35

The gas continued to seep into the arena. Annja wasn’t sure what kind of gas it was, but she knew for sure it was beginning to affect her. She tried to keep herself higher than the gas, which seemed to hover at about waist level.

Once it knocks me out, they’ll drain the room and then come in and get me, Annja thought. After that, I’m the guinea pig I never wanted to be.

She glared up at Dzerchenko and Tupolov. They were engaged in conversation and not looking at her. How many times have they done something like this? she wondered. It’s already old hat to them.

The thought of all the other people they’d probably killed made Annja sick. If not for me and Bob, I have to find some way to avenge their deaths at least.

Was she just being silly? Since when did she feel the need to avenge people she’d never even met before? It was a weird feeling that came over her.

What, am I channeling Joan of Arc now, too?

Annja frowned. The gas. It had to be the gas. The yellow mist was floating higher now, roughly on the same level as her stomach.

She hefted the sword. I wonder if this blade can shatter glass?

Annja moved farther back into the arena. Dzerchenko and Tupolov still paid her no mind.

She grinned. That’s right. You boys just keep on about your business and don’t mind me. As far as you know or care, I’ll be unconscious soon enough.

Annja judged the distance and the angle. It just might work.

But what about me? How am I going to get up there to escape?

The viewing platform stood about ten feet above the arena area. And there was no way Annja could leap that high on her own.

Her head swam.

I have to try, she thought. I have to try to jump it. And if I fail, then at least I might take one of those sick bastards with me.

She backed up some more and turned the sword so it sat in her hand like a spear. I hope my aim is decent.

Annja aimed the tip of the sword right at the space between Dzerchenko and Tupolov. With any luck, she might rip them both apart. And if the sword penetrated the glass, then there might be a chance the gas would dissipate through the break.

Annja shook her head. It’s the only option I’ve got.

She took one more step back, then jogged forward and hurled her sword.

As the sword rocketed toward the window, Dzerchenko and Tupolov suddenly saw the movement out of the corners of their eyes. As if in slow motion, they both turned. Annja saw the looks of surprise dash across their faces and she smiled.

Dzerchenko and Tupolov might have been ingesting stem-cell shakes, but their reaction to the sword looked incredibly slow to Annja. Dzerchenko started to move forward and bumped into Tupolov, who had turned to run in the opposite direction.

The tip of the sword impacted the glass.

Annja heard the crash as it shattered through, piercing and sending zigzag fault lines scoring through the rest of the viewing-window panel.

But the sword didn’t stop there. It kept moving through the glass and in the next instant, it ripped into Tupolov’s body from behind, shish-kabobing him as the tip jutted out of his chest.

He screamed once and then fell silent.

Annja wasn’t through. She took a running start at the wall, trying to generate momentum as she did so. As she moved, the yellow gas churned in her wake.

Annja hit the base of the wall and drove herself up, taking another step off the wall as if she was running up it vertically.

She reached up and grabbed the ledge.

She grabbed with her other hand and then pulled herself up and into the laboratory.

Dzerchenko had been knocked off his feet when Tupolov took the sword in his chest. Bob was nowhere to be seen.

Tupolov was definitely dead. Annja grabbed her sword and ripped it out of his body. Then she went over and hauled Dzerchenko up by his lapels and thrust the sword blade under his chin.

“Turn off the gas!” she screamed.

He nodded, already coughing as some of the gas leaked into the laboratory. Annja watched as he punched some buttons on a control panel and then leaned back against it, coughing some more.

“Where is he?” she said.

“Who?”

“Bob.”

Dzerchenko pointed at Tupolov. “You killed him in cold blood.”

Annja nodded. “And you should remember that. I’ll do the same thing to you unless you do exactly what I tell you to do.”

“Why did you kill him?”

“You would have killed me,” Annja said.

Dzerchenko shook his head. “It wasn’t about killing you. It was about using your talents to enhance our experiments. You would have truly been the unstoppable soldier we’ve always dreamed of creating.”

Annja shook her head. “I’m no one’s soldier.”

Dzerchenko spit a stream of blood out of his mouth. “Bah, another idealist who thinks she doesn’t have to stand for anything.”

“The only thing I’m interested in standing for right now is my life and the life of my friend Bob.”

Dzerchenko nodded. “Yes, yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear.” He eyed her. “But tell me something. Do you really think you’ll get away with this?”

Annja frowned. “Get away with what? I just want to leave.”

“Yes, but it’s really not that easy, now, is it?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, obviously, Bob is in need of medical care. And there’s really not a doctor around these parts for miles. The closest hospital is back in Magadan.” He grinned. “You’re a long way from rescuing Bob, my dear.”

