Lethal Remedy by Richard Mabry Read Free Book Online Page A

the Sir Francis Drake. On previous trips, his hotel was a La Quinta in Berkeley. He should have known something was up when they gave him his travel itinerary and he saw first-class travel and a nice hotel. First the carrot, then the stick.

In addition to Wolfe's veiled threats, Ingersoll already had something to worry about, something he had to keep forcing from his consciousness. Even though Jandramycin—there, he remembered the word—Jandramycin was considered a true wonder drug, the Jandra researchers had only been able to postulate its mode of action. Not unusual, since sometimes the mechanism of action of a drug was clarified months, even years after its introduction, as data accumulated. Well, that suited him just fine. He knew exactly why it worked, and that knowledge was something he meant to keep to himself as long as possible. That and a few other things as well. Meanwhile, he would continue to build his reputation.

He reached for his headset, ready to dial in some music, when an announcement rang through the aircraft. It was distorted a bit by a less-than-perfect PA system, but the message was clear. "Ladies and gentlemen, is there a doctor on board?"

Ingersoll was always careful to balance the perks that might go with being recognized as a doctor with the responsibilities that accompanied that recognition. He reached into his shirt pocket and sneaked a glance at the name on his boarding pass: Jack Ingersoll. No MD after his name, no Dr. before it. He was safe.

Five minutes later, there was another announcement, and this time the flight attendant's voice had an edge. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is urgent. If you're a doctor, please make your way to the aft galley. Thank you."

The passengers in the first-class cabin stirred and looked around, each one apparently wondering if there was a doctor among them. No one moved. Ingersoll felt, almost heard, a collective sigh of relief go up. Not just that they were spared the responsibility of tending to someone who'd fallen ill, but that they'd escaped that fate themselves. They'd survived for one more hour, most likely for one more day, God willing for one more month or year. But life was fragile, and never seemed so much so as when someone else's life was threatened.

From his seat in the last row of first class, Ingersoll craned his neck and looked down the aisle. A stocky black man on the aisle ten or twelve rows back beckoned a flight attendant over and said, loud enough for Ingersoll to hear him, "I'm not a doctor, but I'm an EMT. Can I help?"

"Yes, please. We think one of the passengers is having a heart attack. I was about to get the AED and take it back."

Great. A heart attack, and apparently they'd be using the automated external defibrillator. Ingersoll could almost write the scenario that was about to play out.

Twenty minutes later, his fears were confirmed. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. I'm sorry, but we're diverting to the nearest major city, Las Vegas, for a medical emergency. Please remain in your seats for the balance of the flight. We'll give you more information as soon as it's available."

Ingersoll craned his neck to look at the rear of the aircraft in time to see the lead flight attendant replacing the AED in its case, and the EMT spreading a blanket over a form stretched out in the aisle. Good thing he hadn't volunteered his services. He probably couldn't have done more than the emergency medical technician, and undoubtedly the paperwork at Las Vegas would be a nightmare. He just hoped he wasn't going to be delayed too long. Then again, he supposed a night in Las Vegas wouldn't be all that bad.

 

 

Sara scanned the numbers on Chelsea's chart. Fever coming down. Blood pressure holding stable now. Twenty-four hours since adding the additional antibiotics to the girl's treatment regimen, and Sara could hardly believe how much improvement she saw. Had they made a good guess in choosing empiric therapy, or was EpAm848 making a