Читать книгу Nightmare Army - Don Pendleton - Страница 11

CHAPTER FOUR

Fifty hours earlier

Dr. Richter stood at the main doors of the lab, watching as a man dressed in jungle fatigues rappelled from a helicopter to the small clearing in front of their concealed facility. The moment his feet hit the ground, he unclipped himself from the rope, which was swiftly drawn back up as the helicopter was already flying away from the area. It had hovered over the site for maybe a minute at the most.

“Dr. Richter,” the man said as he walked up to him. “I’m Reginald Firke. Interesting place you have here.”

Well, at least he didn’t try any sort of “I presume” crap, Richter thought with a disdainful glance at the man’s crisp new fatigues and polished combat boots. “Come inside.”

The two men headed across the small vehicle bay to the outer airlock, past the half-dozen mud-splattered Range Rovers, and stood in front of an industrial glass-and-stainless steel door as the large outer doors closed behind them, throwing the large room into semi-shadow. “I assume your cargo is intact?”

Firke shrugged off a small backpack and held it out. “In here are all the samples you will need. I’m sure our mutual boss has informed you that time is of the essence.”

“Of course he has.” Richter didn’t move to take the pack, nor did he spare the shorter man a glance as the outer airlock door opened. “The emphasis was unnecessary, however. You’ll have the tailored viruses and be on your way soon enough.”

If the slender man was insulted by Richter’s annoyed tone, he didn’t visibly react as they headed into the airlock. “No need to insult the messenger, Doctor. I’m simply passing on the message, that’s all.”

“Humph.” Richter stared straight ahead as compressed air jets containing a powerful disinfectant covered their clothes and exposed skin. He didn’t think much of Stengrave’s hired goon. He’d had the man researched and learned he was ex-SAS, the British special forces arm of the military. That information did not faze him in the least. In Richter’s opinion, a gun was only used to accomplish a goal when those involved neglected to use their brains to find a more elegant and much less obvious solution. “I assume that Mr. Stengrave has also let you know of my requirements for this experiment?”

The safe tone sounded and the inner airlock door opened, revealing the cool tile and sterile-white hallway. Richter stalked forward through the corridors, brushing past men and women who knew to get out of his way when they saw the tall man walking with such purpose.

“Yes, that is not a problem. You’ll have all the eyes on-site you requested.”

“Good.” Richter turned a corner and lengthened his stride, making the shorter man hasten to catch up. It was a faint jab at the other man, but the doctor took his pleasure where he could find it.

“You realize, of course, that observing is all you will be doing.”

Now Richter did turn to the other man and let a small, mirthless smile appear on his face. “Of course, Mr. Firke. Just as you would never presume to tell me how to do my job, I would not feign to know the slightest bit of knowledge about how to carry out yours.”

The ex-military man’s only physical response was a raised eyebrow. “So glad we understand each other.”

Richter didn’t reply until they reached the culture room. White biohazard-suited figures, their faces obscured by full hoods, worked on various trays and at various lab machines and microscopes. The doctor stopped by a drawer set into the wall and hit the switch on an intercom.

“Dr. Estvaan to the transfer drawer, please.” A lithe figure on the far side of the room approached. Richter pulled the drawer out of the wall, then turned to the other man and held out his hand. Firke unzipped the backpack, pulled out a small metal case that was cold to the touch and handed it to the scientist.

After placing the metal case in the drawer, Richter closed it, sending it into the room as he activated the intercom again. “This is the package you were briefed on. You have the entire lab at your disposal to create as many strains using the DNA in here as possible over the next sixteen hours. This assignment takes priority over all others.”

With a curt nod, Estvaan took the case and pulled the rest of the suited workers to her as she began assigning tasks.

“Why Armenia?” Richter asked as he watched the group begin its work.

“Stengrave told you about the final destination, then,” Firke replied.

“Of course.” Richter glanced sidelong at the ex-soldier. “That is the one thing I don’t understand about this experiment. There are plenty of isolated places with a limited population around here. I could find several villages that would suit his needs within a half-day’s travel.” He turned to the other man. “So, why Armenia?”

“You know, I asked him the very same question.” Firke’s mouth curved into a grim smile. “Apparently, about fifteen years ago, a shipment of medical equipment was hijacked and its contents sold on the black market. Don’t ask me who bought it. I didn’t even know there was a black market for plasmapheresis machines, but apparently there is. Anyway, the thieves stole from our boss, at a time when his company had invested everything in this new technology. That shipment was not only worth several millions dollars, it was supposed to open up an entire new world of sales opportunities for Stengrave Industries. When the shipment was lost, insurance didn’t cover nearly enough to make up for the loss. The company almost went under.”

Richter blinked. “And you’re telling me that Mr. Stengrave is now about to exact his revenge on the Armenian thugs who did this to him?”

“Well, over the past fifteen years, that small family of Armenians that took that shipment has grown into one of the largest crime families in the country. The file that my predecessor was required to keep on them is almost 20 gigabytes of data and pictures. Their leader has a vacation place in the mountains, inside a walled city.”

Richter held up a hand. “Just to be clear... Mr. Stengrave has been holding on to these DNA samples for all this time?”

“Well, you know the old saying ‘keep your friends close, and your enemies closer’? Mr. Stengrave has quite a collection of both.”

