The Poseidon Initiative by Rick Chesler Page B

with a pair of swim fins sticking out was slung over his chair, and he buried his nose in the current issue of
Surfer Magazine
while he nursed a large brew. A pair of white iPod earbuds, actually connected to a two-way radio, completed the ensemble.
    Tanner and Danielle made sure not to even look at him as they made their way across the lobby in plain view from the Hofstad contact’s vantage point. Tanner knew to greet the man as Amir. He knew nothing more about him than that, other than what he said he’d be wearing and that he was affiliated in some way with the Hofstad terror organization. He doubted he was very high up, but he would try and find out.
    “Small table,” Danielle said just loud enough for Tanner to hear as they approached the edge of the bar. Tanner had noticed it, too. They’d be sitting very close to one another, well subject to personal scrutiny. The Hofstad man made eye contact, first with Tanner and then Danielle as they passed into the bar. Tanner walked up to the high table with four barstools crammed around it, including the one Amir occupied, and nodded at the terror agent. Amir stood and extended a hand.
    “Mr. Kohler?”
    Tanner pumped his hand enthusiastically. “Yes, and you must be Amir. Pleased to meet you. This is my associate, Ms. Halifax.” Danielle shook Amir’s hand and said a pleasant greeting.
    “Please sit,” Amir said, waving a hand at the cocktail table, where a glass of water sat in front of him. “I apologize for the cramped space, but as you can see,” he said, turning around to look at the slammed bar, “it’s a popular place.”
    “Not a problem. My briefcase here might take up my drinking real estate, but that’s okay. We’ll celebrate later, right?”
    Amir smiled as he watched Tanner lay the case on the table and unsnap its hinges. “I like a man who gets right to the point!”
    Tanner shot Amir a serious look over the lid of the open case. “No reason to waste time when we’ve got an antidote that can save people’s lives, right?”
    Amir nodded. “Of course not. We are very excited about your proposition. May I see the samples?”
    “Certainly.” Tanner swung the case toward him so that he could view the secured racks of test tubes it contained. Within the tubes, a turquoise liquid suggested a antidote.
    “Each tube contains how many human doses?” Amir peered intently into the case.
    Danielle answered. “Ten.”
    “And there are one hundred tubes?”
    “That’s right. One thousand doses total.”
    “And what is the shelf life of the antidote?” Amir looked at them both expectantly.
    “As long as it’s kept out of temperature extremes and away from direct sunlight, they should remain viable indefinitely.”
    Amir looked pleased. “And this is a one-time use antidote, not a vaccine. In other words, it does not prevent you from being affected by STX again, correct?”
    Danielle nodded. “That’s right. It’s an antidote, not a vaccine.”
    “We’re working on a vaccine as well,” Tanner said, playing the part of zealous biotech exec. “But this antidote is a very exciting milestone step.”
    “Most definitely.” Amir tore his gaze from the blue vials to look Tanner in the eye. “You have the requested technical data on this antidote?”
    Danielle handed him a folder emblazoned with the Helix Biotech logo. “Full specifications for your perusal.”
    He took the folder, opened it briefly, then looked up again. “And may I have a small testing sample with which to verify the efficacy of the antidote? Just a simple test. Only a few hours will be required. You will be staying here in the hotel tonight?”
    Tanner nodded. He removed a smaller tube, half the size of the others, from the case, and handed it to Amir. “You may use this for testing purposes. I’m sure you will be quite pleased. Are you staying in the hotel as well?”
    The question had some risk, as he didn’t want to be seen as pressing for information on Hofstad’s