Banner.
“Okay, I’m over it. She’s made her choice, and for better or worse she’ll need backup.”
The phone started ringing. Alicia reached over to answer.
“Leave it,” Banner said. “This is more important.” After two short rings, the phone went silent. Seconds later his pocket started vibrating again. He ignored it. Stromeyer raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Alicia pursed her lips. “What if it’s someone important? Like the president of the United States?”
Banner laughed. “The president would never call here. At best he’d have one of his assistants contact us.”
Alicia put her hands on her hips. “Even so. I’m taking Marketing 101, and the professor said that a company should endeavor to always have a living person answer its phones during business hours. Not to sends the wrong message.”
“Alicia.” Stromeyer’s voice held a note of warning.
Banner retrieved his phone and looked at the readout. “I’ll pick up this one.”
“Yes.” Alicia pumped a fist, waved at him, and swung out the glass doors, headed to her console.
“Just filing, no phone calls!” Stromeyer called after her.
Banner made an irritated sound and punched the green button. “Banner,” he barked into the phone.
“Is this the Mr. Banner who knows Emma Caldridge?” The female voice on the other end of the line was soft and spoke with a slight Asian accent.
“This is he.”
“I work for Price Pharmaceuticals. Ms. Caldridge asked me to analyze some vials of blood and to give you the results. May I proceed?”
“Certainly,” Banner said.
“The blood was negative for ricin, botulism, and anthrax. Also for HIV. As for her dopamine question, please tell her that people like her who engage in extreme sports will often exist in a state of continuously elevated dopamine levels.”
Banner wasn’t sure how to respond to this information. “Is that bad?”
The caller chuckled. “No. But it does reduce their sensitivity to certain stimuli. The body learns to accommodate the levels by forming a tolerance, much like that formed by individuals addicted to substances. For example, a Formula One race-car driver may feel intense excitement during his first race, when his body dumps dopamine into his system, but over time he will lose the jittery feeling and adjust to the new levels. Likewise Ms. Caldridge, as an extreme runner, has probably grown used to the excess chemicals created when she runs. She is undoubtedly capable of functioning normally under higher blood-saturation levels than less acclimated people.”
“And what would happen to those less acclimated?”
“I’m sorry to say that these people would likely behave in a highly erratic and possibly dangerous fashion. Moreover, excessive amounts—say, in successive doses—could stress the heart to levels that can kill.”
Banner thanked the woman and hung up, not quite sure what to do with the information just given to him.
“That call was for Caldridge,” he said. He consulted his watch. “She should be landing in Nairobi soon. I told her to wait at the airport before heading to Berbera.”
“Good idea. We have a contact there. Ahmed. Remember him? I’ll let him know to look for her, and I’ll send Roducci to meet her in Nairobi.”
Giovanni Roducci was a disreputable Italian who ran around Europe pretending to be an entrepreneur distantly related to the Borgias. Roducci could produce fake documents, real weapons, and any number of vehicles on a moment’s notice. He fawned over Stromeyer. Whenever she called, they engaged in a spirited negotiation that usually ended with Roducci pretending bankruptcy and Stromeyer claiming she was robbed. Banner steered clear of these conversations. Roducci wore him out with his breezy gamesmanship.
“Roducci can get her whatever she might need to analyze the vials. He’s a notorious gossip, so I’ll keep him out of it until I can determine what she may require.” Stromeyer headed toward the
“Okay, I’m over it. She’s made her choice, and for better or worse she’ll need backup.”
The phone started ringing. Alicia reached over to answer.
“Leave it,” Banner said. “This is more important.” After two short rings, the phone went silent. Seconds later his pocket started vibrating again. He ignored it. Stromeyer raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Alicia pursed her lips. “What if it’s someone important? Like the president of the United States?”
Banner laughed. “The president would never call here. At best he’d have one of his assistants contact us.”
Alicia put her hands on her hips. “Even so. I’m taking Marketing 101, and the professor said that a company should endeavor to always have a living person answer its phones during business hours. Not to sends the wrong message.”
“Alicia.” Stromeyer’s voice held a note of warning.
Banner retrieved his phone and looked at the readout. “I’ll pick up this one.”
“Yes.” Alicia pumped a fist, waved at him, and swung out the glass doors, headed to her console.
“Just filing, no phone calls!” Stromeyer called after her.
Banner made an irritated sound and punched the green button. “Banner,” he barked into the phone.
“Is this the Mr. Banner who knows Emma Caldridge?” The female voice on the other end of the line was soft and spoke with a slight Asian accent.
“This is he.”
“I work for Price Pharmaceuticals. Ms. Caldridge asked me to analyze some vials of blood and to give you the results. May I proceed?”
“Certainly,” Banner said.
“The blood was negative for ricin, botulism, and anthrax. Also for HIV. As for her dopamine question, please tell her that people like her who engage in extreme sports will often exist in a state of continuously elevated dopamine levels.”
Banner wasn’t sure how to respond to this information. “Is that bad?”
The caller chuckled. “No. But it does reduce their sensitivity to certain stimuli. The body learns to accommodate the levels by forming a tolerance, much like that formed by individuals addicted to substances. For example, a Formula One race-car driver may feel intense excitement during his first race, when his body dumps dopamine into his system, but over time he will lose the jittery feeling and adjust to the new levels. Likewise Ms. Caldridge, as an extreme runner, has probably grown used to the excess chemicals created when she runs. She is undoubtedly capable of functioning normally under higher blood-saturation levels than less acclimated people.”
“And what would happen to those less acclimated?”
“I’m sorry to say that these people would likely behave in a highly erratic and possibly dangerous fashion. Moreover, excessive amounts—say, in successive doses—could stress the heart to levels that can kill.”
Banner thanked the woman and hung up, not quite sure what to do with the information just given to him.
“That call was for Caldridge,” he said. He consulted his watch. “She should be landing in Nairobi soon. I told her to wait at the airport before heading to Berbera.”
“Good idea. We have a contact there. Ahmed. Remember him? I’ll let him know to look for her, and I’ll send Roducci to meet her in Nairobi.”
Giovanni Roducci was a disreputable Italian who ran around Europe pretending to be an entrepreneur distantly related to the Borgias. Roducci could produce fake documents, real weapons, and any number of vehicles on a moment’s notice. He fawned over Stromeyer. Whenever she called, they engaged in a spirited negotiation that usually ended with Roducci pretending bankruptcy and Stromeyer claiming she was robbed. Banner steered clear of these conversations. Roducci wore him out with his breezy gamesmanship.
“Roducci can get her whatever she might need to analyze the vials. He’s a notorious gossip, so I’ll keep him out of it until I can determine what she may require.” Stromeyer headed toward the
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