Budapest, Hungary

October 26, 9 p.m.

Doctor Andor Rozsa poured himself a gin and tonic and settled into his favorite armchair as he waited for the top-of-the-hour news update from the BBC. He tuned in every morning before work and every evening when he returned from Pharmamediq, to get the latest figures on the spread of the pandemic and information on efforts to identify the stealth component of the mystery virus.

“As the death toll from the H1N6 pandemic tops eight million people in ninety-eight countries, we have breaking news from the World Health Organization,” the newscaster reported. “WHO officials say a laboratory in the U.S. has successfully isolated the genetic makeup of the virus, which is apparently a chimera of the H1N1 virus and the pneumonic-plague bacteria.”

Andor frowned and turned up the volume.

“It is not clear when the U.S. Army’s AMRIID laboratory in Maryland achieved this breakthrough,” the announcer said, “but it was apparently some time ago, since the WHO press release indicates the renowned facility has also come up with an experimental antiserum that appears, at this early stage, to effectively battle the disease’s symptoms.”

Andor absentmindedly set down his drink on the antique cherry table beside his chair, missing the coaster. It couldn’t be true. It was incredible that any lab had even isolated the stealth component so soon. But the prospect of also coming up with any kind of effective antivirus? Impossible. It had to be wrong.

“WHO officials say that human trials of the experimental vaccine will begin immediately at the Fort Detrick facility, and, if all goes well, widespread production of the antiserum could be underway in a matter of days. So far, that’s all we have on this breaking but encouraging news from the World Health Organization. We will be following this story closely and bring you updated information as we get it.”

Andor turned down the sound and sat unmoving for several minutes, clenching the chair’s padded armrests. Impossible, he repeated to himself. Perhaps this lab had discovered something that muted the symptoms temporarily, or delayed the rapid progression of the disease. That might be entirely possible, given AMRIID’s considerable resources and track record. But surely these human trials would prove that their experimental vaccine was ineffective as an actual cure.

He would have to greatly accelerate the timetable for announcing his own antivirus. But he’d still make billions. Once AMRIID’s failure was confirmed, disillusioning the public that a quick end to the nightmare was possible, he’d be even more acclaimed.

Andrews Air Force Base, Maryland

October 26

Zoe had flown many times in her father’s private business jet, so she wasn’t as impressed with the Falcon 7X they were boarding as someone who’d never seen the luxury of such planes. She wondered, however, how Gianna’s employer had managed to commandeer it as well as get clearance for their flight into Heathrow, since that airport was technically closed.

She and Gianna were the first to arrive. A steel-and-glass half-wall separated the nearly forty-foot-long cabin into two sections. The forward compartment contained the galley and eight large swivel leather chairs with tables, while the rear held an executive console desk with computer, a long couch, and the restroom.

They took seats together on the couch. Gianna placed her hand on Zoe’s thigh, and Zoe covered it with hers. “Is it wrong to want you again?” Zoe asked.

Gianna smiled but didn’t reply.

“I must be crazy. I’m about to confront a man I thought I knew and ask him to confide in me, tell him with conviction that I care about him when all I want to do is shake some sense into him…” Zoe gazed into Gianna’s dark eyes. “And I can’t stop thinking about how you felt in me, how you taste, and how I can’t wait to be alone with you.”

Gianna kissed Zoe’s palm. “You’re not crazy. I feel the same.”

The sound of boots on the metal staircase stopped them.

“Ready to kick some British ass, Fetch?” a female bellowed before anyone came into view. Misha appeared in the forward cabin a few seconds later with a broad smile on her face and a beautiful blonde on her heels. Her grin disappeared when she spotted Zoe. “I didn’t know we had company, Gianna.”

“Pierce didn’t tell you?” Gianna asked.

“Nah. No time. Said we’d be briefed on the way.”

“You know Zoe.”

“Yeah.” Misha glanced at her, then back to Gianna. “This is very unconventional.”

Gianna finally broke the silence that followed. “She’s our last chance to get Edward Anderson-Howe to talk.”

Misha’s face was expressionless. “You seem to be that a lot. Everyone’s last chance, I mean.”

“Hi, I’m Cassady,” the blonde behind her said, scooting around Misha to offer her hand.

“Zoe Anders—”

“I know. Thanks for saving our butts.” She gave Zoe a genuine, welcoming smile. “And don’t mind my friend here.” She motioned with her head to Misha. “She can’t stand the thought of someone else saving the world.”

The pilot’s voice over the intercom told them to take their seats and buckle up for takeoff.

Misha and Cassady took the two seats nearest the front, facing each other, while Zoe and Gianna claimed side-by-side seats farther back, across the aisle. The jet took off and no one spoke for a long while. Zoe kept glancing at Misha, in the rear-facing seat. Misha kept staring out the window as though deliberately avoiding them, all the while exuding a sullen anger.

“Misha doesn’t like me,” Zoe whispered.

“She’s cautious, that’s all,” Gianna replied in an equally low tone. “Luka is her best friend, sister practically.”

“And she almost died.”

“I think the shock of what could’ve been is what she’s angry at.”

“If you say so. I think she dislikes me. That was the second time I heard the name Fetch,” she added, hoping Gianna would explain.

“It’s my name when I’m on a job…mission.”

“Like a code name?”

“We call it cover.”

“You all have one?”

“Correct. And no, I can’t disclose theirs.” Gianna smiled.

Zoe studied Misha and Cassady for several seconds, wondering what their cover names were. Fetch suited Gianna well, she thought, since she’d said she often rescued hostages. “Your company has a lot of women,” she said.

“Yes.”

“Why?” This was traditionally a man’s job. Was she really that conservative?

“Because women are just as able to fight, chase, track, and apprehend, but with an added benefit. No one sees them coming and no one suspects them. Briefly, women are more lethal because they’re the perfect secret weapon. What they lack in muscle they more than compensate for with technique and invisibility.”

“Invisibility?”

