“Eight o’clock sounds great,” said Jillian, answering for both of them. “We’ll be there.”

When Harvath went to bed, he began to question what the hell he was doing. With all the scientific jargon still spinning in his head, he realized he was way out of his league and seriously doubted whether he was going to be able to pull this assignment off. An unfamiliar feeling gnawed at the edge of his thoughts, an insecurity that questioned what his life would be like if he was forced to resign and live out his days as an international pariah-the overaggressive American agent who beat the defenseless Iraqi in the al-Karim bazaar.

Harvath found it difficult to breathe and wondered if this was what a panic attack was like. Regardless of what it was, he didn’t like it. It made him feel weak.

He forced his mind to turn to something else-something he could focus his energies on. As he did so, the face of Timothy Rayburn floated to the surface of his consciousness, and he struggled to understand what his involvement in all of this might be. Soon, Khalid Alomari’s face took Rayburn’s place, and as Harvath began to slip into the fathomless darkness of an exhausted sleep, he visualized killing both of them-as slowly and painfully as possible.

TWENTY-SIX

UNIVERSITY OF DURHAM

NEXT DAY

Vanessa Whitcomb’s tiny third-floor office was much like the woman herself-compact, neat, and perfectly organized. A large mullioned window behind the desk, which normally would have fed bright sunlight into the room, instead framed thick black clouds outside which were threatening another downpour. Bookshelves took up every inch of wall space. A short Formica table, usually reserved for holding even more books, had been cleared off and set in the center of the office with two chairs taken from a nearby classroom. On top of the table were two neatly stacked piles of documents, each with a Post-it note designating which batch was for Harvath and which was for Jillian. In addition, Vanessa had laid out legal pads, ballpoint pens, and two green highlighters.

The trio wasted little time chatting. Vanessa was busy on her computer as Harvath jumped into the first article in his stack. It was a passage from the Arthashastra, which talked about specific ways to injure an enemy. In particular, it focused on a host of recipes for powders and ointments made from things like animals, minerals, plants, and insects that could cause blindness, insanity, disease, and immediate or lingering death. It described a magical smoke that could kill all life forms as far as the wind would carry it, but what was most interesting to Harvath was the concept that the deadly poisons could be used in such as way as to contaminate “merchandise” like spices or clothing and then be surreptitiously sent to the enemy. He knew that the British had done the same thing when they gave blankets and handkerchiefs infected with smallpox to American Indians and made a note on his legal pad.

There was an examination of Sophocles’ play Philoctetes, in which Hercules died in a Hydra-poisoned cloak, suffering many of the same symptoms as those associated with smallpox. Not only were the Greeks evidently aware that clothing and personal items could spread disease, but so were civilizations as far back as ancient Sumer in 1770 B.C.

Harvath then became acquainted with the word fomites, a term used by modern epidemiologists to describe items such as garments, bedclothes, cups, and toothbrushes, which were known to possess the capability to harbor infectious pathogens. Regulations prohibiting citizens from coming into contact with known fomites went back almost four thousand years. Harvath was beginning to wonder if some sort of fomite was responsible for infecting the non-Muslim population of Asalaam.

The articles Vanessa had printed out for him went on to describe other ingenious attempts at infecting an enemy, such as forcing him to camp or march through disease-infested swamps, as well as the use of “poison maidens”-seductresses with highly communicable infections, who were sent to do away with military leaders like Alexander the Great.

Just as Alan had mentioned, there were also discussions about the poisoning of an enemy’s food and water supplies. Short of discovering how the victims had been infected, and by what, Harvath knew the only way to get to the bottom of the illness was for him and Jillian to discover who had kidnapped Emir Tokay. At this point, Tokay seemed to be the only one who could unravel the mystery.

Harvath read through more articles, one of which detailed how, just as today, surgeons and scientists in the ancient world rushed to keep up with advancements in biowarfare. They were constantly trying to discover and develop new antidotes, treatments, and inoculations against the wide range of poisons and toxins that were being used against their soldiers and fellow citizens.

The Roman writer, encyclopedist, and foremost authority on science in ancient Europe, Pliny the Elder, claimed that resin from giant fennel and a type of laurel known as purple spurge were effective at curing wounds caused by envenomed arrows. In fact, Pliny went so far as to claim that there was an antidote for every kind of snake venom except the asp-a highly venomous snake of the cobra family. Harvath wondered what category the modern world might eventually be forced to put Azemiops feae in.

The article went on to list the efforts of citizens of the ancient world to develop resistance to snake venoms. It was widely understood that people who lived in lands home to venomous creatures such as snakes and scorpions often possessed some degree of immunity against their poisons. Bites or stings from these creatures were often nothing more than mildly uncomfortable for their victims. In some cases, local inhabitants’resistance was thought to be so significant that their breath or saliva could cure venomous bites in anyone. According to Pliny, the Psylli tribesmen of North Africa were so resistant to snake bites and scorpion stings that their saliva was considered a highly effective antivenin, and they were drafted for every campaign the Romans ever conducted on the African continent.

Harvath was familiar with how antivenin was derived from antibodies to live snake venom, but he was amazed at how far people had gone over the centuries, often unsuccessfully, to immunize themselves against all sorts of toxins. Throughout the ancient world, people believed in ingesting small amounts of poison along with the appropriate antidotes to help develop full-scale immunity against whatever it was they wanted to avoid contracting.

Harvath wasn’t surprised by the practice. Even today, many Southeast Asian nations still made their soldiers drink snake blood as part of their jungle training in the belief that they could become immune to snake venom.

The one thing the ancients did that seemed to make the most sense, and which was still relevant in today’s world, was questioning captives about what kind of bioweapons their militaries were using and how to defend against them. That was the kind of scientific method Harvath could relate to-pure interrogation.

“I think you two should have a look at this,” said Vanessa, interrupting Harvath’s thoughts.

“What is it?” asked Jillian as she came around the desk.

Vanessa leaned back so they could see her computer screen. “It’s a reply from someone on my paleopathology listserve. I put a question to the group asking if they’d noticed anyone taking any interest recently in our little purple viper and its connection to ancient biowarfare.”

“And?”

“Someone sent me this,” said Vanessa as she scrolled down to show the photo that had been included with the e-mail.

Harvath watched as an ancient piece of armor, a breastplate to be exact, came into view. The leather straps were surprisingly well preserved, as were the only somewhat rusted clasps, but that wasn’t the piece’s most remarkable feature. Right in the center of the breastplate was one of the most interesting crests he had ever seen. Carved in relief was the head of a snarling wolf with two snakes wrapped around its neck-and not just any kind of snakes. Their bodies were made up of brilliant purple stones, while their heads were fashioned from oblong pieces of what looked like creamy white marble.