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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

Petrov had spent a busy morning logging on to the GRU files, finding out what he needed to know. Being a colonel in Russian Military Intelligence had its benefits and its privileges, as well as its sacrifices. All that secrecy and double-talk, so tedious at times, but so worth it. And, of course, he was serving Mother Russia. His country that he loved so dearly, his country that had been so badly treated and humiliated by the treacherous and imperialist West. All the grovelling and sucking-up to Washington by that shameless drunkard Yeltsin in the 1990s while greedy Western capitalists flew in and plundered his country’s natural resources. Ublyudki! Bastards! God, it made him sick. And to think that we let their scientific inspectors into our secret biological programmes at Biopreparat? It was nothing short of treason. Well, thank heaven the rot had been stopped. Now the West and its plans had been unmasked. It was plain for all to see that everything it did, every foreign policy move, every NATO exercise, it was all designed to damage Russia, to humiliate and subjugate its citizens. That was why Russia needed a GRU. And that was why the GRU needed him, Arkady Petrov, accomplished expert in the art of chemical, biological, radiological and nuclear warfare.

He stubbed out his cigarette on the side of the tree stump, flicking it into the snow, then stood up abruptly. ‘I’m giving you three days,’ Petrov told him. ‘I want the names, all of them. I want the dates, the details, the quantities right down to the last millilitre. I want nothing left out. You will find out exactly what happened to that missing smallpox vial and where it is now.’ He studied the other man’s face, watching for his reaction. There was none.

‘And then?’ Aleksei replied at last.

‘And then I will decide what to do with your case. The more information you provide now, the easier it will go for you. But remember, three days, that’s all.’ Petrov rolled back the sleeve of his jacket and peered at his watch. ‘And the clock starts now,’ he added.

70

Near Braintree, Essex

Tuesday, 15 March, 0952hrs GMT

THE LARGE MAN in the Barbour jacket drove fast along the lanes as soon as he got the phone call. So his people had found the missing monkey. That was a relief. The fact that the animal appeared to have died of its infection was also a validation: the pathogen that had invaded its cells was clearly every bit as virulent as the Cambridge team had said it was. It still didn’t explain who had cut the chain around its neck and released it, but now they had a more immediate problem: the lad who had picked it up and handled it had become an immediate potential health hazard to all of them. It was a problem that was going to have to be fixed with some urgency.