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Chapters (124)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Acclaim for Frank Gardner’s Luke Carlton thrillers
  4. Also by Frank Gardner
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. 68
  75. 69
  76. 70
  77. 71
  78. 72
  79. 73
  80. 74
  81. 75
  82. 76
  83. 77
  84. 78
  85. 79
  86. 80
  87. 81
  88. 82
  89. 83
  90. 84
  91. 85
  92. 86
  93. 87
  94. 88
  95. 89
  96. 90
  97. 91
  98. 92
  99. 93
  100. 94
  101. 95
  102. 96
  103. 97
  104. 98
  105. 99
  106. 100
  107. 101
  108. 102
  109. 103
  110. 104
  111. 105
  112. 106
  113. 107
  114. 108
  115. 109
  116. 110
  117. 111
  118. 112
  119. 113
  120. 114
  121. 115
  122. Epilogue
  123. Acknowledgements
  124. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

Chris Coppinger ended the call and switched off his phone, knowing Mike would ring back for answers he wasn’t prepared to give. He rubbed his temples with the heels of his hands. His head was pounding and his hands came away slick with sweat. He knew he shouldn’t be driving, he had to get off the road, but his mind was made up. He was thinking now about a place not far from here, on the way to Malden Rushett, a place with a lake. On a Friday lunchtime in March he doubted there would be anyone around. Twelve minutes later he found the spot he was looking for and it was deserted. From the top of the slight rise he could see there was a clear run straight down to the water. He closed his eyes, said a silent prayer, then lowered all four of the car’s windows, checked his seatbelt was fastened, put the car into gear and accelerated towards the inky blackness of the water.

43

GRU Headquarters, Moscow

Friday, 11 March, 1248hrs GMT, 1548hrs local

THE HEADQUARTERS OF the GRU, the main directorate of Russia’s Armed Forces, is a modern, plate-glass-and-steel building at No. 3 Grizodubovoy Street in Moscow. The nine-billion-rouble edifice has a state-of-the-art shooting range, a gym, a pool, a café and even a winter garden with its own fountain. Vladimir Putin once famously landed on its roof by helicopter to begin his tour of inspection, pacing over the GRU’s sinister black bat emblem on the floor. It is not a building that welcomes outsiders.

Colonel Arkady Petrov was no outsider. A clinical virologist by training, he had been ‘encouraged’ to transfer his skills at an early stage of his career from civilian medical research into the branch of the military that oversaw Russia’s vast chemical and biological warfare stockpiles, inherited in the 1990s from the now-defunct Soviet Union. Inside this man’s head there were countless dark secrets. Among the many qualifications that had propelled him to the senior ranks of the GRU was a surprisingly detailed knowledge of what went on inside Britain’s top-secret laboratory at Porton Down. He had gleaned it in large part from the GRU’s own network of agents in Britain before they were unceremoniously expelled in the wake of the Salisbury Novichok attack in 2018.