“Their sex makes them undetectable when you’re expecting men. And only a woman can get a man of any stature, any background, no matter how secretive, to talk. The vaguest prospect of sex can make even the hardest crumble.”

“That would explain why you’re all attractive. But they…you, don’t actually…”

Gianna laughed. “No.”

“How did you all get involved in this work? How did you find them?”

“We didn’t. They found us.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ll tell you what I can about that some other time. Right now, though, we should get some rest.”

London, England

October 27

After landing at Heathrow, the jet taxied to a private hangar where a black sedan was waiting for them. Zoe was sandwiched in the back between Gianna and Cassady, while Misha sat in front beside the driver, a taciturn man in a dark gray suit. Though it would have taken a commercial jet more than seven hours to cross the Atlantic, the Falcon had made the journey in five, so it was nine a.m. local time when they arrived.

Gianna squeezed her hand encouragingly as they headed into central London, but no one spoke. When they pulled up in front of the Paddington Green police station, the four of them got out, Gianna leading Zoe into the building.

“Are you certain you don’t want me in there with you?” Gianna asked as they were escorted to the visitor’s room where her uncle had been taken to meet with her.

“He’ll talk more freely if I’m alone with him, I’m sure. But stick close.”

“We’ll be just outside.”

Zoe took a deep breath as the guard outside admitted her.

Her uncle’s appearance had changed radically since she’d seen him at the Loose Cannon party just three weeks ago. His casual, relaxed demeanor had given way to a gaunt, haunted appearance, and his usually crisp, button-down shirt and navy suit were disheveled, his tie gone, no doubt a result of the many hours of questioning he’d already undergone.

He brightened only slightly when he looked at her standing in the doorway, a downcast expression quickly replacing his half smile of recognition. “Hello, Zoe.”

“Hello, Uncle.” She forced herself to remain calm and friendly. Castigating him for what he’d done wouldn’t get them the information they needed. She kissed him on the cheek before settling into a plastic chair opposite his. They were alone in a visitor/attorney room, free of cameras and recording equipment.

“I…I’m so sorry you and your father have been dragged into this,” Edward said. “It’s all a big misunderstanding. I’ve no—”

“Uncle Eddie, I know you would never have intended that your work cause the deaths of so many. You’re not that kind of man. But please don’t deny your involvement in this.” She met his eyes and didn’t look away. “You’ve never lied to me before, and now isn’t the time to start. You made sure father and I were protected against this, and I’m grateful. I know how much you love us both.”

“I do, Zoe. I would never, ever—”

“But millions of innocent people are dying right now. Millions,” she repeated. “And you’re the only one who can stop this. Every minute you delay telling authorities everything you know, thousands die. Our friends, their families, people out there who might one day discover something that could change the world for the better. You have to help them.”

“Zoe, I can’t,” he said, burying his face in his hands. “I just can’t. I’m not worried about myself. I’ll take whatever punishment they give me. I deserve it.”

She went to him, stooping to put her arm over his shoulders. “Then why? Why won’t you tell them what you know?”

“There’s…” Edward’s voice broke, and he paused. “The man behind all this…he’s crazy. Brilliant crazy, and extremely ruthless,” he told her in a low voice. “He’s been very careful to make sure this plan of his goes off without a hitch. If he finds out I’ve led authorities to him, he’ll make sure you and your father pay for my betrayal. I can’t let anything happen to either of you, don’t you understand that?”

“Uncle, even if that were true, our two lives are certainly worth saving millions of others. And I’m sure we can be well protected until he’s caught and put away.”

“You don’t understand. You may find this man, but no one will be able to hold him for long. He’s destroyed all evidence, except for some personal records, which I’m sure are well hidden. He may have to wait to come after you, but he will eventually if he learns I turned him in. You can’t stay protected forever. And worse…” Edward’s hands were shaking and his eyes kept scanning the room, as though he was paranoid the man he was talking about could somehow know what was going on

“Worse?” Zoe prompted him.

“This man has developed many other viruses, Zoe. Some maybe even more dangerous than this one. I don’t know what he plans to do with them. Release them, sell them to a government or terrorist group somewhere. Who knows? I’m afraid if I tell authorities about him, he’ll just disappear after he’s released from questioning and immediately unleash some worse evil.”

“Then you have to tell what you know. He probably already has plans for these viruses, and you may be the only one who can help stop him.”

“I just can’t, Zoe. I’m sorry.” Edward slumped back in his chair. “I’m telling you, the police won’t be able to find anything on him. I’ll only put you and your father at risk.”

Zoe could see he wouldn’t reveal anything to her that she might tell authorities. “Don’t leave, Uncle. I’ll be right back.” She knocked on the door and the guard opened it. Gianna, Cassady, and Misha were waiting just outside. She led them away from the guard, out of earshot, and briefed them on what her uncle had told her. “What should I do? He obviously knows a great deal, but he’s not willing to tell me anything I might pass on to the police.”

“We need to call in,” Cassady said to Allegro and Gianna. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Wait here, Zoe,” Gianna told her.

Zoe watched as the women ducked into a vacant visitor room farther down the hall. While she waited for their return, she backtracked to the nearest desk and asked the officer if she could use his telephone. Her father answered on the first ring.

“Daddy?”

“Zoe? Is that you? Where are you?”

“I’m in London at the Paddington Green police station. I’m trying to get Uncle Eddie to talk to me.”

“Have you had any luck?”

“I’ll tell you when I see you. Can you come pick me up? I should be through soon.”

“Of course, honey. I’ll leave right now. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too, Daddy.”

She returned to the visitor-room hallway just as Gianna came out of the room farther on with the other two women. As they walked toward her, Zoe noticed that all three had a no-nonsense, determined air. The benign women she’d witnessed before had turned into a rapacious, almost-dangerous force.

“We want to go back in with you,” Gianna said. “We may be able to convince your uncle to tell us what he knows.”

