Sofia always knew this day would come. The General Staff wanted a weapon, and a weapon meant production. If they were to arm warheads, create stockpiles, equip units, it required product. A lot of product. Until now, she could sleep at night telling herself she was only a researcher, that her findings could be used as much to protect against disease as to cause it. Once they started production, that myth would be over. They would be creating a form of the bacillus that had only one purpose.

Killing.

On an industrial scale.

“Is that wise, sir?” Sofia said.

“Wise?” Yevchenko said, shaking his head. “You know what I think is wise?”

Sofia said nothing.

“Following orders.”

“But production, sir.”

“The order for production came straight from the top,” Yevchenko said, nodding toward the mandatory photo of the president on the wall.

Sofia felt the strength draining from her body. Fighting the military was the most exhausting thing she’d ever done in her life. It was like trying to hold back a glacier. It moved slowly, but when it did, the weight of it could reshape entire continents.

“Preparing for production will take time,” she said.

“You let us worry about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“The military is going to take over.”

This was not good news. Making a weapon was one thing. Making it badly, in a poorly run military facility, was about the only thing she could think of that was worse.

“Production like this is very complicated, sir.”

“I’m not here to debate this with you,” Yevchenko said. “Production will begin at a military facility and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do about it.”

“What type of quantities are you talking?”

“We’re talking tons,” Yevchenko said.

She felt the blood drain from her face.

“Tons?”

“Tons.”

“Sir, that’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible, my dear.”

“Sir, this strain, I don’t think you understand.”

“I understand perfectly.”

“This is more deadly than anything the Fifteenth Directorate has ever had to work with before.”

Yevchenko smiled. “Orders are orders, my dear.”

“Rushing this into production is asking for disaster.”

“There will be no disaster. The facilities necessary, the tanks, the vats, they’re already under construction.”

“It’s not just tanks and vats, sir. It’s filters. It’s safeguards. It’s procedures.”

“We have it all under control, my dear.”

Sofia felt a shudder run through her. This wasn’t just some tactical point she was trying to make. Lives were at stake. A lot of lives.

“Where?” she said.

“Chkalovskaya industrial area.”

“Chkalovskaya. Sir, that’s inside the city.”

“Everything’s being built to the highest standards, Sofia. You have nothing to worry about.”

“But sir, respectfully, please listen to me. This bacillus, once it’s aerosolized, the number of spores, if even a single gram…”.

Yevchenko stood. “Enough, Sofia. Need I remind you what’s at stake for you personally? For your team?”