The noise of the stun grenade exploding in the adjacent bedroom was deafening. His ears ringing, Will dived to the side of the closed door, screaming, “He’s here!”
Sentinel dropped low into a crouch, pointing his assault rifle at the door. Barkov did the same.
Sentinel called, “I’ve got the door covered. Get in there and take him down while he’s still disoriented.”
Will instantly rose, his weapon held high, and kicked the door open. The front door was ajar, but the room looked empty. It was not. He was grabbed from the side and hurled across the room with tremendous force. Crashing against the far wall, he winced in severe pain, twisted, and started crawling toward his discarded rifle. But then he saw the back of a man, saw that man drop low by the doorway just as one of Sentinel’s bullets whistled over his head, heard the hostile’s gun fire twice, and saw the man enter the next room. Gasping for air and still lying on the ground, Will reached his weapon and pointed it at the doorway.
Razin emerged from the room holding Sentinel by the throat and using him as a shield. Sentinel’s white combat jacket was soaked in blood, clearly from a bullet wound to his upper body. Razin held a handgun jammed against his temple. Razin’s large fist was wrapped around not only the pistol’s handgrip but also a grenade. Will knew it was not the type of grenade that would merely stun.
Will took aim. Enough of Razin’s head was visible for him to easily kill the man. He started pulling back the trigger, but hesitated. A bead of sweat ran down his face.
Sentinel’s expression was one of absolute pain; his eyes were narrow. “Kill him!”
Will tightened his grip on his trigger.
Razin smiled, moving his captive a few feet into the bedroom. “If you shoot me, I’ll involuntarily squeeze the trigger and probably kill your colleague. But if I miss his head, my hand will certainly release the grenade and this room will be blown to pieces.”
Sentinel’s eyes were now wide, staring straight at Will. It was clear that the MI6 officer had not known about the grenade. Like Will, he would be rapidly trying to decide what should be done.
Razin tightened his grip around Sentinel’s throat, causing Sentinel to make a choking sound, and moved farther across the room. Will’s heart was beating so fast he thought it might explode.
Razin and Sentinel were now ten feet from Will, moving toward the exit. Will kept his gun trained on Razin’s head. If he shot him, they’d all die. That was a sacrifice Will was prepared to make, because Razin’s death was all that mattered. But it was an unnecessary sacrifice. Roger and Laith were on their way back. Maybe Razin didn’t know they were out there. If so, they’d have the element of surprise and could take him down when he was no longer holding the grenade.
The Spetsnaz commander squeezed his hand again. Sentinel’s eyes shut; he was unconscious. Razin reached the doorway. “I told you we’d meet again.” He flicked the hand holding the gun, tossing his grenade at Will, and instantly returned the gun to Sentinel’s head and dragged him out of the building. The grenade was still in midair as Will thrust his body up, sprinted, and dived headfirst through one of the closed sash windows. He heard glass shatter, Razin’s grenade explode, and the stun grenade he had jammed under the window ignite and cause brilliant white light and piercing noise to encapsulate his mind and body as he thumped onto the ground.
His body was in agony as a result of the shards of glass sticking in him, though the pain felt as if it belonged to someone else. Nothing seemed real except the noise and light that were gripping him with unrelenting ferocity.
One second, one minute, or one hour later-he had no way of knowing-a hand gripped his arm and hauled him to his feet. He staggered; white light remained all around him, but within it he saw two hazy dark silhouettes of men. They seemed to be talking, though their voices sounded distant and nonsensical. He spun around and vomited into the white light. The voices became louder, sounded urgent, then distinct.
“Will! Will!”
He shook his head, opened and shut his eyes, and tried to think. He breathed deeply, attempting to muster all of his remaining strength to focus his mind and body and make the white light and noise go away.
“Will!”
He felt another arm grab him, felt his body being marched over the ground while being held in the viselike grips on either side of him, and he heard one of the voices again. “Keep him moving until his balance returns.”
The white light began to fade. The noise began to ebb. He started seeing dots and shapes; they grew larger until he realized they were trees. He sucked in a lungful of air; the act caused him to gag and vomit again. But this time he saw his vomit land on a surface that was not light, but snow. He frowned, staring down at his feet for a while.
“Will?”
He blinked, stayed still for a moment longer, breathed slowly, then lifted his body until he was upright. One of the hands holding him released its grip. Will nodded. The other hand let go of him. He heard boots crunch over snow. He looked around. Roger and Laith were in front of him.
“Can you see and hear us?”
Will nodded again. He took a step forward. One of his knees buckled and he nearly fell to the ground, but he managed to put another foot forward quickly and stay on his feet. Looking at his legs, he saw large pieces of glass sticking out of them. He ignored them and looked at the CIA men. “The Mercedes?”
“Gone. It was half a mile down the road before we even got back to the lodge. I’d say Razin’s at least five miles away now, probably more. Even if we knew where he was going, we wouldn’t have a chance in hell of catching up with him.”
“Barkov?”
“Dead. He’s got a bullet between his eyes.” Laith shook his head. “No one else is in the lodge.”
Will looked up at the sky. Large snowflakes fell over his face. He felt utter frustration and despair. “I had him in my sights. I could easily have killed him.” He returned his gaze to his colleagues. “ Why’s he taken Sentinel alive?”
Roger shrugged. “To get the location of the remaining agents?”
“I think he already knows their location.” Will kicked at the snow. “But if not, there would have been easier ways to find out where they live, rather than risk his life by trying to capture Sentinel alive.”
Laith asked, “Where are the agents?”
“Spread out across Russia.” Will became still as a thought came to him. “ That’s his problem. Every murder is taking too long.” He nodded. “Perhaps it’s not information he wants. Maybe he intends to use Sentinel.”
Roger agreed. “Use him to summon his agents to one location.”
Will pulled out shards of glass from his jacket. “Yes, he’ll torture Sentinel until the man’s mind is broken.”
“He resisted torture for years when he was in prison. Razin will know that.”
“That was a long time ago. Methods to extract information have become more advanced.” Will thought about the drugs that had been put in him during the Program exercise in the States. “Still, he should be able to hold out for a few days.” He shook his head. The prospect of Sentinel’s torture repulsed him. It should never have come to this. He should have refused to let Sentinel go ahead with the Barkov meeting. Fixing his gaze on the CIA officers, he said, “We’ve got two priorities now: stopping Razin, and rescuing Sentinel. I’ve already set in motion a strategy to get Razin away from the bombs, but I’ll need you to help me track down Sentinel’s location.”
Laith asked, “How are we going to do that?”
“We have cash, passports, spare clothes to make us look normal, a vehicle, and weapons.” Will nodded. “We’ll use those things to try to get him back.”
“You also need to notify the Agency so that we can get their help. They should give us every available resource they have.”
Will smiled, though now he felt nothing but anger and a total focus. “For the time being, we can’t talk to the Agency.”
Laith looked incredulous. “You’ve got to tell Patrick and Alistair that Sentinel’s been captured!”
Will shook his head. “I’m not going to do that.”
“God damn it, Will. You’re making the wrong decision.”
Will breathed in deeply as he looked across the Ural Mountains. “I can’t talk to Alistair or Patrick because they would never authorize what I’m going to do next.”
Matthew Dunn
Sentinel
