Ken Alibek describes (in Biohazard) the spotless gray three-story structure at Omutninsk that had been designated as the pilot plant for tularemia:
Building 107 was structured according to the box-within-a-box principle, to keep the deadliest organisms out of the surrounding countryside. If you could lift the roof, it would resemble a Russian matryoshka doll.
[…]
The outer shell of Building 107 was Zone One. It housed the offices of administrative and security personnel and laboratories used for noninfectious organisms. Workers dressed in plain white lab coats and white pants milled in the corridors. Daylight poured through the windows, and the walls were plastered with resolutely upbeat Party banners: “Fulfill our Five-Year Plan in four years!” “Long Live the Communist Party of the Soviet Union!” It was possible to spend an entire day in Zone One without being aware of what was happening deeper inside the building.
Zone Two contained “hot” laboratories for work with pathogenic materials, storage vaults, animal cages, and giant sixteen-ton and twenty-ton fermenters, which soared to the upper levels of the building.
Zone Three, nestled inside Zone Two, displayed the fruits of our engineering efforts since 1973: rows of gleaming steel centrifuges and drying and milling machines.
Both inner zones had their own air supply system. Noisy generators pumped air through an overhead latticework of exposed pipes, keeping the atmosphere inside at pressures slightly lower than normal to prevent contaminated air from seeping into Zone One. Hydrogen peroxide was sprayed into the air from nozzles in the ceiling. The distinctive smell of that particular disinfectant will stay with me forever. It wasn’t just its smell that made an impression: for the dozen or so years I worked inside the labs, my black hair was bleached a dirty blond.