Prototype

Prototype Cover Title Page Dedication ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTY-ONE TWENTY-TWO TWENTY-THREE TWENTY-FOUR TWENTY-FIVE TWENTY-SIX TWENTY-SEVEN TWENTY-EIGHT TWENTY-NINE THIRTY THIRTY-ONE THIRTY-TWO THIRTY-THREE THIRTY-FOUR THIRTY-FIVE THIRTY-SIX THIRTY-SEVEN THIRTY-EIGHT THIRTY-NINE FORTY FORTY-ONE FORTY-TWO FORTY-THREE FORTY-FOUR FORTY-FIVE FORTY-SIX FORTY-SEVEN FORTY-EIGHT FORTY-NINE Acknowledgements About the Author Also by Jason Dean Copyright Cover Table of Contents Start of Content Dedication For Jeevan Rai, fellow film aficionado ONE ‘Do you know what’s about to happen to you, Darian?’ the man with the small eyes asked. ‘Specifically, I mean?’ Darian Yanev shook his head in mute terror. It was the only part of his body he could move. Naked from the waist up, his arms, torso and legs were strapped tightly to a steel gurney that was angled slightly downwards, with his head at the lower end. Underneath his head was a large plastic bucket, full of water. Yanev’s puffy face was still bleeding from the beating he’d just taken, the left eye swollen up until it was almost completely shut, while a kaleidoscope of bruises covered his chest and stomach area. ‘Well, I’ll tell you,’ his interrogator said, grabbing a thin towel from a nearby table. Another older man, dressed in a dark, expensive three-piece suit, stood in one corner or the small, windowless room, watching the proceedings. ‘First thing we do is place this damp towel over your face, and then I fill that jug over there with water and slowly pour it over your nose and mouth. You’ll try holding your breath, but adrenaline will take over and your heart will be pumping a mile a minute, so you’ll be forced to let it out, and then when you inhale you’ll be taking in pure H20. The wet towel will clamp tight against your nostrils and mouth, and you’ll choke uncontrollably. You’ll get spasms in your larynx and won’t even know if you’re breathing in or out, which will feed your panic even more.’ ‘Please…’ Yanev began. ‘Now they say waterboarding simulates the effects of drowning, but that’s wrong. You actually are drowning. With your medical background you must know how painful that is, with your lungs heaving violently as they try to take in oxygen that’s no longer there. So my question is, are you really going to force us to go through with this, or can we just cut straight to the part where you give us what we want?’ Yanev’s breathing was becoming short now. He also looked terrified. ‘My pills…’ he mumbled in a thick voice. ‘That’s right, Darian,’ the other man said. ‘Just give us the formula for those pills of yours and all this will be over in seconds. We’ll untie you and treat your wounds, and then we’ll draft up a legal agreement whereby we can all profit from this. I’m a fair man, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted, so why not make it easier for yourself and just tell us?’ ‘My pills,’ Yanev said again. He took a deep breath, and swallowed. ‘My pills…’ ‘Christ, this is useless.’ The older man gave a weary sigh. ‘Okay, get on with it.’ ‘Yes, sir,’ the first man said, and carefully arranged the damp towel over Yanev’s face until it was completely covered. Yanev whimpered helplessly underneath, his breath still coming in short rapid gasps, while the interrogator grabbed the empty jug from the table and filled it with water from the bucket on the floor. Then he raised the jug eight inches above the man’s head and began to pour. The effects were immediate. As soon as the liquid made contact with the man’s nasal cavity, Yanev’s chest hitched violently and he arched his body off the gurney as far as it would go. He gagged and coughed and spluttered, his head twisting from side to side in a pointless effort to escape the onslaught, while the other man continued pouring water onto the shroud over his face. As the seconds passed, Yanev’s struggling became more strenuous, and his hacking more violent. Finally, after another twenty seconds, the man in the suit said, ‘Enough.’ The first man stopped pouring, and yanked the drenched towel from Yanev’s face. His back still arched, Yanev’s chest continued to jerk and hitch as his lungs tried to take in the necessary oxygen. It took another two minutes before his breathing became even close to normal. ‘Well?’ the interrogator asked. ‘You ready to talk now?’ ‘My pills,’ Yanev said, in a hoarse voice. ‘My—’ ‘Again with this.’ The interrogator shook his head. ‘Looks like we’ll have to take another dip.’ ‘Wait.’ The other one stepped forward, leaned in closer to Yanev. ‘He keeps saying the same thing. What about these pills, Darian? Are you saying you’ve already taken the next step and synthesised some, that you’ve actually developed prototypes?’ Yanev nodded his head. He coughed again, and said, ‘Yes, but—’ ‘I knew it.’ The man in the suit turned to his subordinate with wide eyes. ‘I just knew it. The answer to all our problems and it’s right here in front of us.’ He turned back to Yanev. ‘Forget about the formula, Darian. Just tell me where you hid those pills, and this will all be over in seconds.’ ‘My pills,’ Yanev croaked. ‘Please…’ ‘Just tell me where you hid them, godammit.’ Yanev opened his mouth, as though about to speak, and then his eyes widened and his body suddenly started jerking spastically as he frantically tried to take in air again. ‘What the hell?’ the interrogator said, backing away. ‘Dammit, he’s having a coronary,’ the other one said. ‘That must be what he was talking about. His heart pills.’ He quickly patted Yanev’s trouser pockets, but found nothing. He turned to his subordinate. ‘His shirt and jacket. Where are they?’ ‘The room at the end of the hall.’ ‘Get them. Move.’ As the interrogator dashed from the room, the man in the suit held Yanev