“All right,” Zoe said. Once more, the guard opened the door, and she led the others into the room. Edward immediately sat up straight and looked wary.

“These are some friends of mine, Uncle. I trust them completely. Gianna,” she indicated with a tilt of her head, “rescued me in Colombia.”

“We work for a private organization,” Allegro told Edward. “We work outside the realm of local law-enforcement restrictions. And we have an excellent track record of being able to find what others cannot,” she said with a cocky smile. “No matter how well this man has hidden his records, these virus formulas…if anyone can find them, we can. And we will do it very quietly. He’ll never find out you tipped us off. Once we have the evidence, we can lock him away for good, where he’s no threat to anyone.”

“You have to accept your responsibility for your part in this,” Zoe told him. “Trust these women. Do it for me, if for no other reason. I’ve never asked you for anything. Now I’m literally asking for the world.”

Edward buried his face in his hands again, apparently torn. Zoe stooped beside his chair, stroking his back but holding her tongue. She wanted to lash out, tell him how angry she was for his part in this madness, but her softer approach was apparently having results.

Finally, he looked up at them with a resigned expression. “The man you want is named Andor Rozsa. He’s a virologist with Pharmamediq, Incorporated in Budapest, though you’ll probably find no proof there of what he’s done. We did all our research at a secret laboratory in the Carpathian Mountains.”

“Where exactly is this lab?” Cassady asked.

Edward described the location and how to get there. “Rozsa shut down the lab just before the virus was unleashed and cleaned up the evidence of what went on there. He has to have his research records somewhere, but I’m sure he hid them well. He told me no one would ever be able to find any evidence against him. That he’d planned it too well.”

The rest of the story spilled out of him, how he’d met Rozsa four years prior at a virology and bacteriology conference, where Edward was giving a seminar on biological weapons. Rozsa had later enlisted his help in creating the deadly chimera that he’d named Charon, but Edward denied knowing it would be used for a global pandemic. He claimed Rozsa told him that he learned that the Russians were perfecting a biological weapon that combined H1N1 and pneumonic plague, and he only wanted his company, Pharmamediq, to have an antidote ready when that weapon was released.

Zoe wanted to believe him, but at this point she didn’t know what her uncle’s real involvement or motivation was.

“I think we have what we need,” Misha said when he finished.

Zoe knew that every minute counted. “We have to leave now, Uncle Eddie. Thank you for talking to them.” She let him embrace her for several long seconds while he stammered further apologies, then said good-bye and followed them out the door.

Cassady stopped just outside the room and offered her hand. “Thank you for everything,” she said. “We all owe you so much.”

“I’m happy I could help.”

“If you ever need anything, let me know.” Cassady gave her a final smile and turned to go.

Misha stepped in front of her. Zoe knew Misha disliked her and, in some way, held her responsible for her friend’s near-death. Misha looked her straight in the eyes. “You did good,” she said. “Luka, Gianna, they’re safe because of you. I…thank you.”

“It was the least I could do.” Zoe looked away. Rationally she knew none of this was her fault, but part of her still couldn’t release the guilt and shame.

Misha’s hand landed on her shoulder. “It’s not your fault you’re related to that crazy-ass scientist,” Misha said. “Okay?”

Zoe nodded.

“Hey.” Misha squeezed her arm and Zoe met her eyes. “You’ve survived FARC camps, guerrillas, the jungle, saved lives…and…” Misha looked to Gianna and back at her again. “Got this one to loosen up and smile. You’re a good woman, Zoe.”

Misha had just pointed out everything she’d come to hate, love, and accomplish in the past month. Having so much change happen in only a few weeks overwhelmed and frightened her. But it was true. She’d made it home, and somewhere along the way she’d found the answers to questions she’d never considered.

“Thank you,” Zoe said. Then she did something that was alien to her; she hugged the virtual stranger. “You’re a good woman, too, and Luka is lucky to have you as a friend.”

Misha smiled. “Yes, she is, and I make sure to remind her every chance I get.” She turned to Gianna. “See you in a few,” she said, and headed toward the entrance.

Zoe turned to Gianna. “You’re going with them.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Zoe’s voice was louder than she intended. “How can your employer send you to work? You’re still healing.”

“Just a few bruises. The rest is gone. Zoe, I wasn’t asked to go. I asked for permission to.”

“But—”

“It’s what I do,” Gianna said gently. “We need to move on this quickly, before this Rozsa guy disappears. We bought a little time by telling the WHO and the media only that AMRIID had come up with an experimental antivaccine. But the news will get out that it’s a real cure. Or that British police have a suspect in custody who knows something about the pandemic. And when that happens, who knows what Rozsa will do?” She put a hand on Zoe’s shoulder. “The girls need all the help they can get. I want to be there for them. Make sure we all make it back.” She paused and looked at her intently. “We look out for each other, Zoe. Like family.”

Gianna had told her that she had avoided relationships of any sort for this exact reason. “How long will you be away?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. She had to show Gianna she could deal with her life.

“I’m not sure. A few days maybe.”

“And then what happens?”

“After that, it’s back to the U.S.”

“Of course.” Zoe bit her lip. “It’s where you live, after all.”

“How…how about you?” Gianna asked, staring awkwardly at her feet. “What will you do?”

“Hope you get back in one piece.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s hard not to worry when…you care.”

“I bet you can’t wait to see your father.”

Zoe tried to smile, but she knew it was only halfhearted. “He should be here soon to pick me up.”

“Good.” Gianna looked pensive, like she wanted to say or ask more. Zoe wished she’d say something about them, about coming back to her. She had tried to let Gianna know that she was prepared to endure her lifestyle, maybe even one day embrace the work she did, because it was something Gianna loved and needed. But had Gianna understood? Zoe had to know. She needed an answer before Gianna left, because she couldn’t bear the limbo, but at the same time she was terrified of the answer.

“What…” Zoe stopped and took a deep breath. Man yourself, she thought. “Where does that leave us?”

“There you are!” someone shouted, and both of them turned. Zoe’s father came running down the long hallway.

