“They’ve been coming from the textile factory.”

“What?”

“Yes.”

“The Empress Catherine?”

“Yes.”

“That’s right in the middle of the southern industrial district.”

“I know.”

“The production facility.”

“I know, Vasily.”

“But the facility, it’s not operational. It’s just a bunch of empty tanks and vats.”

“They must have started production without telling us.”

“How could they?”

“I don’t know,” Sofia said, shaking her head. “I don’t understand how they could be so reckless.”

“They started from the sample we gave them?”

“It’s the only way.”

“That’s madness.”

“I know.”

“What are they using for containment?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s criminal. Those military technicians, they don’t know the first thing they’re doing. They don’t have a clue what they’re dealing with.”

“I know, Vasily.”

“They’re asking for disaster.”

“I’ve got to speak to Yevchenko,” Sofia said.

“He was here,” Vasily said.

She heard him put the phone down, followed by arguing. He was in the main office. She could picture it. The staff all there, soldiers guarding the doors making sure no one left.

Vasily came back on the line. “He’s not here, Sofia. He’s left.”

“Where is he?”

“The governor’s office. You’ll have to try there.”

Sofia dialed the governor’s office and a middle-aged woman’s voice answered. Sofia said, “I need to speak to Major General Yevchenko.”

“That’s not this desk,” the woman said. “You need to call Chkalovsky desk.”

“No,” Sofia said. “My name is Sofia Ivanovna. Head of the Permafrost Pathogen Institute in Sverdlovsk Military Compound Number 19. I need to speak to Major General Yevchenko immediately. It’s an emergency.”

“It’s impossible,” the woman said.

“Listen to me,” Sofia said. “I’ve got bodies piling up. Children. Women from the factory. Unless I speak to Yevchenko immediately, it’s going to get worse.”

There was a pause. Sofia knew there were two ways this could go. The woman on the other end of the line had decades of training. Today, Sofia was asking her to make an exception. To bend a rule.

“Sofia Ivanovna,” Sofia said into the phone. She kept her voice as calm as possible. “I’m at the Infectious Disease Center. Soldiers are here. It’s very important. I have authorization.”

There was a click, a long pause, and then Yevchenko’s voice.

“You son of a bitch,” Sofia said.

“Sofia, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You son of a bitch, Yevchenko. You motherfucking son of a bitch.”

“I’m going to hang up this phone.”

“Hazmat suits? Kalashnikovs? That’s just the beginning, isn’t it?”

“I’m following procedure.”

“This thing isn’t contagious. It’s a leak from your facility.”

“I’m following orders, Sofia.”

“You created this.”

“Do I need to remind you who you’re speaking to?”