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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

It had been agreed which of them would open the heavy door to the bunker. They all knew that what they were about to see was not going to be pretty. But they had all accepted that this was just a necessary stepping stone on the path to progress. It was simply a job that had to be done. With a grinding scrape of its rusty hinges, the door heaved open and first one, then the other, stepped gingerly inside. The man in front had come prepared. He carried a camera and a torch, which he now shone ahead of him as he made his way through the first room. Even though he was in full protective gear he subconsciously held his breath as he stepped into the inner chamber. Silence greeted him. Well, that was to be expected. He played the torch beam from one side of the room to the other and then froze. There was the chain, still attached at one end to the table leg, just as they had left it on Friday. But at the other end there was nothing.

The rhesus macaque had vanished.

59

MI6 Headquarters, Vauxhall Cross

Monday, 14 March, 0908hrs GMT

‘LET ME SPELL this out so we’re all crystal clear where we stand,’ said the Chief, his voice as deep and as grave as Luke had ever heard it. ‘We aren’t just talking about a distant outbreak of an unknown pathogen in some distant Arctic archipelago. No. This threat is, right here and right now, in this country.’ He jabbed the index finger of his right hand vertically downwards, several times, on to the table-top for emphasis. ‘We are talking about an extremist, transnational terrorist organization with sociopathic intent. An organization previously unknown to us and one we have almost no chance of getting anybody upstream inside within the time frame.’

Luke looked around him. They were in the Crisis Room on the ground floor. On his left sat the D-GRAT, the director of Global Risks and Threats, the rather grandiose title of the MI6 division that dealt with serious threats from Russia and China. To his right was Sid Khan, director of International Counter-Terrorism, across the table was the Chief and next to him was the director of Internal Security. Beside him was some tech wizard from Counter-Proliferation, a tall, sharp-faced woman with red-rimmed glasses, whom Luke had seen before, scurrying around the building, always in a hurry, always clutching some file or other. The soft blue-upholstered armchairs reserved for more informal occasions had been pushed to one side. Everyone was sitting bolt upright on stiff-backed functional chairs. Last to arrive, slightly out of breath, was Jenny Li, bearing a laptop which she took out from a slim black leather case.