68
The treeline served their purpose well. Keeping at least three trees from the edge of the forest, they had been able to dig into their two observation posts unseen from the hotel.
Rechencovitch was seething. His orders had been to capture or kill Natalia Grekov, and he would. But he wanted the man who had bested his men. Humiliated them. He wasn’t sure if the same man had killed one of his own at the ridge, but he would find out and kill that person, too.
He could see activity on the third-floor. Through his binoculars, he could see a man and a woman peering out of various windows. They were not professional in their approach. On the second floor, he could see movement. A slender-looking man with combed brown hair and a woman with a dark bob and rectangular spectacles were standing further back from the windows. He could see they were on a route. Covering many windows, returning every few minutes. Occasionally, he caught a glimpse of dirty-blonde hair. Long, in a ponytail, but he could never quite make out the woman’s build or features.
It was evident that they knew they were coming for them. Which suited the Russian warrior. He liked his enemy under duress. When the time came, they would not be ready for the onslaught. Rechencovitch had his rocket and mortar specialist holed up at the edge of the clearing. He was out of sight from the hotel, had a clear line of sight and trajectory and would be able to rain down terror onto the hotel at his command. The specialist had ten 40mm mortars at his disposal, enough to bring most of the hotel down. He also carried rocket propelled grenade launcher, or RPG. Another ten 40mm rockets loaded with a variety of ordnance from anti-personnel rounds like shrapnel and fleshettes through to phosphorus to provide smoke for an attack or to take cover and fall back behind. Frankly, they didn’t stand a chance.
Spare kit and clothing had been used up and weapons redistributed. The dead man’s assault rifle replaced the one taken by the Englishman, and the sniper had been given the dead man’s pistol. Two pistols and an assault rifle had been taken from them, along with vital ammunition, but they had enough firepower between them to wage war on this place. And that was exactly what they were going to do.
The Colonel had finished looking at every window. He could still see the man and woman on the top floor. They were too obvious to have training. He doubted he could take them both out from here with his assault rifle, but once the shells started to drop and he closed his distance under covering fire, he was sure both could be taken out efficiently. He frowned, feeling the vibration of his phone in his pocket. He looked at the screen and studied the text. A short message followed by a number. He let go of the binoculars around his neck, pressed the highlighted number feeling a rush of adrenalin as it was answered.
69
Caroline checked every floor. Both the waitress and the chef were peering out of the windows on the third floor. She nodded to Rashid, who had pulled out a sideboard and was using it as a bench rest for the rifle. He had set up similar rests in two other rooms and could now fire from three sides of the building. The SAS trained sniper had spread pillows on each sideboard to steady his aim and positioned the pieces of furniture several metres back into the room, so he could use the rifle without the barrel being in view, or the subsequent muzzle flash becoming visible from outside should he have to take more than one shot. Caroline had tried not to snigger at Rashid’s hair but had failed. Rashid had flipped a middle finger and turned back to survey outside through the sight of the rifle. As she had walked back along the corridor, she told the waitress and the chef to stand further back from the windows. They nodded, but she could see from their expressions that they were well outside their comfort zones.
She found King in the lobby. He looked at her and the two shared a moment, like a couple at a party neither wanted to be at any longer but had managed to shake off their friends long enough to sneak a quiet word or a kiss.
“Huss is no longer in his quarters,” Caroline said. “I’ve just checked, and he’s gone. I locked him in, but I suppose it wasn’t a stretch to have spare keys hidden somewhere.”
“I suspected as much,” King said.
“Somebody may have released him.”
“I think that’s a given.”
“But who?”
“Were the waitress and chef upstairs the whole time?”
“Yes. I think so. On the third floor, a roving patrol checking out of the windows.”
“And the manager?”
“I passed him on the stairs. He is armed with a can of bear spray and has been guarding the stairwells. He’s joining Marnie and Ramsay on the second floor. And then there’s the two Russian workers. There’s no knowing where they are,” she paused. “It’s one thing having an enemy out there, but if we can’t guarantee the safety inside… What are we going to do?”
King smiled. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
King held up his phone. “Marnie organised this,” he said. “GCHQ are scanning the hotel. With a triangulation of satellites. Anybody making a call has had their mobile phone intercepted and now I’m able to track their GPS. I don’t know who is denoted by which
