11

Holst lay awake on a thin mattress in a locked room that in most respects was distinguished from a prison cell only by the presence of an air-conditioning unit.

Such spartan conditions were, he supposed, designed to concentrate minds. It was effective. He could think of nothing except the need to complete their project as soon as possible and being released to enjoy the fruits of his labours.

Bellman, though, seemed incapable of resigning herself to their situation. For the past two hours her persistent sobbing had leaked mournfully through the thin wall that separated them, denying him any possibility of sleep. From his room on the far side of hers Holst could hear Kennedy pleading with her to remain calm. He was having no luck. She was like a stubborn child, somehow convinced that if she made herself wretched enough her suffering would end. He suppressed the desire to yell at her to shut up and think of the money, knowing that it would only make her worse.

Through a thick fog of tiredness Holst tried to reconcile himself to their situation. He resigned himself to the fact that he would have no opportunity to communicate with the outside world and would be confined for months, if not longer. It was a grim prospect. He tried not to think too hard about how his wife would be reacting or what she would tell their children. On the upside, if Brennan and Drecker and whoever they were working for held good to their contract, he and his family could look forward to a comfortable future. This was the hope he had to cling to. If he were forced to organize a similar project, he would be tempted to follow similar methods. Secrecy and speed were paramount. There had been many occasions during the past century when governments eager to develop and exploit nascent technologies had bribed, cajoled or deliberately sequestered scientists to the service of the state. The competition to develop the atom bomb, the cracking of wartime codes and the race to put men into space had all been organized with military methods and efficiency. In the age of global business the state had simply been replaced by a different kind of rapacious and self-serving entity.

He heard footsteps in the corridor. Doors were unlocked: Bellman’s first, then his. One of the two guards yelled in at him. ‘Allez, debout!’ Get up!

He dragged himself to his feet and rolled his stiff neck around his shoulders. More orders were shouted in French, instructing them to return to the room at the end of the corridor. He made his way along the narrow tiled passageway and joined Kennedy and Sphyris who were already seated at a table with Brennan and Drecker. Each of them had a laptop computer. Two more were waiting for him and Bellman.

Brennan directed Holst to a seat between the other scientists. ‘Dr Razia will join us shortly.’

‘Lèves-toi!’ The angry command came from the entrance to Bellman’s room. She was evidently refusing to cooperate.

Holst glanced along the length of the corridor and saw the two guards standing in her doorway.

‘Excuse me.’ Drecker got up from her chair and made her way towards them.

‘Professor Kennedy and Dr Sphyris have already received much of their inventory as you’ll see when we show you the labs,’ Brennan said to Holst, ignoring the distraction. ‘Whatever else they require will be ordered in collaboration with you and Dr Bellman. The company is prepared to offer you an unlimited budget – within reason – so please feel free to order all that you need.’ He nodded to the laptop. ‘This is your machine. For obvious reasons there’s no internet connection, but you’ll find catalogues from all the major suppliers in the documents folder.’

There was a short, terrified scream from Sarah Bellman’s room followed by the sounds of a brief and one-sided struggle. Moments later, the two guards reappeared bringing her with them. She was dressed only in her underwear and was sobbing inconsolably. They manhandled her back along the corridor, her bare feet only grazing the floor. Drecker followed behind barking instructions in French.

Holst, Sphyris and Kennedy watched, paralysed and helpless to intervene, as the two guards forced the young woman face first against the closed steel gate inside the entrance to the building. They spread her arms and handcuffed her wrists to the bars above her head.

Drecker drew a pistol from the holster attached to her belt and touched it to Bellman’s left temple.

‘A simple choice, Dr Bellman – cooperate or save us the expense of dealing with you. There are others in your field more than capable of replicating your work.’

Finally, Bellman fell silent.

‘She’s more trouble than she’s worth,’ Brennan said casually. ‘Get rid of her.’

‘No!’ Bellman’s desperate cry echoed off the bare walls.

Drecker pressed the barrel of the gun against her skull.

Holst looked away as she squeezed the trigger.

There was a harmless click.

Holst glanced back to see that Bellman had collapsed at the knees and fallen into a dead faint, leaving her body hanging by the wrists. Her legs were fouled and urine had pooled at her feet. The sight turned his stomach. She reminded him of one of his dead experimental animals.