“Daddy!” Zoe fell into his outstretched arms. They embraced for several moments before Zoe pulled back for introductions. “Gianna, this is my father.”

“Sir.” Gianna stuck her hand out.

Zoe’s father grabbed it and shook hard. “Thank you for what you’ve done for my daughter. For us.”

“No need to thank me. She’s a wonderful woman, sir, and I’m lucky to have known her.” Gianna turned to Zoe. “I’d do anything for her,” she said, never taking her eyes from Zoe’s.

Then Cassady and Misha appeared from the other end of the hall. “Gotta go,” Cassady said pointedly.

“Wrap it up, Gianna,” Misha called.

“I have to go.” Gianna shook Zoe’s father’s hand. “Take good care of her.”

“I will.” Derrick cradled Gianna’s hand in both of his.

Gianna turned to Zoe. “I…” Gianna looked from her to her father. This was so not how Zoe wanted to end this. “I have to go,” Gianna finally repeated, and walked away.

Zoe watched her go. The other ops waited at the far end.

Her father placed his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get you home, honey.”

Zoe looked from him to Gianna’s retreating back. Please look back. Please don’t walk away.

And Gianna did. She stopped, turned, and stood looking at Zoe. Zoe left her father’s embrace and ran after her, Gianna meeting her halfway. They came to a halt and stared at each other.

“I’d do anything for you, Zoe,” Gianna said.

“Come back to me.”

Gianna lifted her off the ground and kissed her soundly on the mouth before she put her back down. “As soon as I can,” she said, and ran off.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Budapest, Hungary

2:30 p.m.

En route to Budapest, Fetch, Allegro, and Lynx received an abundance of information on Andor Rozsa from Reno. He’d sent copies of Rozsa’s passport and driver’s license photos to the jet’s computer, along with the addresses of his home and office at Pharmamediq, his work schedule, and the make and model of his car. He’d also enhanced a satellite photo of Rozsa’s house, which told him there were exterior security cameras there, so he’d cracked several local security-company databases until he was able to obtain specifics about the type of system installed.

Montgomery Pierce would feel bound to contact Interpol with the information they’d gleaned on Rozsa from Edward Anderson-Howe. But they’d managed to persuade him to give them a six-hour head start. They hoped they could either find the documents they needed—his virus formulas and evidence he was involved in the current pandemic—or track Rozsa to them if he got tipped off the authorities were looking for him and tried to flee.

From what Edward had told them, they decided to concentrate on Rozsa’s home and secret laboratory. It was less likely he would store anything at Pharmamediq, and it was the most difficult place for them to break into, anyway, especially during business hours. Interpol might get to Rozsa and arrest him there before he left work, but that would only be a minor impediment. Without any evidence against him, he’d eventually be released and they could track him then. In the interim, they’d be free to keep searching for his formulas.

Lynx rented a car and headed to the secret laboratory, while Allegro and Fetch got another and went to Rozsa’s home, a two-story, red-brick structure in a northern suburb.

As Fetch parked curbside across the street, Allegro scanned for cameras. They were right where Reno had said they’d be. “He’s got a rotating cam above the front door and another over the side entrance. The house is rigged with an alarm as well.”

“That’s not a problem, right?” Fetch checked her watch against Rozsa’s work schedule.

“Cover me.”

“You have eighty-six minutes.”

“Gotcha.” Allegro grabbed her tools, the first thing she packed for every mission, and put in her earpiece transmitter. After exiting the car, she approached the house from the side without the camera, carefully timing her final dash to the structure while the front cam was rotated away from her. Fortunately, no one seemed to be at the adjacent homes, and the street was empty of cars and pedestrians. “Read me?” she asked Fetch.

“Affirmative.” Allegro thought back to Luka and that the last time she’d been breaking and entering was with her. They’d laughed so much together. But Fetch was a competent op and one she trusted as much as she did Luka.

Allegro crept to the back of the house. No wires or cams, just as Reno had indicated. She looked through the window for visible alarms or motion detectors. As she expected, a red light was blinking at the top of the window frame. If she tried to open it, she’d set the alarm off. She retrieved her glass cutter. “The electricity box is on the left side of the house,” she told Fetch. “I need you to pull it until I get in to deactivate from inside.”

“Is there a fallback?”

“I’m gonna go with yes,” she replied as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves. “It’ll take one minute to activate. Should be enough time.”

“On my way,” Fetch said. A few seconds later, she added, “Ready?”

“Go.” Allegro attached the cutter to the window, then removed the glass piece and opened the latch from inside. Boosting herself in, she ran to the front door. After removing the cap from the home-alarm control panel, she attached the code-breaker wires to the motherboard. “Hit the lights,” she said. “I have twenty seconds to punch the code before it goes off.”

The moment the electricity was on the device started running cryptanalytical algorithms. In less than ten seconds it had the code. “We’re good,” Allegro said.

“Of course,” Fetch replied. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

Allegro did a fairly quick search of the ground floor—front room, kitchen, dining room—looking in all the usual places where people kept safes. When she didn’t find anything promising, she ran upstairs. The doors to the two bedrooms, bathroom, and storage closet were open, but the one at the end of the hallway was locked. She opened it with a pin. “I’m in his office.”

A laptop was sitting on Rozsa’s desk. While she waited for it to boot up, she searched the rest of the room. In a closet full of clothes and boxes, she moved things around until she spotted a small cutout panel behind the clothes—a door of some kind. When she opened it, she found a Czech-made Buldok combination safe the size of a couple of shoeboxes. “Bingo.”

She set her stethoscope in her left ear and twisted the dial, listening for the telltale clicks that would help her discover the contact points. In ten minutes she found all five numbers and opened the safe, which contained several files of documents. Most were the usual personal papers: insurance policies, passport, stock certificates, birth certificate. Nothing about virus formulas. But in one manila envelope was a safe-deposit-box key and account information from a Budapest bank.

