Chapter 11

The prefect’s office in Saint-Denis was besieged by reporters, photographers, and other members of the press. Between the mass stranding, the riot on the beach, and the high-speed chase along the NR-1, the island of Reunion had seen more excitement in twenty-four hours than it usually enjoyed over the course of a year.

The reporters wanted quotes, the photographers wanted video of the heroes or villains, it didn’t matter which, and the regular citizens wanted answers.

In a crowded third-floor conference room, Lacourt and a half dozen members of his staff tried to get everyone on the same page, including Kurt, Joe, Paul, and Gamay.

Kurt, Joe, and Paul sat pensively as the company line was laid out. Only Gamay seemed interested in arguing. Then again, it was her work that had been blown up with an incendiary grenade.

“The official position is as follows,” they were told. “We detected no bacteria or viral infection in any of the dead animals.”

“Technically that’s true,” Gamay said sarcastically, “but only because we never got a chance to test any of the samples.”

“Do not mention that to the press,” Lacourt said. “Or to anyone else.”

Gamay fumed, but Kurt nodded for all of them. “Please continue.”

“The carcasses were marked for burning before the citizens took things into their own hands, and would have been destroyed anyway. The fires were sufficiently hot to kill any pathogens that were not discovered. And while the riot is a regrettable incident and those involved will be prosecuted, we know now that it was instigated by outside sources. Specifically, the foreign terrorist who attacked the lab and was then chased along the highway.”

Kurt had no problem signing off on that part, either.

Joe agreed. “Calm the public; good start.”

Gamay continued to take issue. “On what basis do you come to any of those conclusions? Fact is there were signs of infection in the dead animals. The fires may or may not have destroyed all the evidence. We should be taking more samples. As for the terrorist claim, I suppose a man throwing explosives labels himself, but what makes it okay to suggest he was a foreigner?”

“He spoke English when he jumped off the viaduct,” one of the prefect’s assistants said emphatically. “That makes him a foreigner. Like the rest of you.”

Lacourt held up a hand. He didn’t want to start a grudge match. He still appreciated the efforts the Americans had made. Both in saving the animals and trying to keep the terrorist from escaping.

“No need to fight between ourselves,” he began, “but we must bend to reality. There are rumors and faked videos going around suggesting you and the other biologists were seen injecting the dead animals with some type of serum. We are debunking them, proving that the videos were run in reverse and that the other images were faked, but it takes a while to get through to people. The fact that you’re Americans plays against you on this. Your presence is suspicious, especially on a French island.”

Kurt had to laugh.

Gamay’s eyes grew wide with indignation. “What about the investigation?”

“It will continue without you,” Lacourt insisted. “Though we don’t believe it will amount to anything. Whales have been beaching themselves for millions of years, since long before humans were here. This is just a dark quirk of nature. Your assistance in mitigating it has been appreciated, but it’s over now and your help is no longer required.”

Gamay’s jaw clenched. Paul matched her with an irritated frown.

Joe just shook his head. “How’s that for a hearty thank-you?”

Kurt felt differently. In fact, the way he saw it, the sooner they got away from the prefect’s office, the politicians, and the press, the easier their job would be. “Sounds good to me. Give us a boat, and we’ll be off the island by morning.”

“A boat?” Lacourt said suspiciously.

Kurt nodded. “The answers we’re looking for aren’t here on your island. They’re out there…in the sea.”