Robin Cook - Vector

“Okay,” Yuri said. “I don’t come anymore.”

“Aren’t you going to invite us in?” Curt asked.

Yuri glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Connie’s bedroom. The door was ajar. “Yeah, okay, sure.” He stepped out of the way and gestured for Curt and Steve to enter. After closing the door he guided his visitors toward the living area, where there was a low, threadbare couch and two straight-back chairs. He gathered up a collection of newspapers from the sofa cushion and deposited them on the floor.

Curt sat on the couch, with his knees jutting up into the air. Steve balanced his muscled bulk on one of the chairs.

“Can I offer you guys some iced vodka?” Yuri asked.

“I’ll have a beer,” Curt said.

“Same,” Steve said.

“Sorry,” Yuri said. “I only have vodka.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Vodka it is,” Curt said.

While Yuri went to the refrigerator for the drinks Steve leaned over and whispered: “Now you see why I’m concerned. The guy’s a dimwit. It never dawned on him not to come to the firehouse. It didn’t even enter his mind.”

“Take it easy,” Curt said. “He doesn’t have a military background. We should’ve known to be more explicit with a nonprofessional. We’ve got to cut him a little slack. Besides, let’s not forget, he’s doing us one hell of a favor getting us a bioweapon.”

“If he comes through,” Steve said.

A sound of a toilet flushing in the background drifted into the living room from Connie’s open bedroom door. Curt’s brow furrowed. “Did I just hear a goddamned toilet?”

“It’s a toilet all right,” Steve said. “But I’m not sure where it’s coming from. These houses are so damn close, maybe it’s coming from next door.”

Yuri returned to the living room clutching a triangle of three tumblers each half-filled with ice-cold vodka. “I got good news for you guys,” he said as he deposited the glasses on the coffee table then handed them out.

“We just heard a toilet,” Curt said. He took the drink. “It sounded like it might have come from this house.”

“Probably,” Yuri said with a disgusted shrug. “My wife, Connie, is in the other room.”

Curt and Steve exchanged an anxious glance.

“The reason I stopped by the firehouse...” Yuri began.

“Wait a second!” Curt interrupted. “You never said you were married.”

“Why should I have?” Yuri said. He looked from Steve to Curt. He could tell they were as uneasy about his marital status as they were about his visiting the firehouse.

“You told us you were alone,” Curt said irritably. “You said you didn’t have any friends.”

“That’s true,” Yuri said. “I am alone, without friends.”

“Yet you have a wife in the other room,” Curt said. He looked at Steve, who rolled his eyes in disbelief.

“There’s an expression in English,” Yuri said, “about ships passing in the night. We have the same expression in Russian. That’s me and Connie: two ships in the night. We never talk. Hell, we rarely even see each other.”

Curt rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his temples. He couldn’t believe he was learning all this now, not after all their planning. It gave him a headache.

“Do you think your wife can hear what we’re saying out here?” Steve questioned.

“I doubt it,” Yuri said. “Besides, she couldn’t care less what we’re saying. She just eats and watches television.”

“I don’t hear a television,” Steve said.

“Yeah, because I just broke it,” Yuri said. “It was driving me crazy. All that fake laughter suggesting life here in America is so funny and wonderful.”

“Maybe you should at least close the door,” Curt said through clenched teeth.

“All right, sure,” Yuri said. He went to the door.

“Now maybe you understand what I’ve been talking about,” Steve whispered. “I’m telling you, this guy is a kook!”

“Shut up,” Curt responded.

Yuri returned to his chair and took a slug from his vodka.

“Does your wife know what you did for a living in the Soviet Union?” Curt demanded in a lowered voice. He was afraid to hear the answer and winced when Yuri responded in the affirmative.

“What about your lab?” Steve questioned. “Does she know about the lab you’ve supposedly built in the basement?”

“What do you mean, supposedly?” Yuri asked. He was offended by the implication.

“We’ve never seen it,” Steve said. “We’ve never seen anything, after all the effort we’ve expended getting all the stuff you say you’ve needed.”

“You could have seen it any time you wanted,” Yuri said indignantly.

“All right, settle down,” Curt said. “Let’s not argue. But maybe we should take a look at the lab, just for reassurance. We all have a lot riding on this operation.”

“Fine by me,” Yuri said. He stood up, put his drink down, and led the way over to the basement door.

The group trooped down in single file. Yuri pulled the outer door open by its sprung hasp.

“What happened to the lock?” Curt asked.

“My wife pried it off this afternoon,” Yuri admitted. “I’d warned her not to come down here, and she didn’t, until today. She came down here a couple of hours ago and used a crowbar to break in. But she didn’t touch anything. I’m sure of that.”

“Why today?” Curt asked while trying to maintain his composure. He didn’t like the sound of any of this, and it kept getting worse.

“She said she just got curious,” Yuri said. “Which doesn’t make sense, since I told her I’d kill her if she came down here and messed with anything.”

“We might have to do just that,” Curt said.

“You mean actually kill her?” Yuri asked.

For a moment no one spoke. Curt finally nodded. “It’s possible. As I said, this is an important operation for all of us. Maybe the most important thing all of us are going to do in our lifetime. To give you an idea of how strongly I feel, over the weekend it came to my attention that the People’s Aryan Army had an infiltrator. His name was Brad Cassidy. Today Brad Cassidy is no longer with us, and his body is missing some of his favorite parts.”

“Your wife is a monumental security risk,” Steve explained. “Does she know what you’re doing down here?”

“She thought it was a distillery until today,” Yuri said.

“Which means she no longer thinks it’s a still,” Curt said.

“That’s right,” Yuri admitted.

“That’s too bad,” Curt said. “Since she knows you were involved in the Soviet bioweapons industry, it wouldn’t be hard for her to figure it out.”

“Let’s see the lab,” Steve said.

Yuri stepped into the entry room followed closely by Curt and then Steve.

“Do you use that class A hazmat suit we got for you?” Curt asked. He nodded at the protective gear hanging on its peg.

“Absolutely,” Yuri said. “Every second I’m in the lab I’m in the suit. I don’t take any chances. When I open this inner door, don’t go in! I’d also advise you to hold your breath just to be on the safe side. You’ll feel the breeze of the air flow into the room.”

Both Curt and Steve nodded. Now that they were so close, both wondered if it was really necessary to look inside. The mere idea of the possible presence of an invisible, fatal biological agent gave them gooseflesh, and with what they had seen already, they were more than willing to believe that Yuri was holding up his side of the bargain. But before either could say as much, Yuri cracked the inner door and stepped to the side. Warily, the two firefighters leaned forward and caught a glimpse of the fermenters and other equipment.