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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 was Luke’s turn to put up his hand. ‘Sorry,’ he said, and now all eyes swivelled towards him. ‘Can you be a bit more specific about who you mean by “they”?’

‘Ah.’ Louise Band pointed a finger straight at him. ‘Good question. Right, so, yes, there is no single cohesive group. We’re basically talking about a lot of disconnected splinter groups with different grievances but all united by hate. I can tell you, some of the stuff they talk about online is nothing short of sick. Torture, Satanic snuff rituals and so on. Fortunately nearly all of it never gets beyond the aspiration stage. It’s fantasy rather than actual operational planning.’

‘And WaffenKrieg90?’ Luke asked.

The silence lasted several seconds. He wondered if maybe he had mispronounced the group’s name. He looked across at Jenny, who gave him a supportive shrug. Louise Band looked surprised. ‘We haven’t released that name yet,’ she said, sounding somewhat flustered. ‘Right now, as of this moment, we have almost no information on WaffenKrieg90. We’re starting from a blank page.’

69

Novosibirsk, Russia

Tuesday, 15 March, 0934hrs GMT, 1634hrs local

DAPPLED, DIFFUSED AND filtered through the snow-laden branches of the Siberian forest firs, the weak sun cast jagged shadows on the path before them. Colonel Arkady Petrov’s boots made a crisp, crunching sound as he walked. He was not a man to make rash, sudden decisions. He had spent the morning mulling over the courses open to him. Neither was attractive.

‘So we can do this in one of two ways,’ he said, stooping to remove a fallen branch that blocked their path. The man beside him rushed to help, but was just too late. Colonel Petrov threw him a glance and straightened up. He knew he had this man exactly where he wanted him. All he had to do now was press home his advantage.

‘Aleksei …’ He threw a paternal arm around his shoulders, the python enveloping its prey. In the brief twenty-four hours since he had landed in Siberia their relationship had changed, perceptibly for the better, as far as he was concerned. Gone was the bristling, defensive hostility from the resident head of security at this remote, secretive biological research establishment. Aleksei was now indebted to him, the GRU man from Moscow. That much was evident, because the understanding was there between them. The colonel was making it very clear that it would take just one phone call from him and Aleksei would find himself in a whole world of pain. He had him by the balls.