Soul of the Assassin by Jim DeFelice, Larry Bond Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jim DeFelice, Larry Bond
lightweight night glasses, Ferguson scanned the block, trying to see where Arna Kerr had gone. He spotted the light from her laser device before he saw her; when he finally saw her he thought she was being targeted by the infrared laser sight on a gun.
His heart jerked, his impulse to help. Then he realized that she was the one with the laser, and that she was taking measurements— maybe distances for a sniper. Ferguson settled down against the tiles, watching her continue her work.
Pretty, but not as beautiful as Thera. Thera had an attraction that other women couldn’t match.
Ferguson leaned back as Arna Kerr began walking up the street in his direction.
“She’s moving,” he said into the radio as she passed. Then he yawned.
“Tired, huh?” said Guns.
“She wore me out.” Ferguson laughed, then went to find a place to climb down.
~ * ~
9
SARATOV, RUSSIA
Artur Rostislawitch set the culture dish down next to the microscope, then reached for the tray with the slides. He could feel his hands starting to tremble inside the thick rubber gloves that were built into the protective glass case enclosing his work area.
Rostislawitch’s nervousness had nothing to do with the bacteria he was examining, even though the dish contained an extremely deadly and contagious form of E. coli—so dangerous, in fact, that the amount in the dish could kill hundreds of thousands if judiciously deployed. Handling it through the sealed work area, Rostislawitch knew he would not come into direct contact with it. Indeed, one of the bacteria’s assets was that it was relatively safe to handle if certain precautions were taken. Placed in a sealed glass container and suspended in the proper growth medium, the bacteria was essentially inert.
Rostislawitch was nervous because he intended on taking some of the material out of the lab. Getting the bacteria to this workstation without arousing suspicion had been difficult; he’d had to make it appear as if it were a harmless form of E. coli rather than the superbug he had created some years before. Creating a false paper trail, preparing the transit vessels, establishing plausible alibis, studying the security system—he had worked for weeks to get ready. Now he needed five more minutes’ worth of patience until the cameras watching the lab went off-line before he could proceed. The video system went offline every Tuesday at exactly 4:45 a.m. while the main computer that ran it backed itself up automatically. That would give him a ten-minute window to take the material without being seen.
Rostislawitch pretended to be studying a specimen, twitching in his seat. He’d waited so long for this day; surely he could wait for a few more minutes.
He rehearsed what he would do—separate two grams of the material, insert it into the medium dishes he’d positioned on the left. Return the material to its safe. Dispose of the other dishes by putting them into the incinerator bin.
Put everything away. Go downstairs, retrieve the dishes from the bin, which he had disabled earlier.
Remove his ID from the security lock. Punch the sequence to erase it.
All within fifteen minutes.
After that—the train, the conference in Bologna, the Iranian.
Freedom.
Rostislawitch knew he could do it. He had rehearsed it several times.
He glanced at the clock. Four more minutes.
~ * ~
10
BOLOGNA, ITALY
Arna Kerr didn’t go back to her hotel until close to eleven a.m. Since she didn’t sleep, the team didn’t sleep. It didn’t bother Ferguson, but Guns’ eyes were sagging when they met at the Café Apollo just down the block. Thera felt stiff and was noticeably cranky. Rankin just frowned at everyone, one hand over his ear. He was monitoring the bugged transmissions from Arna Kerr’s hotel room, listening to the capture from the mike he’d planted on the opposite roof. All he could hear was the
His heart jerked, his impulse to help. Then he realized that she was the one with the laser, and that she was taking measurements— maybe distances for a sniper. Ferguson settled down against the tiles, watching her continue her work.
Pretty, but not as beautiful as Thera. Thera had an attraction that other women couldn’t match.
Ferguson leaned back as Arna Kerr began walking up the street in his direction.
“She’s moving,” he said into the radio as she passed. Then he yawned.
“Tired, huh?” said Guns.
“She wore me out.” Ferguson laughed, then went to find a place to climb down.
~ * ~
9
SARATOV, RUSSIA
Artur Rostislawitch set the culture dish down next to the microscope, then reached for the tray with the slides. He could feel his hands starting to tremble inside the thick rubber gloves that were built into the protective glass case enclosing his work area.
Rostislawitch’s nervousness had nothing to do with the bacteria he was examining, even though the dish contained an extremely deadly and contagious form of E. coli—so dangerous, in fact, that the amount in the dish could kill hundreds of thousands if judiciously deployed. Handling it through the sealed work area, Rostislawitch knew he would not come into direct contact with it. Indeed, one of the bacteria’s assets was that it was relatively safe to handle if certain precautions were taken. Placed in a sealed glass container and suspended in the proper growth medium, the bacteria was essentially inert.
Rostislawitch was nervous because he intended on taking some of the material out of the lab. Getting the bacteria to this workstation without arousing suspicion had been difficult; he’d had to make it appear as if it were a harmless form of E. coli rather than the superbug he had created some years before. Creating a false paper trail, preparing the transit vessels, establishing plausible alibis, studying the security system—he had worked for weeks to get ready. Now he needed five more minutes’ worth of patience until the cameras watching the lab went off-line before he could proceed. The video system went offline every Tuesday at exactly 4:45 a.m. while the main computer that ran it backed itself up automatically. That would give him a ten-minute window to take the material without being seen.
Rostislawitch pretended to be studying a specimen, twitching in his seat. He’d waited so long for this day; surely he could wait for a few more minutes.
He rehearsed what he would do—separate two grams of the material, insert it into the medium dishes he’d positioned on the left. Return the material to its safe. Dispose of the other dishes by putting them into the incinerator bin.
Put everything away. Go downstairs, retrieve the dishes from the bin, which he had disabled earlier.
Remove his ID from the security lock. Punch the sequence to erase it.
All within fifteen minutes.
After that—the train, the conference in Bologna, the Iranian.
Freedom.
Rostislawitch knew he could do it. He had rehearsed it several times.
He glanced at the clock. Four more minutes.
~ * ~
10
BOLOGNA, ITALY
Arna Kerr didn’t go back to her hotel until close to eleven a.m. Since she didn’t sleep, the team didn’t sleep. It didn’t bother Ferguson, but Guns’ eyes were sagging when they met at the Café Apollo just down the block. Thera felt stiff and was noticeably cranky. Rankin just frowned at everyone, one hand over his ear. He was monitoring the bugged transmissions from Arna Kerr’s hotel room, listening to the capture from the mike he’d planted on the opposite roof. All he could hear was the
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