Dark Winter by Andy McNab Page A

fine by me. I wanted to be anywhere but here, and it helped if I didn’t have to look at him. ‘The wine bottles that were collected in Penang contained pneumonic plague . . .’ He let the words hang, as if waiting for a reaction. He wasn’t going to get one from me: I wouldn’t have been here if it had been Fat Bastard Chardonnay.
    ‘That was the last batch produced for JI. We have no idea how much they’ve stockpiled in the last eleven months, but we know they’ve been planning bio attacks for some time now, mainly Far Eastern targets. Meanwhile, ASU [Active Service Unit] members have been disappearing from Malaysia. It seems they have ambitions to move further afield, which can only mean one thing. They consider themselves third wave.’
    By the look on his face, he probably hoped we’d have to ask him what it meant, but it wasn’t rocket science. Third-wave terrorism just meant these people were switched on and highly technical. They weren’t knuckle-draggers: their greatest weapon was their brains. They knew it wasn’t that hard to access information and, scarier still, they knew where to look. They had already learnt how to develop biological agents – and it was probably only a matter of time before they figured out how to split the atom in the kitchen.
    Suzy twisted on her chair. ‘Is that why the barriers are up around the Houses of Parliament?’
    He shook his head. ‘The sort of attack they have in mind can defeat any barrier.’ He put down his mug and stared at it for several seconds before jerking his head up and re-establishing eye-contact, this time with us both. ‘The problem we face, as of six hours ago, is that there are already up to six bottles in this country, possibly more. It appears they were brought in as duty-free wine by one of the four-member ASUs. Every available bit of CCTV footage from all ports of entry is being looked at to try and identify who they are – and then, of course, find them.’
    The Yes Man’s cell rang yet again in the kitchen, and Yvette answered as she came back into the room, then cut the call. His eyes followed her as she headed for him. ‘We have a source on the ground but so far very little information. The fact is—’ The Golf Club whispered into his ear.
    ‘You sure?’ He was a worried man.
    The Golf Club gave a yes as she went to her chair.
    ‘Right, source int says that there are twelve bottles, but we still do not know where they are or when they will be used.’ He paused, checking us both to make sure we’d taken in the full weight of his words. Yvette, calm as ever, picked up her coffee and sat back in the chair with the barest rustle of Gore-Tex.
    ‘How would you do it, Susan?’
    She took a breath. ‘Is it contagious?’
    The Yes Man stared gloomily into her eyes. ‘Extremely.’
    ‘Then I’d concentrate on densely populated areas with transient people traffic, so that those infected move on swiftly and infect others, like their families. Their kids pass it round at school, their wives or husbands pass it on to friends and colleagues. The chain is endless.’
    Suzy was more or less on the edge of her seat as the Yes Man took a sip and placed his mug carefully on the table, keeping his focus on her. I might as well not have been there. ‘Remember the anthrax attacks in the US?’
    She hung on his every word.
    ‘People afraid to go to work, afraid to open mail? The US suffered huge economic damage from a microscopic amount of agent. And how many deaths? Five?’
    Suzy kept nodding. If she wasn’t careful, her head was going to fall off.
    ‘It was the psychological effect that was most damaging. But this would be far worse.’
    I thought I’d chip in with my twopence-worth now, before their love fest developed into a full-scale shag. ‘So, those experts who argued that JI’s goals didn’t fully engage with the global aspirations of al-Qaeda weren’t absolutely on the money?’
    The Yes Man turned and fixed his eyes on mine,