Cobb and McNutt stripped the dead guard of his jacket, pants, and tunic in seconds — the garroting shadow slipping the outfit on in the same amount of time.
Leaving his rifle and automatic with Cobb, McNutt took the Ruger Mark III and held it low to his side so it blended in with his new pants. He calmly and silently walked out of the woods in the direction that the patrolling Black Robe had come, and sauntered purposefully toward the Black Robe who was resting on the ground.
Without attempting conversation, he simply sat next to the napping guard. The moment that the guard’s body blocked the other guards’ view, McNutt snaked the Ruger over so the suppressor’s end was a millimeter away from the man’s upper ear. McNutt coughed and pulled the trigger at the same time.
The dead guard turned his head, seemingly by himself — the small, 22 caliber round remaining within his skull. McNutt had fired at an angle that sent the spray of blood and tissue up and away from the man’s tunic. They needed three more robes, and it wouldn’t do to have bloodstains on their outfits, even if black robes covered it well.
‘Be healthy,’ said the guard nearest McNutt.
Dobrev knew it was the customary Russian reaction to a sneeze: the equivalent to ‘gesundheit’. McNutt didn’t know that, but he didn’t need to. He just quietly mimicked the cough of the firearm as he got up and approached the well-wisher.
The third guard smiled and muttered something in Russian, apparently suggesting McNutt might be better off with a cigarette than with fresh air. McNutt passed, head down, and leaned on the side of the engine beside him with one arm, chuckling. A little laugh was a good response to just about anything that was said in a lighthearted voice. As soon as the third guard called over to the ‘resting’ guard to get up, McNutt placed the Ruger beside the man’s temple. His head snapped hard to the opposite side and then back — a muscle reflex — as McNutt jumped aside to avoid the blood.
The moment the third guard went down, the fourth guard’s head opened like a blossoming flower on the other side of the engine, courtesy of the Val that was now in Cobb’s hand. As soon as they had three unstained outfits, it didn’t matter how bloody the fourth one was — and it was soaked, as the nine-millimeter subsonic bullet drilled right through the man’s brain and emerged from the other side, taking half his skull with it.
The final sound was the gentle clatter of a rifle hitting the ground as the fourth guard fell. Only the moon, stars, trees, and grass saw two more human shapes emerge from the wood and start dressing in the clothes taken from the fallen guards.
Holding a Val assault rifle in one hand and wearing his new disguise, McNutt moved silently alongside the length of the train and pulled himself up into the cab of the engine. He didn’t expect it to be empty, and it wasn’t. There was another Black Robe, peacefully sleeping against the wall. He put the end of the Ruger a hair from the bottom of the sleeping man’s skull and pulled the trigger.
‘Sweet dreams,’ he mouthed silently.
McNutt moved the body to the back of the cab, out of their way, as Cobb helped Dobrev inside. If Dobrev was bothered by the presence of the dead man, he did not show it.
Heading for the back of the sleeping compartment car, McNutt heard talking. With the train engine off there were no compartment lights available, and the remaining guards were obviously conserving whatever battery power they had.
In fact, based on the cursing he heard and the gestures he saw when he peeked through the window between the cars, it looked as though their hacker even had to cut his work short when his PC battery ran low. Without their own satellite, there was no cell phone communication. No one had thought to build towers this deep in the middle of nowhere. Only their leader had a direct connection to his headquarters: a radio using non-digital technology.
Cobb stopped behind McNutt. They slowed as they neared the rear of the train, wary of any sentry. There was one, sitting on the lip of the door, his legs dangling above the track. He was casually holding an AK-47, looking out on the southern tree line. He seemed noncommittal, as if he wasn’t guarding anything or watching for anyone — just resting while thinking of home.
From the safety of the empty adjoining car, McNutt conveyed his thoughts on the situation. ‘Everyone’s just sitting around. Like they’re waiting for Rasputin.’
‘They probably are,’ Jasmine whispered in their ears.
With that, McNutt took three silent steps across the junction that linked the two cars, aimed his rifle at the base of the Black Robe’s head, and squeezed the trigger.
‘Go,’ McNutt said quietly as he leaped onto the ladder on the side of the freight car.
Cobb heard him in the doorway between the engine and the command center. He turned and saw Dobrev waiting tensely in the doorway of the cab, a dead body on the floor behind him.
Cobb gave Dobrev the thumbs-up. Dobrev turned, stepped over the corpse, gripped the end of the ignition key, and twisted it.
Ludmilla roared to life.
60
The entire, shuddering train seemed to come alive as the turnover of the engine began to power the generator, causing all the lights to flicker.
From his position on top of the train, McNutt saw silhouettes stirring in the freight car, and Cobb could hear activity in the command center from his station in the cab.
‘We’ve got about one minute to button things up,’ Cobb said, knowing that Dobrev would need time for the engine to warm up.
Black Robes poured from the freight car across the flatbed. McNutt let the first man almost reach the far door of the command center before he pumped a round into the back of his head.
The five other Black Robes barely had time to assess the situation when McNutt began picking them off one by one, going from front to back, shifting his Val by just centimeters, his steel grip unfazed by the vibration of the train.
The last of the six to emerge was the only Black Robe who had time to spin around to see McNutt standing on the roof of the freight car. It was the last thing he ever saw. McNutt took him down with a subsonic round between the eyes, then quickly surveyed the area. From this vantage point, he could not only cover the armory and the flatbed car but also see the terrain around the train. He was ready to mow down any that tried to get outside.
Similarly, back in the engine compartment, Cobb let the Black Robes from the command center nearly make it to the door of the engine before bringing them down with one or two shots from the silenced Uzi. Its coughs were completely swallowed by Ludmilla’s moans as her wheels spun for traction on the cold rails.
The first Black Robe who tried to come into the engine compartment went down. The one behind him nearly tripped over the body before joining his comrade, a nine-millimeter round cracking open his skull like a hammered coconut.
Cobb heard the scrambling of a third man heading for the opposite side of the command center car, then the thud of his body hitting the flatbed floor as McNutt took him down.
The entire train jerked convulsively as Ludmilla began to move. Cobb was in motion. It was time to sweep the train for loose ends. For that, McNutt would make his way across the roof to the end of the sleeper car. Cobb would move through the command car and flatbed, and they would meet in the freight car.
Cobb moved low and fast, checking both sides of the command center entrance. The lights were still on, as were Garcia’s video screens. That meant that back in the village Garcia could see what the train’s security cams picked up. That was good. It was always nice to have fresh eyes.
‘Chief,’ McNutt whispered in his earpiece.
