Rachel nodded, but felt a tear track down her cheek. “Yeah.” Then she turned and smiled through her tears. “Let’s get the hell out of here before the entire block goes tip in flames.”

Sinunu pulled away from the street corner, and in the mid-September sunshine, the two of them headed for the airport.

EPILOGUE

His new offices at Zulu BioGen reeked of bleach and disinfectants. He had the top four floors of an ancient hospital, made of naked and pockmarked gray concrete. Ugly, if functional. The security was tight and he had plenty of room to set up his operation.

Oslo Wake stood up from his desk and walked to the window. Green mountains capped with snow loomed around the narrow valley. And in the distance, Old Salzburg sat like a time-preserved miniature city in a snow bubble. Only it wasn’t snowing now; the sky let forth an agonizing slow drizzle of rain.

It’s fitting that Mozart once lived here, thought Wake. The city understands genius. Understands it and accepts it.

He ran a hand over the burns covering the left side of his face and neck. He knew he was lucky to still be alive. And he wouldn’t be if his fire elemental hadn’t protected him from the blast. The escape from Hell’s Kitchen had been too close. The losses too high.

He had to replace Pakow-a man he’d groomed for greatness.

He had to replenish his forces.

He had to recover the data on the HMHVV strains. Pakows chip had contained data-viral RNA sequences and experimental results on all the strains of the virus. But that’s not all it had contained; it also held the datavault addresses and the decryption algorithms to access the backup host.

Everything had been backed up over the Matrix to a red host in the Netherlands Antilles.

I must get that data.

As Wake stared out at the birthplace of perhaps the most brilliant musical mind in history, he knew it was only a matter of time before his deckers would breach the hosts IC. Then the contents of the datavault would be restored to him.

Then he could create another like Warren D’imato. He could create an army of them.

Laughter rang out from Wake’s throat, echoing off the gray concrete walls. High-pitched laughter, edged with hysteria. With insanity.