Wanted by Emlyn Rees

of its continued existence and had come here to avail themselves of its facilities. Through military or criminal contacts, Danny supposed. More likely the latter. Because, in spite of the money that had been sunk into it since its likely initial abandonment after Chernobyl, the security would have been far higher, the staff levels too, if it had been a military installation.
    Which left three questions. Which criminal organization was bankrolling the place? How did they know Glinka and the Kid? And what had they been promised in return for their help?
    The last question was the first to which he could hazard an answer. A share of the profits. Because what had already been demonstrated here – one only had to look at the prisoner – was that the smallpox hybrid was still potent. In fact, not only did it still work, but its symptoms appeared to be even more horrific than anything the original disease had been capable of inducing.
    This was a weapon that could bring not just one man but a nation of men and women to their knees. It could make whoever controlled it not only powerful, but rich beyond belief.
    ‘Didn’t you?’ Danny said, gazing unforgivingly into the skinny man’s eyes.
    But he was now staring, transfixed, at Spartak, who seemed about to rip him limb from limb.
    Danny stepped between them. The last thing he needed was Spartak cutting loose on these two before they’d told Danny everything they knew.
    ‘They said they would kill our families, if we refused,’ said the skinny man. More tears streamed down his face. ‘They told us that if we did not work for them, they would—’
    ‘Work,’ Danny interrupted.
    The researcher’s face crumpled. He’d just realized his mistake.
    ‘In other words, as well as getting kidnapped,’ Danny said, ‘you got paid.’
    ‘Please,’ begged the researcher, ‘they said those men were criminals, the ones behind the glass. They said they were child murderers and rapists who—’
    ‘Men?
’ Jesus Christ, was there more than one? He crossed quickly back to the glass wall. Pressing his face up against its chill surface, he peered deep into the gloom. And saw something. A body. Prone on what looked like a bed. Other beds too. Were more people trapped inside?
    He shouldn’t have moved from between Spartak and the researcher – a guttural, frenzied roar tore through the room behind him.
    Turning, Danny saw Spartak crashing across the room, smashing furniture aside. He seized the cowering researcher and dragged him to the wall, then hurled the man two-fisted across a paper-strewn desk, as if he were made of nothing more substantial than straw. The researcher landed in a twisted heap of limbs, and began desperately squirming away as Spartak thundered towards him.
    ‘No!’ Danny shouted.
    But Spartak was beyond listening to orders now. He tore his goggles from his face and snatched up the screaming researcher. He locked his giant fist around the smaller man’s beanpole of a neck, as papers fluttered around them to the floor.
    ‘Look!’ he roared in Ukrainian, slamming the man’s head against the glass divide and pinning it there, so that the researcher now found himself eyeball to eyeball with the man he’d experimented on. ‘Look at what you’ve done.’
    The researcher was silent now, rigid with fear. His breath came in short, sharp gasps. His shoes weren’t touching the ground. Urine flowed freely down his legs.
    ‘You fucking scum,’ Spartak spat. He shifted his grip to lift the man with both hands and dash his head against the wall of bulletproof glass.
    But Danny threw himself between the researcher and the glass. Gripping the man’s torn coat and shirt, he pushed back with all of his might.
    Spartak’s eyes were two black beads. Danny had seen him like that before – three years ago, when he had hired him to help retrieve a US senator’s daughter from a South American kidnap gang. The drop-off and handover had been compromised by the local police.