The cold walls of the building in the Baikonur Cosmodrome surrounded them, adorned with peeling curls of green-grey, thick paint. Barbara wasn’t quite certain where in the huge, sprawling complex of buildings, launch pads, and mission control areas they were in; the building into which they’d been ushered looked to date back to the Soviet era and didn’t appear to have been updated since. The curtains of the meeting room where they were gathered were simple white cotton cloth unrolled from hangers along the top of the windows. The table in the room was thick oak ringed with the residue of a thousand coffee mugs. On the walls, posters in Cyrillic script overlaid images of serious, uniformed soldiers, reminding onlookers of the need for discipline. A row of ceiling fans twirled lazily overhead, and the room was lit by a phalanx of inset ceiling floodlights, the fan blades throwing sweeping shadows around the room.

To Barbara, it looked like a shot from a film noir set. That seemed apropos enough.

The only other person physically present in the room was Billy Ray, now in his white fighting suit, as if he were anticipating action. Two cameras had been set on tripods in the center of the table, one pointed toward where Barbara sat, another facing Billy Ray. Several flat screens, looking as if they’d just been unboxed a few hours before, faced them and trailed wires over the table to a server on the floor; in them, solemn faces were arrayed: Secretary-General Jayewardene, in Brussels; President van Rennsaeler in Washington; President Putin in Moscow; General Ruez of NATO; President Karimov of Kazakhstan.

“Thank you all for being here,” Jayewardene said. “Your cooperation is greatly appreciated in this crisis. We are facing critical decisions that must be made quickly, and it’s imperative that we all understand and realize the consequences of those decisions before we proceed.”

“It’s simple enough,” Putin said, his translator (unnecessarily for Barbara) relaying his words in English a few moments later. “We must take out the hospital and this Tolenka.”

President van Rennsaeler brushed greying hair back from her face, shaking her head. “Your own agent said that would only release the creature that is trying to come through Tolenka.”

Putin shrugged. “She and this Tolenka were associates. She is trying to protect him. We have no assurance that any of her claims are true. Are we to just wait? I say that we move now to take out the center in Talas. Now. Waiting any longer is foolishness.”

That started everyone talking at once.

“… not even possible. The drones we sent in all failed…”

“… my government absolutely would protest the use of nuclear weapons…”

“… no guarantee that bombing would take out the man…”

“… and if Baba Yaga is right, then what? We will have no other options…”

Bill Ray gave a sigh and leaned toward Barbara. “Bureaucrats,” he said. “Everyone trying to cover their own ass.”