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As the facts tumbled around the fertile soil of Harvath’s brain looking for places in which they could take root, he asked, “If this is about snake venom, why can’t we use some sort of antivenin?”

“Because,” said Alan Whitcomb, “we don’t exactly know for sure what we’re dealing with here. Improper use of antivenin can not only delay a patient’s recovery, but more often than not, it can actually speed up the mortality process. Unfortunately, because of the rarity of this snake, there are no test kits or special instruments available for the conclusive identification of the presence of Azemiops feae venom. There is also no known antivenin.”

Harvath was frustrated. What good was discussing what kind of venom they might be dealing with if there was no sure way to detect it and no sure way to treat it? “I don’t understand, “He replied as he looked at Alan. “Jillian said that she had come to both of you for help because she believes the illness is derived from something in antiquity. If you’re not a paleopathologist, how do you fit into all of this?”

“Well, as Jillian said, my field is molecular biology-which encompasses both biophysics and biochemistry. In short, I study the building blocks of life, specifically something called aDNA. In case you’re wondering, the a stands for ancient. Many people in my field like to refer to it as molecular archeology. You see, for a very long time the scientific powers that be didn’t see a need for our expertise in helping examine human remains. The commonly held belief was that degradation of DNA occurred within hours or days after an individual’s death.

“The tide turned in our favor, though, in the early eighties when a group of scientists reported finding a significant amount of viable genetic information in a four-thousand-year-old Egyptian mummy. A few years later the PCR, or polymerase chain reaction, technique was invented and voilà, molecular archeology was born. Ever since, it has been possible to extrapolate a lot of data from minimal traces of DNA.”

“How minimal?”

“Theoretically, one needs only a single molecule for a positive result.”

“Like Jurassic Park?” asked Harvath, slightly embarrassed that his contribution to the conversation was nothing more than a pop culture reference. Not that anybody could fault him for reaching. The concepts they were discussing were very difficult to comprehend.

“ Jurassic Park was a good story, but it seriously stretched the bounds of credibility. As far as we can tell, DNA probably can’t last much more than ten thousand years and definitely not beyond one hundred thousand years, so the concept of finding viable DNA in a mosquito from over sixty-five million years ago gets a bit of a laugh from those of us in the scientific community.”

“So Jurassic Park-style cloning couldn’t be done then.”

“We don’t know that for sure. If we could isolate DNA that’s on the order of ten to fifteen thousand years old, science might, and I stress might, be able to bring back Pleistocene era species, but it wouldn’t be easy. A perfect example of the best-preserved Pleistocene species we’ve found to date would be woolly mammoths. In their case, though, we’ve only recovered short strands of mitochondrial DNA, not the nuclear DNA necessary for cloning. It’s a very tricky business, all this cloning stuff, and one I’m glad I’m not involved in.”

Vanessa could tell Harvath hadn’t fully grasped what Mr. Whitcomb’s specialty was, and so she tried to elucidate. “For lack of a better term, what Alan does is listen carefully to very old DNA. It talks to him.”

“Kind of like The Horse Whisperer,” joked Jillian.

Vanessa nodded her head and smiled. “Ancient DNA can tell us lots of things about how people lived, such as what their diets were comprised of and what their lives were like, but more importantly ancient DNA can often tell us more about how people died. This is Alan’s primary area of expertise-the makeup, if you will, of ancient disease on a molecular level. By studying how the organic structure of diseases has changed over time, we can hopefully develop a better understanding of how to combat and maybe even overcome the diseases we face today.”

“For instance,” said Alan, “we’re now learning that the smallpox pandemics of the Middle Ages, not the plague, mind you, but smallpox, left generations of people with a rare genetic defect that protects them against infection by HIV, the virus that causes AIDS. We estimate that approximately one percent of people descended from northern Europeans are virtually immune to HIV infection. And of that one percent, Swedes are the most likely to be protected. The Middle Ages may not exactly be ancient history, but this is the type of science that falls within my bailiwick.”

“You see,” added Jillian, “if we were able to locate the original illness, or organic matter from someone who was exposed to the original strain of this mystery illness and had survived, Alan might be able to tell us a lot about the disease itself.”

“Could we cure it?”

“That’s a pretty difficult question, but if we had either the original form of the disease itself or organic material from someone who had been exposed to it and survived, we’d have a fighting chance,” said Alan.

For all intents and purposes, the Whitcombs were investigators, and while Harvath couldn’t begin to fathom how they did what they did, he could relate to how they went about their search for answers. “So, let’s assume for a moment that what killed the people in Asalaam is based on this purple viper venom. Where are the other symptoms coming from? I mean, when you see the people in the advanced stages of this illness, they look like attendees at a Count Dracula convention. “Yet another pop culture reference, but it was the most apt description Harvath could think of.

