Biohazard

The Institute of Ultra-Pure Biopreparations had been one of the crucial links in our network since its establishment in the early 1970s. Under Pasechnik's leadership, it had provided many of our breakthroughs in weapons production. One of its most notable contributions was a milling machine that used a powerful blast of air to turn bacterial and viral mixtures into a fine powder. Nothing like this "jet-stream" machine had ever been built before, at least so far as we knew. It was intended to replace the heavy ball-bearing mills used for decades by the Ministry of Defense and to become a standard fixture at all of our production plants.

Work was also done on new approaches to drying and micro-encapsulation — the process of covering agents in polymer capsules to preserve and protect them from ultraviolet light. Highly pathogenic agents were forbidden inside the city limits, so the focus of the institute was on developing new processes and equipment.

One of Pasechnik's most important projects was the modification of cruise missiles for the delivery of biological agents. The Leningrad scientists were asked to analyze the efficiency of aerosol clouds sprayed from a "fast-flying, low-altitude moving object" containing one or more twenty-liter canisters of liquid or dry agent. They designed a moving platform to release canisters as the missile passed over successive targets. The canisters would break apart on impact with the air.

Cruise missiles have revolutionized warfare. With onboard electronic guidance and mapping systems that enable them to fly close to the ground and thus avoid most radar defenses, they can be launched from the air, land, or sea at great distances from their targets. Harnessing them for our use would dramatically improve the strategic effectiveness of biological warfare. Cruise missiles would require far smaller quantities of biological agents than intercontinental missiles and would do just as much damage. And they would increase our capacity for surprise. Multiwarhead intercontinental missiles can be detected by electronic surveillance minutes after they are launched. Planes can be detected by ground observers, giving civil defense and medical teams time to ascertain that an attack has occurred, determine what kind of agent was used, and mobilize for treatment. A cruise missile would offer little advance warning.

This research continued through my final years at Biopreparat. I do not know what came of it.

If Pasechnik's midlife crisis had driven him to defect, Biopreparat had lost a genuine scientific pioneer — and some of our most delicate secrets were in danger of being exposed to the outside world. In the fifteen years of its existence, not one scientist or technician had ever defected from the agency.

I told Frolov not to say a thing and dialed the extension number for Savva Yermoshin, our KGB chief.

"Savva," I said, "we've got a problem."

"You always have problems," he laughed.

"I think Pasechnik has defected."

There was a dead silence on the other end of the line. Then one word. "Shit."

"We'd better see Kalinin at once," he added, after another long pause.

"That's why I called you. I want you to help me break the news."

Kalinin was talking with Valery Bykov, the minister of medical industry, when we walked in.

I don't remember whether Yermoshin or I spoke first, but I remember the look that passed between Kalinin and Bykov. It was as it they'd just heard about the death of a close relative.

I told them quickly what Frolov had told me. Kalinin spoke first. "Who gave him permission to go?" "I did," I said. "But I told you about it." Shortly after Pasechnik's initial request, I had informed Kalinin of the invitation from the French company. I had full authority to grant permission for such trips, but Kalinin had told me to keep him abreast of staff movements.

"I don't remember that," Kalinin shot back, glancing at Bykov. "You didn't tell me a thing!"

I felt an involuntary shudder. Kalinin was making it perfectly clear that I was on my own. He looked uncomfortable nonetheless. Bykov seemed suddenly to enjoy the awkward position in which his rival had been placed. A veteran of Kremlin power struggles, he knew how to take advantage of such situations.

"Who prepared the cryptogram asking Pasechnik to come back to Moscow?" he asked in his deep official voice, as if beginning an investigation.

"I did," I said. "But we sent the same message to all the directors for today's meeting." "Who signed it?"

"Smirnov," I said, naming one of Kalinin's assistants. I had given him the job of sending the notices out to directors as I'd been too busy.