Silent Night - By Tom Barber Page 0,39

the handle and tried to force it open. It wouldn’t budge. He made a decision and stepped back. He dipped his shoulder and hit the frame. The force overpowered the lock and the door flew open. As he stumbled into the restroom, they both saw a man slumped on the ground.

His body was limp, his head twisted at almost a right angle. Beside him was an empty box. His dead eyes stared across the room.

The waitress covered her mouth, but didn’t quite manage to stop a scream.

TWENTY

Thirty minutes later, the house off Ditmars Boulevard was filled with CSU investigators photographing the crime scene before the bodies and weapons were bagged and tagged. A preliminary search inside an unzipped holdall sitting in the kitchen had revealed the third and fourth vials of the virus. That left one to go, in the possession of the third bomber who Rach was currently working hard to find. Given Dr Flood’s unexpected suicide, the murder of Dr Tibbs and the disappearance of Dr Glover, Health Services were taking the reins on trying to work up an antidote. They had another fifty nine infected dead to work with. A two-man team from their lab had arrived at the house five minutes ago, taken the virus and left as quickly as they had arrived. Everyone inside was relieved to have found the vials, but were even more so when the virus left the house.

Shepherd, Archer, Marquez and Jorgensen were gathered in the bedroom in front of Dr Kruger, who was still sitting in the chair they’d found him in. His binds and gag had been removed and a medic was patching him up. The woman was attending to his face, clearing off the blood, using antiseptic to clean the wounds and then applying several butterfly stitches to the cuts on his cheekbones.

Standing near the door, Archer examined the doctor. He was in his late thirties or early forties and looked in good shape, blond hair and green eyes with overnight stubble on his neck and cheeks. He was wearing a blue shirt and some corduroy trousers with black shoes but the shirt was specked with blood from the injuries to his face. He looked solid; he wasn’t in shock. He wasn’t staring at the dead body visible through the doorway in the kitchen. And he was alive. That was the most important thing considering that two of his colleagues had already died this morning.

‘How are you feeling?’ Shepherd asked.

‘I’ll live,’ Kruger said.

Only two words, but Archer picked up a strong South African accent.

‘So what the hell happened?’ Shepherd asked.

‘You tell me. Last night someone knocks on my apartment door. I open up and a gun is stuck in my face. They take me downstairs, stuff me in a car and bring me here.’

‘What did they want?’

‘At first, I had no idea. I thought maybe it was kidnap, but I don’t come from a wealthy family and certainly don’t mix in high circles. No one would pay much for me.’

He nodded out of the room.

‘The fat boy took my key-card for the lab from my pocket, then left. He came back an hour later with five vials of Peter’s virus.’

He flinched as the doctor dabbed at a cut on his cheekbone.

‘When he got back he took off my binds and shoved a gun in my face. He'd brought some equipment from the lab and ordered me to use it to extract a small sample of the virus and place it in another vial, which was pressurised. He made me do it right here. They weren't taking any chances and were all wearing masks. I had to do it without. Then I saw them start soldering together those things.’

He nodded to the bed.

The team saw a shoebox containing a timer and rack for the vial. A carbon copy of the other bombs.

‘It didn’t take a genius to work out they were planning some sort of atrocity. Once I was done, the leader took the package with the smallest amount of the virus I transferred for him and was out for a while. He didn’t come back with it.’

‘It detonated in Central Park,’ Marquez said. ‘Killed a man.’

Kruger stared at her but didn’t respond. The doctor went to unbutton his shirt and check his torso for injuries but he caught her hands. ‘I’m fine, doc. It’s just my face.’ He seemed resolute and tough. Archer liked him already.

At the door behind them, Josh ducked his head into the room. ‘Sir?’