“Contact headquarters and get Monty to inform Interpol to send their people to the FHB Bank on Ulloi Street,” she told Fetch. “Looks like Rozsa has an account there, and a safe-deposit box, under the name Artur Varga.”

“Will do.”

The last file in the safe contained more financial records. “I have a Cayman bank printout… Holy shit, the guy’s got twenty mill in it.”

“One guess where that money came from.”

“I hope Reno can nail some names,” Allegro said as she photographed the documents with her cell phone, including some transfer codes. They might reveal where Rozsa was getting his funding, perhaps some clients he’d sold formulas to.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes to get out of there,” Fetch said.

“Gotcha.” Allegro did a quick scan of Rozsa’s laptop. Several files were heavily encrypted, so she pulled the hard drive to send to Reno for analysis. Finding nothing else of value, she hurried downstairs, reactivated the alarm, and ran to the window she’d come in. She was back outside within the minute before it armed.

Fetch already had Reno on speakerphone by the time she reached the vehicle. “Whatcha got, Allegro?” he asked.

“Rozsa’s hard drive for you to analyze. But first, I need you to track his twenty-mill Cayman account.”

“Not too shabby for a scientist,” Reno said.

“Can you find out who put it there?” Allegro punched his e-mail into her phone and sent him the documents.

“You know that answer.” Reno sounded almost offended. “But it’ll take time. Maybe days.”

“How long do you need to access his account?” Fetch asked.

“I can crack that pretty fast. Maybe fifteen minutes. Why?”

“Move the money,” Fetch said.

“What?” Reno asked.

“They’re about to grab him,” Fetch said. “When they find out they’ve got nothing to keep him—”

“He’ll take the cash and run,” Allegro said.

“And start all over,” Fetch added.

“Transfer it to the Organization’s account,” Allegro instructed Reno.

“Is that legal?”

“We’re not keeping it, nerd.”

“Besides, it’s probably stolen and laundered. Nobody’ll be in a hurry to claim it,” Fetch said.

They settled in to wait for Rozsa to return home from work.

3:55 pm

Doctor Andor Rozsa sat at his computer in his office at Pharmamediq, checking the latest news reports before he left for the day. He found nothing new about the experimental antivirus developed by the American lab in Maryland. The human trials they were conducting would surely prove the vaccine ineffective, and he’d still be able to cash in on his own formula. It took him eight months, with the help of the best virologists, to create an antivirus for Charon. The Americans couldn’t possibly find a cure in a few days.

Just as he was about to shut down his laptop, a chime alarm alerted him that one of his security cameras at the secret laboratory had detected movement. The system was fine-tuned to eliminate things like mice or rats, so he immediately accessed the multidisplay that showed the current feeds from all twelve cameras.

On camera three, which was mounted above the entrance to the dormitory wing, he saw a blond-haired woman, dressed in black trousers and a black shirt, fiddling with the access panel beside the door. He brought the camera full screen and peered intently at the intruder, his heart racing. Who the hell was she, and how did she find out about his lab? Most important, what was she looking for? She was obviously no petty thief, because she’d already managed to get through the electronic gate. But she didn’t look like the police, either.

He pulled up the multicam display again, checking to make sure she was alone. Were authorities somehow onto him? With shaking hands, he punched in the code to remotely access his home security system. The alarm was still on and active, but he picked up movement on the hidden wide-angle spy cam mounted by the basement window. A woman he didn’t recognize was just getting into an unfamiliar car parked at the curb across the street from his house. Another figure was in the car behind the wheel, but even after her companion joined her, the car didn’t move.

They were waiting for him.

Cursing, he went to the window of his office and peeked through the blinds at the parking lot below. No sign of any police cars, though he couldn’t see into vehicles well enough to determine whether anyone was waiting down there as well.

Returning to his desk, he called up the lab cameras again. The woman intruder had gotten inside and was moving through the dormitory to the kitchen. Who the hell were these people, and why were they stalking him?

He stared at the multicam display and watched the woman break through the door to the wing with the labs. As he picked her up on the next camera, she reached for her cell phone. He remotely accessed the speakerphone system outside the patient cells and turned up the volume.

“I’m here, and inside,” he heard her say. “All quiet. Howe was right, it looks like the place has been abandoned for a while. Found an operating room. Just now getting into the wing that probably has the labs and offices.”

Howe. Edward Anderson-Howe had betrayed him and informed authorities about his involvement in the pandemic.

“I’ll let you know if anything turns up,” the woman said to whomever she was talking to, then ended the call.

They knew. He grasped the edge of the desk and stared at his white knuckles. They would come for him soon. He needed to retrieve his formulas, but he certainly couldn’t go home. And he couldn’t get to the duplicate set on the flash drive in his safe-deposit box. The bank had closed an hour ago, and authorities might be staking out the place. He had to get to the files in his computer at the lab. First, though, he had to distract his pursuers long enough to get away and decide what to do next. He slammed the laptop shut. “I’ve worked too fucking long and too fucking hard to let anyone stop me now,” he said out loud.

Only one man could help him. He picked up his cell and called Patrik.

3:55 p.m.

Lynx’s specialty was swords and knives, not security systems, but every ETF in the Organization had learned how to override the most commonly used access panels. She found herself in a large dormitory of stripped beds and empty lockers.

The dorm led to a dining area and kitchen. The pantry contained some canned food, but clearly no one had been around for some time. No cooking odors lingered, and she spotted mouse droppings here and there.

The last area of the wing she was in was apparently an employee rec room, with a large television, chairs and couches, and game tables. At the V of the complex was a small hallway, with doors leading outside to the courtyard and one providing entry to the other wing. The latter also had a security access panel. She overrode it and stepped inside. To her left was a well-equipped surgical suite. On her right, a concrete room with an enormous furnace. Ahead, another door leading to the rest of the wing. As she stepped through it, her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. It was Allegro.

“How’s it going?”

