Lafont followed him back to his office. ‘Sorry about that,’ she said, as de Payns secured two files in his safe. ‘If you have a better way to Timberwolf and the MERC, I’ll listen. But Mattieu hasn’t been in the field for five years—on something this sensitive, he’d absolutely screw it up.’
‘I’ll do it,’ said de Payns, sagging back in his chair. ‘It’s okay.’
‘It’s not okay,’ said Lafont. ‘I did this when I was single. You’re married with kids.’
De Payns opened his hands at her. ‘Any ideas?’
‘You could try some hot and heavy kissing and then pull away, tell her you have an admission to make—you’re married and now you’re torn between the lust you have for her and the vows you made to your wife?’
De Payns scoffed. ‘You kidding me? That works?’
‘If you want her to pull you in, not push you away—yes, it could work.’
‘Or she thinks I’m a married sleaze, having an affair …’
Briffaut appeared in the doorway. ‘Frasier’s called an emergency meeting for Alamut. We’ll take my car.’
There were five of them in the smallest of the executive SCIFs, on the top floor of the Cat. De Payns and Briffaut, and Lafont and her chemicals genius, Josef Ackermann, also from the CP division. Frasier sat at the head of the table, in a hurry as usual.
‘As some of you know, I’ve delayed issuing the final report on Operation Falcon because, candidly, I wanted more details,’ said Frasier. ‘That’s no reflection on Aguilar or his team—we had to pull the plug and I guess we weren’t hanging around interviewing people.’
Frasier caught his eye and de Payns nodded.
‘So five days ago I tasked Shrek to go to Sicily, retrace what we know and see what else might present itself. Well, Shrek got back from Sicily yesterday, and along with his report he had some samples.’
Frasier distributed a brief report featuring photographs of pale granular items on dark backgrounds. De Payns flipped the pages and saw wide-angle shots inside old warehouses and a square drain covered with an iron grille.
‘He backtracked Commodore’s movements—and, we think, Murad’s—to a warehouse behind the Palermo docks. The warehouse was abandoned but he took samples of some unusual granules in a drain,’ said Frasier. ‘They’re mainly chlorine but with very faint traces of Clostridium perfringens on them. Our lab says they match with the Afghan village samples, so they’re the manipulated …’ He glanced at the CP pair for help.
Ackermann obliged. ‘Epsilon toxin type D, sir.’
‘Afghanistan?’ asked de Payns, slightly stunned by the Palermo connection. ‘What’s this got to do with Afghanistan?’
Frasier handed over to Ackermann, who said the samples had been tested six times. ‘Every test has come up with the same result. The chlorine samples are now sealed in an infectious diseases vault, but I can confirm they’ve been exposed to a virulent strain of Clostridium perfringens that is not consistent with natural formations.’
‘Which means?’ prompted Briffaut.
‘It means it’s been enhanced, manipulated,’ said Ackermann. ‘These samples are the epsilon toxin, which occurs naturally in goats but is death to us—humans have no defences. It turns our insides to mush and results in gas gangrene.’
Briffaut stared at the anxious scientist. When he became serious his large physique seemed to expand. ‘It was found in Palermo? What the hell has Operation Falcon got to do with this gangrene bioweapon?’ He turned to de Payns. ‘Tell me—how does a fake passport operation get its hands on a bioweapon?’
De Payns shrugged. ‘I have no information that connects Commodore with something like this. He was a useful idiot who sold fake identities to terrorists, that’s it.’
Briffaut asked, ‘Do we know who made this toxin?’
Ackermann shrugged and Lafont stepped in. ‘Only a handful of countries have ever developed ETX as a weapon. The Russians and South Africans stopped their programs in the eighties, and the North Koreans have developed it in the past but they’re now focused on nukes. That leaves Pakistan and Iran, but Iran’s programs are predominantly sarin and ricin, and they’re also throwing their resources into nukes.’
Briffaut nodded. ‘So we’re back to Pakistan? That means the MERC?’
Lafont continued. ‘Can’t confirm, but most likely. That’s certainly where Russian intelligence is looking.’
Frasier looked from one face to another. ‘So we are fairly certain there’s a bioweapons program at the MERC in Pakistan and the Russians think it’s clostridium. We’ve got weaponised clostridium testing in an Afghani village, and now we have weaponised clostridium confirmed in Europe—the same strain we found in Afghanistan.’
‘How do they use it?’ asked de Payns.
‘It seems to be optimised for water,’ said Ackermann. ‘The lab people need some outside help, because they say the epsilon toxin type D strain they can identify has itself been modified.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘We’re finding out.’
‘Looks like the game just got bigger,’ said Briffaut, looking at Frasier. ‘Any theories?’
Frasier started gathering his papers. ‘That warehouse was cleaned out the day before Shrek arrived. So whatever was there is now somewhere else.’ He pointed at de Payns. ‘We’re on a clock—find me some answers.’