“You raise an excellent point and one that has been bothering us since Jillian first presented this case to us,” responded Mrs. Whitcomb. “We can only assume that this is either a derivation of Azemiops feae venom that we are not yet familiar with, or that it is being used in conjunction with something else. I have searched the Arthashastra from cover to cover, but can’t find anything that would cause the full range of symptoms that we’re seeing.”

“What also doesn’t make sense is why the illness only seems to affect non-Muslims. How could this thing have been specifically bio-engineered to attack specific religions?” asked Harvath.

“I don’t think that’s what we’re looking at,” said Alan. “In my opinion, it must be something else, like contamination of food or water supplies-which has been a popular method of subduing an enemy since the dawn of time.”

“As for the symptoms beyond the known effects of Azemiops feae venom,” added Jillian, “what we may be seeing here is something the scientific community occasionally refers to as duplexing.”

“What is duplexing?” replied Harvath.

“Duplexing is the combining of two illnesses to make them more lethal than they would be on their own. Australian researchers recently proved this theory quite inadvertently when they incorporated an immunoregulator gene into the mousepox virus. The result was a seriously enhanced, monster mousepox virus that was more virulent than anything they had ever seen before.

“The concern, especially among bioterrorism experts, is that this technique could be applied to other naturally occurring pathogens like smallpox or anthrax, which would dramatically increase their lethality.”

“Let’s just suppose for a second that what we’re seeing here is a case of duplexing and that the snake venom is being added to something else in order to create a more potent bioweapon. I still don’t understand how only non-Muslims were infected while none of the other indigenous people in that village seem to have been,” said Harvath.

“The duplexing itself can be a one-two punch,” replied Alan. “It could be that only people infected with substance A get sickened when exposed to substance B, and the resultant AB combination ends up being more lethal than A or B on their own.”

“Or, as we discussed,” said Jillian, “there could be some sort of immunization we’re not aware of.”

“What about the Arthashastra?” asked Harvath. “Does it talk about how the viper poison might be distributed?”

Vanessa nodded her head. “There are many suggested means of delivery-swabbing arrowheads, coating the edges of swords and spears-but one of the most interesting items I came across was a means by which it could be transformed into a rocklike substance, much like crack cocaine, and then ground into a fine powder. The toxic powder could then be left in fields for troops to walk through and pick up on their clothes, infection occurring through both skin contact and inhalation. The ancients were also very adept at employing toxic smoke to carry their chemical or biological agents across the battlefield. The key lay in the winds not turning and blowing the substance back on you.

“Modern-day troops certainly don’t do much hand-to-hand with enemies using edged weapons; I’m prone to lean toward the powder or smoke angle. But I could be wrong. We need more time to study this.

“Speaking of which,” Vanessa continued as she looked at her watch, “it’s getting late. I have a lot of e-mails yet to return, and I want to get an early start tomorrow. Why don’t we call it a night? Both of the spare rooms are made up, so you two can stay here. We’ll meet at my office in the morning, say, eight o’clock?”

“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.

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.

“Who did the photo come from?”

“It was taken by the wife of one of the paleopathologists on my server list. Her name is Molly Davidson. She works with Sotheby’s arms, armour, and militaria division in London.”

“Sotheby’s? As in the auction house?” asked Harvath.

“One and the same,” replied Vanessa. “A new client wanted the value of this piece appraised for auction. Apparently, Molly has had a devil of a time placing it in any sort of historical context, and when her husband received my e-mail regarding Azemiops feae, he had Molly e-mail me the photo. They thought there might be a connection and maybe we could help each other out.”

Harvath studied the image more closely. There was definitely a connection here. “Does she have any idea where the piece came from?”

“Originally? She thinks it might be from Carthage, probably around the third century B.C.”

“But the Carthaginians were from North Africa in the area that’s now Tunisia. How would they have known about Azemiops feae? You said it was indigenous only to China, Tibet, Myanmar, and Vietnam.”

“I did say that and it’s true,” replied Vanessa. “Azemiops feae is not a reptile that ever would have been seen anywhere near Carthage.”

“So what’s the connection?”

“Let me answer your first question. Carthage was originally a colony founded by the Phoenicians, who were great seafarers. Tyre and Sidon, Carthage ’s two most renowned ports, are even mentioned in the Bible. In fact, the word Bible comes from the word Byblos, another Carthaginian port from which the majority of Egyptian papyrus was exported. Most early books were made from papyrus, and the word Byblos or Biblos became the ancient Greek word for ‘book.’

“Just like their ancestors, the Carthaginians were incredibly adept merchants, skilled at buying and selling just about anything. Even more important, they were also extremely accomplished mariners and traded throughout the Mediterranean. Most scholars don’t believe they traded any farther east than Greece, but it’s possible. There are stories of Carthage foraying into Asia Minor and beyond via the monsoon trade route. If this is true, it’s conceivable that they could have come across the Arthashastra, as well as Azemiops feae and the knowledge of how to extract its venom. This, of course, is all dependent upon whether or not they did in fact establish some sort of trade relations with ancient India.”