“Stop calling me that,” Annja said.

Dzerchenko shrugged. “As you wish.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s back in the holding room. He’s fine right now, but as I’ve already warned you, moving him would be a grave mistake.”

“So what would you have me do—leave him here?”

Dzerchenko coughed once and spit a bit more blood. “I doubt very much you’d entrust him to me. Unless I’m mistaken.”

Annja shook her head. “You’re not.”

“So, your option is to either move him and watch him die, or leave him here while you go get help. Quite the choice.”

Annja looked at him. “What is it you want, Dzerchenko?”

“I want amnesty, of course. I don’t want to be tied to this fiasco. Tupolov is dead—let him take the fall for it.”

“Wow, I’m in awe of your loyalty.”

Dzerchenko waved her off. “Please. We always knew it might come to this. And we were prepared to do what was necessary to ensure our own survival. We had to make sure we weren’t prosecuted for what we’ve done here.”

“But I thought you said you had help from higher-ups. Surely they wouldn’t allow you to get into trouble,” Annja said mockingly.

Dzerchenko pushed himself off the control console and took a step around Tupolov’s body. He bent and patted Tupolov on the head before looking back up at Annja. “Our backers aren’t the people who are overtly in power. Nor would they be willing to expose themselves for the sake of two doctors. They’re interested in results, not in controversy.”

“I see.”

Dzerchenko sighed and then stood back up. “We are something of a deniability, if you get my meaning.”

“I do. But that doesn’t make your life any easier.”

“No. It does not.”

Annja looked around. There was a lot that could implicate both of the scientists. “So, what now?”

“I propose something of a truce,” Dzerchenko said.

Annja smiled. “You’re kidding me.”

“I assure you, my dear—” Dzerchenko caught himself. “Sorry. I assure you there is nothing humorous about my proposal. At the end of the day, I must be a pragmatist, as I’ve said before.”

“And ensure your own survival,” Annja said.

“Exactly.”

“So how does this work? I leave you here with Bob? I go get help? Then what? You disappear or something?”

Dzerchenko took a breath and let it out slowly. “Actually, I think I’d probably be fine right where I am. I think I can go right back to playing the role of Father Jakob, the poor, unaware soul who had a network under his feet and never knew it.”

“Oh, come on. You really think anyone will fall for that?”

Dzerchenko smiled. “Never overestimate the intelligence of the average person, Annja. They are more gullible than most people would admit.”

“So, Tupolov takes the fall?”

“Yes. He will be seen as the main instigator of this mess.”

Annja pointed at the computers. “They’ll shut all this down. Confiscate the entire setup.”

“Perhaps. But I will get more equipment.”

“And you’ll continue to do what you’ve been doing.”

Dzerchenko smiled. “Would you believe me if I told you I’d be a good boy now?”

“Definitely not.”

He laughed. “Then I won’t insult your intelligence.”

Annja hefted her sword. “What guarantee do I have that you won’t kill Bob as soon as I leave?”

“Why would I?”

“Spite?”

Dzerchenko shook his head. “I have no reason to kill Bob. And I’m more than content with fading away for the time being. You go. I’ll look after Bob while you’re gone. When you get help and are on your way back, simply call me on my cell phone and let me know so I can extricate myself from this.”

“And resume your role as the village priest.”

Dzerchenko spread his arms. “These poor people, they need all the spiritual guidance I can offer.”

Annja frowned. “The Bible. You ever read that book, Dzerchenko?”

“Of course. My role demands I am well versed in it.”

“Any of it ever stick with you?”

He laughed. “Not one silly word of it.”

“You’re a real man of God.”

Dzerchenko leaned closer. “I’m a real man of myself, Annja.”

Annja didn’t like it. She hated making a deal with Dzerchenko, but she needed his expert help to take care of Bob. A serious gunshot wound wasn’t something she could afford to take lightly, even if he’d already been patched up. One small misstep could reopen the wound and Bob could bleed to death. Annja was determined not to see him die twice. Especially after losing Gregor.

“I need a minute with Bob before I go,” she said.

Dzerchenko lit up like a bad aluminum Christmas tree. “I take it we have ourselves a deal?”

“Yes.”

Dzerchenko held out his hand. “Care to make it official?”

Annja seriously thought about cutting his hand off, but resisted the urge. Instead, she simply looked at him. “If you double-cross me, I will slice all the skin from your body and roll you in salt.”

Dzerchenko merely grinned. “That actually sounds like it might be fun.”