Carrion Virus (Book 2): The Athena Protocol Read Online Free

be the one who authorised the opening of the containment tank in the basement. All part of some elaborate forgery. There were possible answers, but none would he speculate out loud. The reality could be too much to contemplate.
    Ben Williamson ceased any possibility of prosecution when Holden agreed to join Black Aquila. He was the world’s expert on the outbreak of the Carrion Virus. Better to have him working than locked up, was something Williamson obviously believed. Better for Holden to be working than locked up, is something Holden believed.
    Holden stood in front of what was his workplace. From the outside, it offered the appearance of a large warehouse at the heart of a sizeable industrial complex. He never saw anyone else other than Black Aquila operatives and the few medical staff seconded to him. His residence was a small cottage on the edge of the woods. The trip to work each morning was a short ride in a blacked-out Land Rover.
    Williamson promised that in time he would have the data needed to clear his name. At least someone believed him.
    Dr. Holden poured the last dribble of his coffee into the snow at his feet.
    Or maybe Williamson doesn’t believe me .
    “You’re getting too cynical, Eugene,” he said to the storm raging around him.
    From behind, someone cleared his throat. Holden turned.
    Hyde, the man appointed to Holden as his official liaison with Ben Williamson, tapped at a watch. A squat man with a wide chest, blinked the snow from his eyes. Holden thought of him as his jailer more than anything.
    “We’ve much work to be getting on with.”
    Holden pulled his glasses from his forehead. The snow was falling in the forecourt of the complex. It was nice to be outside for a little while.
    “Very well. Lead on.”
     
    ***

 
    Chapter Two
    Deleted Horizons
     
    Eric stomped his feet into the slush and clicked off the satellite telephone. Regular communications down, out in the cold was the only way of making contact. And it was colder than cold. Task completed, he returned to the relative warmth of the hotel, the one Black Aquila used as headquarters, and handed the telephone to the next waiting operative.
    Eric shook the snow from his shoulders and headed up to his room. The lobby of the hotel was never quiet. People hurried about every hour of the day. Eric laboured up the stairs, his arms and legs fatigued from trudging through the snow. The death of Rozek hit him hard. Didn’t they all? The outbreak had killed so many. And many more were bound to die. He needed sleep, but did not look forward to the nightmares that played movie reels of all the lost men.
    At the top of the stairs, at the landing, two women were on haunches cleaning the carpet. Eric looked to his boots and stepped past with a nod of apology. Neither paid him much attention. He guessed it was a never-ending task and wondered about the arrangement for hotel staff. Were their services given in exchange for not being moved into a displacement centre? Eric unlocked his door with a swipe of his keycard.
    “Eric?”
    Ben Williamson.
    “Eric. Good to see you returned safely.”
    Williamson stretched out a hand. His eyes went to Eric’s own, cracked and filthy, tainted with dried blood. He withdrew the gesture. “Your hands. Blood.”
    “Do you think I’d be wandering around here if it was blood from an infected?” Eric said sharply. He was too tired to deal with stupidity. Eric would never risk spreading the infection.
    “No. I suppose not. But I’ll wait for you to get cleaned up.”
    Williamson followed Eric into the room, and sat on a small sofa in the corner. Eric unzipped his tac vest and removed his coat. He went to the bathroom, switched on the light and ran hot water into the sink. He washed the filth from his hands and face, the warm water going some way to reviving his depleted spirit. He dried himself with a towel before returning to the room.
    “I can tell by your face it was bad out there tonight.”
    “It’s