Carrion Virus (Book 2): The Athena Protocol by M.W. Duncan Page B

them, weapons ready. George threw the weapon down and stood, with his hands raised overhead. She did the same, only speaking to confirm her name. Gemma offered no resistance as her hands were tied behind her back and a spit-guard placed over her head. She allowed herself to be taken. They had made it.
     
    ***
     
    Work never ceased at the research facility. Staff and guards went about their business. As long as Jane moved with a perceived purpose nobody challenged her, not even the armed guards who watched everything with a predatory interest.
    After leaving Holden the night before in his drunken despair, she spent the night formulating some barebones plan to get a message to the outside world. But who to call? Holden no doubt had connections but how many of them knew of the practices here. For many employees, the powers that be would have played with their desire to do good. Some would have been threatened. Some probably complicit in the establishment and maintenance of the facility.
    It should have been a sanctuary, a place to share her medical expertise as trade for safety. Hyde, who she assumed was Holden’s unofficial minder, had access to a phone. He walked around clutching the thing to his body like it regulated his heartbeat. She needed to prise it from his grip, use it to contact somebody, anybody on the outside that could help.
    Hyde’s personal office was before her, the blinds of the window drawn, the door probably locked.
    “You there. Nancy?”
    It took her a moment to realise the voice called to her.
    Hyde strode up from behind, the satellite phone ever present. Jane attempted to look elsewhere and not at the prize.
    “Jane,” she mumbled, pulling her eyes from the phone to his dour face.
    “Where is Doctor Holden? He is overdue.”
    “The doctor wasn’t feeling well this morning. I think he’s coming down with something.” She looked up to the humming vents. “Probably all the recycled air you’re pumping in here.”
    Hyde waved a hand in a dismissive fashion. “He’s here to work, we can’t afford to not have him working. He’s got until the afternoon.”
    Hyde breezed past. An overpowering richness of aftershave came like an aftershock. He grabbed a key from a cord on his belt and rattled it into the door lock.
    “Well, I won’t keep you.” Jane did not move.
    “Piss off,” he said in response. The door closed behind him.
    Jane burned a hole in the door with her anger. One way or the other, she was going into that office and taking his phone. It had to be soon.
     
    ***
     
    Ryan spent the night in The Owls’ Nest, his accommodation a room of unique opulence. Every piece of furniture no doubt had been chosen for its beauty. The bed, a four-poster, ornately carved frame, was as comfortable a bed as he’d ever slept in. Paintings on the wall, framed in gilded finery did not look like prints. A vase stood here and there, vases he dared not touch out of fear of breaking them. He suspected none to be reproductions.
    He waited in his room, waiting to be summoned, showering in a marble bathroom well-suited for a Roman villa. He still felt majorly underdressed, wearing a creased white shirt and jeans. When he was summoned, it was without ceremony or speech. A knock at the door, and a wave followed when opened.
    Hector Crispin, or Mr. Nippon, sat at a table crammed with breakfast foods. Large bay windows commandeered a postcard view over Tokyo.
    “Beautiful isn’t it, Ryan? For a city with such a massive population it still retains an aesthetically pleasing facade. Sit. Join me. Please, eat.”
    Ryan heaped a plate with toasted sourdough bread, poached eggs and slices of smoked salmon. Into a glass he poured equal portions of pineapple juice, orange juice, and apple juice. His eyes devoured the pile of pancakes and the jug of syrup, and thought it a little bold to start on that yet.
    “Tokyo is one of the few examples of a city where the presence of people does not detract from the beauty.