can resurrect the test results?” Pitt asked.

“Conceptually, it’s all still up here,” she said, tapping a finger to her head. “I’ll have to borrow a bit of lab equipment to re-document things, however. That’s providing the Ontario Miners Co-op can come up with another sample of ruthenium.”