Central Iran
December 5—0902 Hours GMT+3:30
SARIE VAN KEUREN SAT in front of Zarin’s terminal listening to the endless drone of the monkeys and watching the clock march inevitably forward. She’d hoped he would come back—that she wouldn’t be left to do this alone. But she respected his desire for solitude.
It was hard to recognize herself in the reflection on the sleeping computer screen. The drawn features, dark-rimmed eyes, and dead expression seemed to belong to someone else. Someone who had wandered too far from home.
She wiped away a tear and touched the keyboard, bringing the monitor back to life. A few clicks of the mouse brought up the emergency lockdown button, and she hovered the cursor over it, thinking of Zarin and the family he was leaving behind. Of the family she would never have.
An insignificant twitch of her finger activated the alarm, overpowering the screams of the monkeys. She held her breath, resisting the urge to run. Better for it to be over quick.
But nothing happened.
Sarie turned in her chair and examined the closed door leading to the hallway. It should have automatically opened and the deadbolt should have extended. Confused, she clicked the button again. The alarm kept droning, but the door stayed closed and the monkeys remained safely in their cages.
The screen flickered and went blank for a moment, finally reverting to the log-in page. She typed in Zarin’s password and was trying to access the facility’s schematic when the door behind her finally opened.
The computer wasn’t responsible, though, and she jumped to her feet as three men with machine guns burst in. Omidi followed a moment later, dragging Yousef Zarin along behind him. The academic’s right leg was broken and it gave way when Omidi let go, leaving him bleeding and confused on the tile floor.
“Do you think I wasn’t watching you?” Omidi screamed. “Do you think I didn’t read the report Zarin wrote about this place?”
“I…,” Sarie stammered. “I thought one of the cage locks was defective. That—”
The Iranian rushed her, slamming an open hand into the side of her face hard enough to knock her to the ground. “We have people monitoring the computers! We saw him rewriting the security subroutines. Now tell me what you’ve done!”
Sarie shook her head violently, trying to clear it. Zarin hadn’t talked. He’d managed to hold out despite the torture he’d endured.
“I… I infected the rest of the lab animals,” she said, sticking to the obvious. “We—”
“I know that,” Omidi said, aiming his pistol at Zarin. “You’ve been working day and night with the parasite. Tell me what you’ve done to it!”
“Nothing!”
Omidi pressed the barrel of his gun into the back of the injured scientist’s head. “Tell me or he dies!”
“That’s what I did—nothing!” Sarie said, being careful not to give away anything his believers couldn’t easily figure out on their own. “I haven’t really sped up the time to full symptoms; I’ve just been infecting the animals with larger and larger loads.”
“The great Sarie van Keuren could think of nothing better than that?” he said, curling a finger around the pistol’s trigger. “Give me the truth! Now!”
It was over. One last diversion that might save a tiny handful of lives was all that she had left. “Okay! Don’t hurt him. I was selecting for parasites that attack the corneas to add blindness to the symptomatology.”
She jerked at the sound of the gun, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the blood and brain matter splashing across her.
“You will show our scientist exactly how you have sabotaged the parasite and how to repair the damage,” Omidi said, redirecting his aim to her.
Sarie stared down at the scientist’s body, no longer feeling fear. No longer feeling anything. Finally, she just raised her hand and extended her middle finger.