“I’m here, and inside,” Lynx replied. “All quiet. Howe was right, looks like the place has been abandoned for a while. Found an operating room. Just now getting into the wing that probably has the labs and offices.”

“I pulled the hard drive from his home laptop. It has encrypted files on it, but no way to know whether the formulas are in them. We’re waiting for him now. Should be here any minute.”

“I’ll let you know if anything turns up,” Lynx said, and disconnected.

She was in a long hallway with several rooms on either side. Each door had a window and a pair of heavy-duty bolt locks mounted outside. As she stepped toward the nearest room, she noted the self-contained meal slot below the window.

It looked like a prison cell. Vacant and immaculately scrubbed clean. The mattress on the cot had been removed. All the other rooms on either side were identical. Where the human trials had been conducted, Lynx surmised. She shuddered at the thought of the poor wretches who’d been part of Rozsa’s experiments.

The next area contained the biolabs, four in all. Hazmat suits hung outside in a neat row. Each lab was accessed through a security panel far more sophisticated than the ones at the entrances. These required a palm print and retinal scan.

Lynx used her flashlight to illuminate each room through their massive windows adjoining the hallway. The labs all had refrigeration units, computer terminals, incubation chambers, centrifuges, glove-box chambers, and other high-tech equipment.

Continuing through a set of double doors, she reached a series of offices. Most had simple wooden doors and key locks, but one had a steel reinforced door accessed through another electronic security panel, this one requiring a passcard. Rozsa’s office, she presumed. She set to work on gaining access.

5 p.m.

“Where the hell is he?” Allegro asked, glancing at her watch. “It’s fifteen minutes at most from Pharmamediq.”

“Maybe running errands. Groceries or something,” Fetch replied. “Or maybe Monty jumped the gun and he’s in custody already.”

Allegro pulled out her cell and dialed Pierce. “Have you contacted Interpol yet?”

“A little while ago,” he replied. “They’re putting together a team to send to Pharmamediq, and they’ll cover his Budapest bank in the morning. Reno informed me about the Cayman account. Have you found anything else?”

“Lynx is at the lab, and we’re staking out his house. But he should’ve been here by now. We thought maybe he’d been arrested at work.”

“Not possible,” Pierce said. “Only got off the phone with them a short while ago. It’ll probably take them another hour to get everything together to start looking for him.”

“No leaks about Edward being in custody or anything that might have tipped Rozsa off?”

“No. I’ve got someone monitoring the news feeds.”

“Okay, we’ll keep you posted,” she told him, and disconnected.

“If he doesn’t show in another half hour or so, maybe we should try Pharmamediq and see if his car is still in the lot,” Fetch suggested. “Could be working late.”

“Sure hope we haven’t guessed wrong, and he’s already in the wind with his formulas,” Allegro said.

Another forty-five minutes passed. Twilight came and went, and activity in the neighborhood busied as Rozsa’s neighbors returned home.

“Got another possible,” Fetch said, as headlights turned onto the street from the direction of Pharmamediq. They both watched the vehicle in their side mirrors as it neared, then turned into Rozsa’s dark driveway.

“That’s it,” Allegro said. “A Smart Roadster Coupe. Did you get a look at the driver?”

“Too dark,” Fetch said, watching the figure emerge from the car through her binoculars. The dark silhouette hurried into the side entrance. “About the right height and build, can’t see much more.”

A light went on inside, then another, but the curtains had been drawn. Less than two minutes later, both lights went off again, in reverse sequence, and the silhouette reemerged and got back into the car.

The driver pulled out and sped away with a slight screech of tires. They still hadn’t been able to get a clear look at the figure; the nearest street lamp was a long block away.

Fetch followed at a discreet distance as the Coupe wound through the streets of Budapest, heading north.

5:50 p.m.

The access panel to Rozsa’s office had been a challenge for Lynx, but after ten minutes, she finally got inside. Breaking into Rozsa’s file cabinets had been much easier, but unproductive. They’d all been cleaned out. She hit another snag when she booted up his computer, and had to call Reno for help in quickly breaking through the password screen.

Of the dozens of files, many looked like patient charts, and others were lab-analysis reports. One folder, named Future Projects, was locked, and took another ten minutes to access.

Lynx was no scientist, but she knew enough chemistry and biology to realize she was looking at what she’d come for—Rozsa’s virus formulas. Ten in all, including one named Charon. Glancing through some of the others, she saw that Rozsa had also developed deadly chimeras using the Ebola virus, smallpox, anthrax, and other lethal biological agents.

It took her several minutes to bluetooth all the files to her phone. Once that was done, she e-mailed them to headquarters. Then she pulled the hard drive from Rozsa’s computer and smashed it against the desk until it was in pieces.

She got Allegro on the phone. “Mission accomplished. I’ve located the virus files and sent them to HQ. The originals have been destroyed.”

“Great news. I got his bank info, and Reno’s transferred Rozsa’s funds into Monty’s account. Twenty mill.”

“Rozsa had twenty-million dollars and you put it in the EOO account?”

Allegro laughed. “And we’re about to wrap this up. We’re tailing Rozsa and he’s headed your way. Should be there in another fifteen minutes or so.”

“I’ll be ready from this end,” Lynx said, and disconnected as she headed toward the door. When she turned the handle an alarm blared, and overhead a rotating bulb like the one on cop cars bathed her in red light. She tried the handle again, and nothing happened. She was locked in with no security access panel on this side.

But she didn’t begin to truly worry until an automated voice came over the loudspeakers. “Intruder alert. The detonation sequence has been activated. This building will self-destruct. You have ten minutes to override.”

She searched the door as her heartbeat accelerated. It was steel, and the hinges were on the outside.

“Nine-and-a-half minutes to detonation,” the mechanical voice stated.

She began to search for some kind of override button. Nothing around the walls. No large air vents she might escape through.

“Nine minutes to detonation.”

“Fuck,” she said, fumbling through the desk drawers. Her heart was racing now, and she had to fight to remain calm.