“But to collect all of these various samples... It seems, I don’t know...”

“Obsessive?” Firke shrugged. “Perhaps. Let’s just say you’re not the only one who’s spent time in a lab coat over the years.” He cleared his throat. “Regarding what you and your people are about to do, one could say that Mr. Stengrave just wants to run a test in a controlled area, where there is the least likely possibility of your little tailored friends in there getting loose. The fact that he’s selected that particular place to do so—also delivering a particularly gruesome revenge on an old enemy who by now has most likely forgotten the reason why this biological death is about to rain down on him—could be a staggering coincidence...or you could chalk all of this up to simple Stengrave efficiency, and take out two birds with one carefully aimed stone.”

Firke turned to the other man. “Fortunately, down here in the Congo, you do not have to worry about such things. Just keep working on what Mr. Stengrave wishes you to work on, and all will be well.” He looked up and down the corridor. “Since I’m basically stuck here for the next several hours, I’ll be in my quarters. Notify me an hour before the batch is ready.”

He walked down the hall, leaving a silent Richter staring after him and trying to repress the shudder that quivered its way down his spine.

Thirty-three hours earlier

AT 0200 LOCAL TIME, Reginald Firke’s eyes popped open without the aid of an alarm.

Swinging his legs over the side of the cot he’d been sleeping on, he sat up and reached for his tablet. Logging in to the local network, he accessed the security cameras and saw that just about everyone was down for the night, except for Dr. Estvaan and her busy crew, still working hard in their lab. He brought up the camera in the main security room and recorded about three minutes of the lone sentry there, then got up and left his room.

Firke walked through the corridors until he came to a room marked Security. The door had no handle on this side, just a keypad and a card slot on the wall next to it. Firke pulled a black key card out of his pocket and swiped it through the reader. The door opened with a soft click.

“What are you doing back?” the guard at the monitors asked as he began turning in his swivel chair, a finger reaching for a large red button. “You’re not due for another thirty minutes...”

Firke held up the black key card. “Good reflexes. You know who I am, correct?”

The guard nodded dumbly, removing his finger from the alarm button.

“And you know who I work for?”

Another nod.

“Very good. I am conducting a surprise inspection of this facility’s security. I am pleased to see that you are at your post and alert. However, I must now ask you to step outside for a few minutes.”

Still nodding, the guard slowly got up from his chair and walked toward the door. He didn’t take his eyes off Firke, who watched him leave, not turning back to the main security console until the door was completely closed. Once it did, he casually glanced at the panel, which controlled every camera both inside and outside the complex, as well as doors that sealed off particular areas and even overrode controls for power, temperature and air intake. Firke didn’t bother with any of these; he just pushed the guard chair aside and sat on the floor.

Taking a screwdriver with an unusual, star-shaped tip from his pocket, he unscrewed six screws in a small panel under the console. Removing that panel revealed a small, unmarked console with another keypad next to five switches, each one underneath a small light and all in the down position.

Firke carefully punched in a long, memorized series of numbers. Then, taking a deep breath, he flipped each switch one by one from right to left. In each case, a green light came on. When they were all activated, he let out the breath he had been holding. If he had input the code wrong, activating the last switch would have been the end of him and the base—literally. Carefully, he replaced the panel and screwed it back into place.

Getting up, he checked the display on his tablet, which showed the camera’s view of the security room in what was supposed to be real time. Instead of him, however, the screen showed the footage of the guard Firke had recorded earlier. With a satisfied nod, he replaced the chair behind the console, then walked to the door and opened it to let the guard back inside.

“Is everything all right?” the man asked as he walked to his station.

Firke nodded. “Everything is exactly as it should be. You are doing a fine job. Keep up the good work and we may have a promotion for you once you’ve completed your duty here. And the best way you can do that is by never mentioning that you ever saw me here, all right?”

“Yes, sir.”

Firke nodded. “Excellent. As you were.”

The young man almost raised a hand to salute, but turned it into scratching an itch on his cheek. Smiling thinly, Firke stepped outside the security room and let the door close.

Retracing his steps, Firke was back in his room without a soul seeing him. Sitting on his cot again, he activated a control panel that showed a full blueprint of the base with small red Xs revealed in every room and ringing the outside perimeter of the complex. Below all of that was a simple sentence: BASE SELF-DESTRUCT SYSTEM PRIMED.

Satisfied, Firke cleared his tablet and set it aside, then lay down and was asleep within sixty seconds.

* * *

“YOU HAVE everything you need. Introduce it into the water supply, or even food will work. It can survive being boiled or cooked, so whatever way you find will get it into the target populace will be best. Of course, you and your men would be best advised to not eat or drink anything in the area once the contamination has been implemented.”

“Of course not.” Firke raised his voice over the sound of the approaching helicopter. “It has been a most interesting visit, Doctor. Thank you for your hospitality.” He reached behind him to check on the backpack strapped to his back.

Richter only nodded curtly as the helicopter stopped over the clearing and a line was dropped. Firke hooked his harness onto it and was drawn upward. The moment he was clear of the tree line, the helicopter rose higher into the air, carrying him, still on the line, with it.

Richter watched it shrink until it vanished into the sky, then turned and headed back into the lab complex.