Clay paced back to where Cobra stood with Doctor Grasson, shoved the muzzle of the handgun Cobra had given him into Grasson’s mouth and pushed his head back.
Grasson gagged, choking on the metal.
‘Keys,’ barked Clay. ‘Now. Or believe me, it will be my pleasure to blow your head off.’
Grasson reached into his pocket and withdrew a heavy ring of keys.
Clay grabbed the keys and held them up in front of Grasson’s face. ‘Which one?’
Grasson reached up and touched a large key with a red plastic rim on the bow. His hand was trembling.
‘Take off that lab coat.’
Grasson complied. Clay grabbed the coat, pulled the gun out of Grasson’s mouth and pushed him back hard with a palm to the solar plexus.
‘What are you doing?’ said Cobra.
‘I’m going to let those people go.’
‘You can’t do that, Straker,’ said Cobra, moving so that he was now standing between Clay and Brigade’s cage. ‘Let them go and my cover is blown, broer. I won’t last a week. We still have a chance of getting out of here, if we go now.’ Cobra glanced at Vivian. ‘I’m not going to be able to help anyone if I’m dead.’
Vivian frowned, let go of Clay’s arm. ‘He’s right, Clay,’ she said.
‘We have to do something, Vivian,’ said Clay. ‘We can’t just leave them here.’
‘You’ll start an epidemic,’ she said. He could barely hear her over the clamour.
‘I don’t believe a word that asshole says. That’s exactly what he told me over the Atlantic. That those men all had cholera. It was complete bullshit.’
‘You’re not thinking straight,’ said Cobra. ‘Even if they’re not infected, how are we going to get them out? We don’t have room in the vehicle. The guards aren’t just going to let us walk out with them. They’ll be killed before they get five steps out the front door. And so will we.’
‘He’s right,’ said Vivian. She grabbed his hand. ‘Come on.’
‘One of my brothers is in there,’ said Clay. ‘I’m not leaving without him.’
‘What the fok are you talking about?’ said Cobra.
‘Brigade. A 32-Bat scout. A friend. He’s here.’
‘This is bullshit,’ said Cobra, glancing at Grasson. ‘We have to go now. Stick to the plan, Straker.’
‘Straker.’ Brigade calling to him again, his name so clear against the shrill background, an island rising out of a storm-lashed sea. ‘Straker, don’t leave me.’
Vivian took Clay’s arm and hugged it to her chest. ‘Clay, please. Don’t.’
Clay peeled away her fingers. Then he turned and ran to the cell. He’d just put the key into the lock when Brigade’s hand reached through the bars and grabbed his and pulled him towards the bars.
‘Straker,’ Brigade whispered, his lips close to Clay’s face. ‘That man.’
‘The doctor.’
‘No. The other one.’
‘He’s with us.’
‘No, Straker. Not.’
‘Get back. Let me open the door.’
Brigade held fast, stopped Clay from turning the key.
‘He’s bad.’
‘He was pretending. He’s with us.’
‘No. I’ve seen him. Here.’
Clay pushed the gun into the waistband of his trousers, and with his free hand pried Brigade’s fingers away from the key. ‘I don’t have time to explain,’ he said. He opened the cell door, handed Brigade the lab coat.
‘What about them?’ said Brigade, motioning towards the other cages.
‘Come on,’ Clay said, turning away and starting back towards the others.
If Cobra knew Brigade, he gave no sign of it. ‘Fucking amateurs,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘You think we can just walk back out of here, with one more body than we came in with?’
‘What are we going to do?’ said Vivian.
‘Change of plan,’ said Clay, levelling his pistol at Grasson. ‘The doctor here is going to call the night clerk and authorise a special shipment. He’s going to authorise us to take one black subject out with us, to be delivered to another laboratory.’
Cobra glanced at Clay and nodded. Then he jabbed his gun into Grasson’s side, started pushing him towards the door. ‘Okay Straker. I’ll take him to his office. He can make the call from there. You three meet me at the back door where we came in. Two minutes. And make it look good. Tie the black’s hands. Straker you will have to be on the stretcher again.’
They started towards the door. Thirty-eight voices, man and beast, screamed in desperation as they left. And then the lights were out and Clay and Brigade and Vivian were walking back along the night-lit corridor and through the double doors into the east wing.
They retrieved the stretcher from the examination room where they’d left it, reaching the back door a moment later. Clay looked out through the window, across the floodlit tarmac towards the rear gate. The compound was quiet, the ambulance parked where they’d left it. There was no sign of the guards.
Clay pulled a lace from one of his shoes. ‘Turn around,’ he said to Brigade.
Brigade held out his wrists. ‘Thank you,’ he said.
Clay tied Brigade’s wrists tight, then lay on the stretcher and pulled the blanket up to his neck.
‘Do not trust him,’ said Brigade, looking down the corridor.
‘He’s good,’ said Vivian. ‘He is Torch Commando. Just like me.’
Brigade shook his head. ‘No.’
Just then, Cobra appeared at the end of the hall. His gait was steady, even, empty-handed and powerful. ‘Okay,’ he breathed as he reached them. ‘Here’s what we’re going to do. Grasson has kindly initiated quarantine protocol for the receiving area of the facility. The clerk and the guards have moved to the safe area at the front of the complex. I’ve disabled the exterior cameras, and I have the codes to unlock the rear gate. Forget about the stretcher, Straker.’ He looked at Vivian, his pale eyes flat and expressionless. ‘Ready, Doctor?’
She nodded. ‘What about Grasson?’
Cobra held her gaze. ‘What about him?’
‘What did you do?’
‘Me? Nothing.’
‘What do you mean?’ she said.
Cobra stared at Brigade a moment. ‘He was killed by a lone black prisoner who subsequently escaped.’
Clay could have sworn he saw Vivian’s eyes light up.