To Touch Poison Read Online Free Page B

working on a British project named after an ancient battle site?”
    Fion turned, motioned toward a motorized canoe moored at the edge of the murky, tan Rio Negro. “It’s actually an Irish project, which is why me. I’m half and half. Brit father and Celtic mum.”
    The military plane took off, drowning any chance of an audible response on Kaimi’s part. She climbed into the boat, noting the approximate location. Three hours, give or take, from the settlement where she’d done the on-site work for her dissertation, and at least a full day of travel from the area where the roots, bark, and other vegetation she’d need could be found. Which led to a few questions. “Where are we headed? And what, exactly, is my job here?”
    There was no better time for an intimate conversation with her new boss than during a ride upriver. Captive audiences had their advantages, or so Kaimi hoped. But she was twitchy. It always happened when situations that affected her went out of control. Not that she was a control freak, but… yeah, she was. And how was Fion’s mixed nationality tied in with tried-and-true American Fred? This entire situation reeked of week-old fish.
    Fion dipped her oar in the water, pushing a small log out of the way. “We’re headed to our lab. The English, Irish, and American governments created it in a joint effort to control catastrophic biological and chemical warfare.” She grinned, but without a trace of humor.
    A ball of the-shit-has-hit-the-fan energy erupted in Kaimi’s gut. “That’s—”
    “Impossible? Bloody well is, but there you have it. And now we have to work with it.”
    Kaimi’s head wouldn’t wrap around it. “I’m American. Military.” More or less, but there was no point in further confusing an already terminal SNAFU.
    Fion maneuvered the canoe around a pink dolphin. “Arrogant Yanks. You get into everything, but in this case, you’re welcome. I need your expertise with the indigenous people and with the flora. My background is chemistry, and I’m well-versed in political economics. Critical to our work, yes, but your double doctorates in both forensic anthropology and forensic botany,” she snarled the words doctorate and forensic, “plus your established relationship with the local tribes, make you indispensable. We all have to forgo any personal prejudices to get this done.”
    Apparently Fion wasn’t big on academic overachievers. Kaimi was used to that reaction, and had no problem with it, and she wouldn’t trade her uncontrollable thirst for knowledge for anything. Except Jayme. But it would never come to that, because his quest for knowledge equaled hers. But this thing about the Irish and English working together in harmony? Not at all likely. “If you’re the English, and I’m the American, is there someone representing Ireland? Or do you fill both roles?”
    “Eamon Grady. He’s on temporary sick leave. And there was someone else in the beginning. The original Irishman actually set our camp up, but was killed before Eamon and I arrived. I was never told who he was or where he was from.”
    Grady? Common name. And Jayme’d never mentioned any relatives. “How did he die?” An image of M6342CN popped into Kaimi’s mind. If he’d been here, the CIA was up to their asses in this…and so was the KGB. Everything she’d read seemed to indicate that the KGB was the only intelligence agency using spy dust. Too many questions with no answers.
    “No one said for sure, but the rumor mill has been running three-to-one in favor of poison. Fits, considering our mission.”
    Well, then. Kaimi tabled the incongruity of politics. She had bigger problems. Like if M6342CN was the dead guy, and how to retain control of the work, because no way was she going to turn a biological weapon this potent, and currently without an antidote, over to any government. First step, Kaimi—set up your groundwork. “Are there more people on our team?”
    Fion’s attention was entirely