“Eight-and-a-half minutes to detonation.”

In the final drawer, which she had to pry open, she discovered a large pile of paperwork. She scanned the documents. Nothing there to help her get out of the room.

“Eight minutes to detonation.”

After exhausting the contents of the desk, she pulled volumes from the built-in bookcase, tossing them to the floor as she searched for some secret mechanism to override the alarm.

“Seven-and-a-half minutes to detonation.”

She moved every piece of furniture, so she could examine each inch of the floor and wall space for an escape route.

“Seven minutes to detonation.”

The ceiling was solid, except for a quartet of air registers, far too small to help. A security camera was installed high in one corner. She stood on a chair and thoroughly examined it for an override button. Nothing.

“Six-and-a-half minutes to detonation.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Andor Rozsa pounded on the desk in Patrik’s office as he stared at the computer, watching the intruder trash his office as the detonation sequence counted down. In a single day, all his plans had gone to shit. All those months of hard work for nothing. He couldn’t go home, because authorities were likely expecting him to do just that. And though he’d hoped to be able to use his lab again for further research once the pandemic was over, it would have to be destroyed now.

But the worst blow was the loss of his primary Grand Cayman fortune. He couldn’t believe it when he heard the intruder say they’d transferred his millions to another account, but a quick check on Patrik’s computer had confirmed they’d spoken the truth. The account had a zero balance. He didn’t dare try to use an ATM to access his Bulgarian bank account, which had less than a million forints in it—the equivalent of about seven thousand U.S. dollars. It was likely already blocked, and any effort to use his card would only tip off authorities as to his location.

The automated voice announced five minutes to detonation. Rozsa turned up the volume on his office intercom when the intruder pulled out her cell phone.

Lynx dialed the one person she couldn’t leave this world without saying good-bye to. The only person that mattered, and the one who would have a long painful road to travel.

Jack picked up.

“Baby, it’s me,” Lynx said.

“Miss me?” Lynx knew from her tone that she was smiling. She loved that smile.

“Baby, listen.” Lynx tried to keep her voice steady. “I’m in trouble.”

“Where are you?” Jack immediately sounded concerned.

“Budapest.”

“I’m coming over. I can be there—”

“Listen to me, Jack. There’s no time.”

“Time for what?” Jack’s voice was abrupt and near-panicked. “What the hell’s going on, Cass?”

Lynx took a deep breath, to keep her voice from betraying her own panic.

“Talk to me, damn it,” Jack shouted.

Tears began to stream down her cheeks. “I want you to know you were the best part of my life,” she finally said. “Please know I’ll always be there.”

“Cass, honey, tell me what’s going on.” Jack sounded manic.

“I won’t be coming back, baby. I have a few minutes before this place blows.” Just as the words left her lips, the mechanical voice announced four minutes to detonation.

“Cass, no!” Jack shouted.

“I love you, Jack.” Lynx didn’t want her to hear the moment her life ended—to witness her death through the sound of an explosion.

“No!” Jack yelled. “No, this isn’t happening. No, baby. I love you, don’t… No!”

“I love you so much, baby.” Lynx hung up, Jack’s screams still echoing in her head.

The Coupe pulled into the open gate of the laboratory compound, which covered several acres, but instead of heading toward the main V-shaped structure, it kept to the perimeter and headed toward some outbuildings tucked a good distance away in one corner, in a wooded area. Fetch, who’d been following at a distance with the lights off, parked the rental in the trees and cut the engine when the Coupe stopped and Rozsa emerged from behind the wheel.

She and Allegro got out and split up to follow him on foot. Fetch veered to his right, keeping in the shadow of the trees, while Allegro approached him from the front. Fetch trained her night-vision binoculars on him and got a good look at his face. “It’s not Rozsa,” she told Allegro through their earpiece mics.

“Then who the…cover me while I find out who the hell he is,” Allegro replied.

Fetch trained her Glock on the figure as Allegro emerged from behind a tall boulder several feet in front of him, holding her gun as well. “Who the hell are you?” she asked the man.

The driver of the Coupe took a step back, seeming surprised, but recovered quickly. “You’re trespassing,” he said calmly. “I should be pointing a gun, not you.”

“Still doesn’t answer who you are.”

“I work here.”

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s worked here for months. This place is a ghost town.”

“This matter is none of your business.”

“Maybe not, but it’s my problem.”

Fetch kept her gun aimed at the man as she edged closer to them.

The man’s cell phone rang and he looked at Allegro.

“Go ahead. Tell Rozsa I can’t wait to meet him,” Allegro said. “I want your movements nice and slow.”

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone. He spoke in Bulgarian, and Fetch could see through the binoculars that his eyes never left Allegro. He ended the call and lowered his hand back to his pocket. Fetch followed his movement and saw him replace the cell with a gun. Allegro couldn’t have seen it from her angle in the dark. “He’s got a gun,” Fetch warned Allegro.

Allegro dove behind the boulder for cover as she shot at him at the same time he fired his weapon. Then he ran for cover as well, racing through the trees toward the outbuilding.

“I’m on him,” Fetch told Allegro as she raced after him. He slipped behind the outbuilding—one that housed generators, from the sound of it. Fetch detoured silently through the trees to get behind him.

He was crouching behind the corner of the building, looking out the way he’d come. When he started firing blind in Allegro’s direction, Fetch jumped him from behind. She got him in a headlock with one arm and grabbed his wrist with her other hand. Then she banged his gun hand against the wall until he dropped his weapon. “I have him,” she said in her earpiece as he continued to struggle.

He reached into his pocket with his other hand and pulled something out, but she couldn’t get a good look at it. “What’s that?” she said, squeezing his throat with her arm as she grappled for it.

Finally she got it away from him and stared down at it. It was a remote detonator.

“Too late,” the man rasped. “In a few seconds, only dust will remain.” Fetch bashed his head with her gun butt and he went limp in her arms.

“The place is about to blow,” Fetch shouted to Allegro.