“Even if they did. What does that have to do with this breastplate?”

“What do you know about the Carthaginian general Hannibal?”

An adept student of history, Harvath replied, “He was one of the most brilliant military strategists of the ancient world.”

“Correct,” said Vanessa, “and Hannibal was probably best known for his daring sneak attack on the burgeoning Roman Empire.”

Harvath knew the story well. Hannibal had set out from Spain with approximately forty war elephants and, according to some reports, up-wards of more than a hundred thousand soldiers to launch his attack. All that stood between him and his enemy were the towering peaks of the French-Italian Alps. But, by the time he made it over the top and descended into Italy ’s Po Valley, near present-day Turin, Hannibal had lost many of the elephants and more than half his men. While ambushes and skirmishes with marauding Gaulish tribes in present-day France and Spain accounted for a good amount of his losses, many more soldiers were lost to precipitous mountain paths, as well as numerous Alpine landslides and avalanches.

“Not so well known,” continued Vanessa, “is a rumor that at the forefront of his forces, Hannibal posted members of his most elite guard. They were said to be transporting a weapon of unimaginable destruction-a weapon which would all but assure their victory over the Romans.”

Despite his knowledge of the Carthaginian general, this was something Harvath had never heard before. “Let me guess, you think this weapon was biological or chemical in nature?”

“Since we’re talking about Hannibal,” interjected Jillian, “most definitely biological.”

“Why?”

“ Hannibal was one of history’s earliest and biggest proponents of biological warfare.”

Harvath was stunned. “He was? What kind of weapons are we talking about?”

“The best example I can think of, especially because it demonstrates his penchant for venomous snakes, happened sometime around 190 B.C. Severely outnumbered by the Pergamum navy, Hannibal sent men ashore to gather as many poisonous snakes as they could. They sealed them in clay jars, and when the Pergamum ships were within range, Hannibal ’s men catapulted the jars onto the enemy’s decks. The jars shattered and sent the snakes in every direction, forcing the Pergamum sailors to abandon ship and giving Hannibal a decisive victory over a much larger foe.

“If Carthage had developed contact with India, and from what we know of Hannibal ’s aggressive pursuit of biological weapons, this all might fit together quite logically,” said Vanessa.

“Well, I see a very obvious connection here,” replied Jillian. “Whoever wore this breastplate had to be wielding a weapon of some sort that used Azemiops feae venom.”

“I agree with you about there being a connection,” said Harvath, “but how can you tell that whoever was wearing the breastplate was using a weapon that incorporated our venom?”

Vanessa could see what Jillian was driving at. “Both the depiction of the wolf and the Azemiops feae vipers on the breastplate were meant as scare tactics. The ancients believed very strongly in the power of psychological warfare. Some were even known to carry banners into battle advertising the types of poison they would be using against their enemies.”

“So you think the breastplates were an advertisement?”

“Most definitely,” replied Vanessa, “and let me tell you why. Are you familiar with the Scythians and their archers?”

“Jillian mentioned them.”

Vanessa drew a quick picture on her pad and turned it around so Harvath could see it. “The shafts of the Scythians’ arrows were painstakingly painted to look like the snake from which the venom was taken. Even if one of these arrows simply landed next to you, the psychological effect would be enormous. It’s hard to believe, from a modern perspective, but these techniques absolutely terrorized opposing armies.

“Tactics like these were in widespread use hundreds of years before Hannibal. It’s reasonable to assume he would have employed them as well. He was an extremely cunning warrior. We have to imagine he would have used every advantage to overwhelm his enemies.”

“I agree,” replied Harvath. “Everything you’re suggesting is completely in keeping with Hannibal ’s character. But where I’m getting lost is with this weapon of unimaginable destruction. I’ve read a lot about Carthage, but I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“Not many people have. That’s probably because everything we know about Hannibal comes from his enemies, the Romans. Once the Romans conquered Carthage, they carried out something they called the Carthage solution. They absolutely decimated the country, sold most of its people into slavery, burned all of Carthage’s libraries, and then, as a final assurance that the Carthaginians would never return to threaten Rome again, sowed every inch of soil with salt.

“When it comes to accounts of Hannibal and Carthage, Polybius was regarded as the most reliable of Roman historians, followed by Livy, who was born one hundred fifty years after Hannibal ’s march across the Alps. But what a lot of people don’t know is that there were actually two Greeks, war correspondents if you will, who were embedded with Hannibal during his march on Rome. One was named Sosilos, who wrote Hannibal ’s biography, and another was named Silenus. Sosilos stuck to Hannibal like glue, studying the general’s every move, while Silenus, who was proficient in several languages, spent a lot of time among Hannibal ’s various troops.”