“Lynx!” Allegro yelled back. “Lynx is still in there.”

Fetch spotted her running toward the main structure and took off after her. Allegro would never make it; they were nearly a quarter mile from the labs. Fetch ran as fast as she could, and when she was close enough to Allegro she tackled her. They’d just touched the ground when the building exploded. Fetch kept Allegro covered with her body as debris rained down on and around them.

“We have to get her,” Allegro shouted, and struggled to get away from under Fetch.

Fetch loosened her hold slightly and they both got to their knees. “You’ve been hit,” she said. Blood was pouring from Allegro’s head from a large gash in her scalp just above her forehead. Allegro kept wiping at her eyes because blood was pouring into them. “I’ll go look for her,” Fetch said. “Stay here.”

But as soon as they got up, another explosion threw them both a few feet back. More debris hurtled at them, and it was several seconds before they could get to their hands and knees. Fetch struggled to breathe amid the widespread dust and looked up as Allegro did. The whole main building was now enveloped in flames, several walls were gone, and the structure was caving in on itself in pieces.

“She’s gone,” Allegro said. “She’s gone.”

Everything was still moving in surreal slow motion. Without thinking, Fetch got up and started to walk toward the building.

Allegro grabbed her by the shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“I have to get her out,” Fetch said. “Maybe she’s still alive.”

“She’s not, Gianna, and I can’t let you go in there. Look…” Allegro pointed at it. “Nothing’s left, and it’s still exploding.”

Fetch stared at the flames as a pair of smaller blasts shook the ground under their feet. Allegro was right. Lynx could have never survived. “I didn’t save her,” Fetch said, looking up at the sky. She was telling Allegro and Sam and whatever else was out there listening that she had failed. Failed again to save another soldier.

“God damn it,” Allegro said as tears mixed with the blood running down her cheeks.

Fetch dropped to her knees and watched in a trance as the building burned, the fire heating her face “We can’t save everyone, right?” she asked bitterly, repeating Pierce’s words. “All we can do is try.”

Allegro dropped down next to her. “That’s supposed to be a fucking comfort?”

“No. Just a fucked-up fact.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Southwestern Colorado

One week later, November 3

Fetch and the EOO had had to deal with endless questions from National Security and Interpol while the atmosphere amongst the ETFs and her bosses was unbearably glum. Lynx’s death had devastated and shocked them all. The conciliatory words of ops and friends hadn’t consoled her and Allegro. No one could have prevented what happened, just as they couldn’t help thinking they’d failed. Failed to save Lynx and failed to catch Rozsa. The fact that they’d found the formulas and his bank account, basically what they were asked to do, didn’t even begin to exorcise the desolation.

Worse, they couldn’t give their fellow ETF and friend a proper funeral. The organization didn’t salute any flag or support any religion. A memorial service commemorated the deceased before the body was incinerated. Although this ritual usually provided some closure and finality, Lynx’s body had never been retrieved. Probably burned to ashes in the explosion. All they had left to eulogize was a picture.

Nearly every op was present during the ceremony in the Organization’s speech room. Most had cried during Joanne’s speech, but Montgomery Pierce had stood alone at the end of the room, expressionless. His eyes occasionally drifted to Joanne or to Lynx’s picture, but he primarily stared outside.

Fetch, who’d stayed in the back as well, went to him when the speech was over and everyone had started to break into small groups. When Pierce turned to her, she recognized her own hurt in his eyes. Fetch nodded slightly in recognition of their mutual pain, and Pierce nodded back and returned to looking outside.

Fetch followed his gaze and saw a woman with short, dark hair, dressed in black, down on the playground outside the junior dormitory. She swung back and forth on one of the children’s swings with a bottle in her hand, and despite the appropriately gloomy, overcast day, she was wearing sunglasses. Fetch didn’t recognize the trespasser. Security was tight and few outsiders were allowed on EOO grounds, certainly never unescorted. She looked at Pierce. “Sir, do you know her?”

Pierce never took his eyes off the stranger. “Yes.”

“Is she one of us?”

“Not anymore,” he replied.

Strange. No op ever walked away, and this one wasn’t old enough to have retired. Although Fetch wanted to ask more, this topic was clearly not up for discussion. “Is she here for Cassady?”

Pierce merely nodded.

“She didn’t attend the ceremony.”

“I let her know she was welcome. But she’s not interested in this.” Pierce motioned to the room behind him still looking outside. “For her, Cassady will always be by the swings.” He turned his face away from her, but not before Fetch saw a tear escape the corner of his eye.

When someone below their window opened the door to go outside, the stranger immediately got up and left.

Fetch was too restless to return to the dormitory where she’d bunked while awaiting the memorial service, so she left the building to walk on one of the numerous trails that led off campus into the adjacent Weminuche Wilderness Area. A week had passed since she’d returned to the States from Hungary, but she’d lived it in a daze. Her only clear memory was of her brief conversation with Zoe her first day back.

She’d told Zoe where she was and that they’d lost Cassady. Fetch had wanted to confide more, or tell her nothing at all; it didn’t really matter as long as Zoe was on the line and she could hear her breathe.

Zoe hadn’t pressed for answers concerning her return or said anything other than she missed her. Even Lynx’s loss hadn’t suppressed the unfamiliar pleasure of being missed. Zoe had given her plenty of those new feelings. But the one that had rocked her thoroughly was the one she’d experienced back at the London police station, when, for the first time, she had needed to look back before heading off on an assignment. When she’d found Zoe looking right back at her, Fetch knew those were the eyes she wanted to see from now on before she shut any door. Before she left for all her uncertain returns.

But could Zoe live with those insecurities and fears? Zoe had said that love was worth the eventual pain, and Fetch now knew that was true. Had she known the outcome with Sam, she wouldn’t have changed a thing. Sam had taught her she could love. And Zoe made her feel she was worthy to have someone love her.

London, England

Date: 2015-01-11; view: 669