Chapter Twenty-six
I t was midday. Will and his CIA colleagues were still in the vicinity of the lodge. White clouds lay low in the sky; snow fell fast on the ground. The black smoke from the trees was gone.
Will and Laith were on the other side of the lake. Roger was a mile away by the lodge, observing the mountain road in case any concerned civilians had seen the smoke and were coming to offer their help or armed police were coming to investigate the sounds of gunfire. But everywhere around them was silent, peaceful.
Will looked at the mountains, at the tranquil lake, and at the snow that seemed to be cleansing the beautiful grounds around them. An eagle flew from one of the mountaintops and drifted. Will watched its graceful movements. He looked at Ross’s dead body. The poor man had been sliced open from the lower abdomen to the base of his chest plate. His intestines, liver, and other entrails had spilled out.
Laith glanced at the distant lodge, across the lake. “We haven’t got time to clear up all this mess.”
Will nodded. “I’m going to leave cash in the lodge for the asset. But we can’t expect the owner to dispose of the bodies.” Will kept his gaze on Ross. The Scot’s eyes were wide in an expression of absolute terror and pain.
“Well, we’ve got a problem. There’s no boat to take them out onto the lake, and swimming them out there would be suicidal.” Laith stamped a foot on the frozen ground. “Plus, no chance of digging graves.”
The eagle emitted a high-pitched scream. It moved so gracefully, yet seemed so distant. But Will knew it could quickly swoop on its prey and rip it apart with a brutal and immediate savagery. “I’ll bring Barkov’s body out here. Let the animals have them. There’s nothing else we can do.” He knelt down and patted a hand on Ross’s blood-soaked jacket. “Doesn’t make it right, though.”
“Nope, it never is.”
“Did you examine the area around here?”
“Yes. It took me an hour to find, but the snow indentations are clear-Razin was lying about five hundred feet away, farther up the mountain. Bastard was watching Ross and the lodge the whole time.”
Will stood and rubbed his facial stubble, knowing that Ross’s blood would now be on his face. “He must have been here hours before us, maybe longer.” Even though he hated Razin’s actions, he couldn’t help but admire the man’s professionalism. “Tomorrow night we need to be in Moscow. We’re going to do something unexpected.”
“Fine by me.” The big ex-Delta man sighed. “But I still think we need backup.”
“You’ll change your mind when I tell you what we’re going to be doing.”
Laith smiled. “Patrick told me and Roger to report back if you started disobeying protocols again.”
As Will had done in his last mission with the two CIA officers.
“Go ahead, but you’ll be making a mistake.”
The American said quietly, “We’re saying nothing.”
Will frowned. “Why?”
Laith moved closer to Will; he was at eye level. “Because we hope you know what you’re doing.” His smile faded. “But we also worry that you’ve met your match, that you won’t succeed.”
Will held his gaze. “I’ll succeed. The bastard’s time is running out. Soon he’ll make a mistake.”
“You’re that confident?”
Will studied his colleague. “No.”
“I thought so.”
“You knew so.”
“Yeah.” Laith moved back. “I believe you’ll succeed. But the question is whether you’ll do it in time to stop a war.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Will stood on the side of Ulitsa Noviy Arbat in the heart of Moscow’s government district. The large Moskva River was easily visible at the end of the main road. To his left was a thin strip of parkland with tall office buildings behind it. To his right were large, modern-looking government administrative buildings. It was early evening and dark, though street and building lights and a full moon made everything around him easily visible. Cars drove steadily along the road, their headlights illuminating the snow on the ground and flakes falling through the air. There were no pedestrians to be seen; this busy route was for vehicles only. Roger was five hundred feet to his south, beside the river on Smolenskaya Naberezhnaya. Laith was two hundred feet east, directly behind Will on Ulitsa Noviy Arbat. And though they couldn’t see it, a mile farther to the east was the Kremlin.
Will checked his watch. It was 6:14 P.M. In his earpiece, he heard Roger’s voice. “Nothing yet. But he left at this time yesterday, so stand by to hear from me.”
Will wrapped his arms around his civilian windbreaker jacket and felt Moscow’s icy air penetrate the fabric of his jeans. He stamped his boots on the ground. “Understood.”
Roger spoke again, his voice quiet and tense. “You still have time to change your mind.”
“I know, but we’re going through with this.”
Roger made a sound like a sigh. “This is fucking crazy.”
Will glanced over his shoulder. He couldn’t see Laith but knew the man was secreted in the parkland by the road. “Laith, all set?”
“Damn right.” The former Delta Force operative sounded totally focused.
“Good.” Will looked back toward the river. “Remember. Keep everyone alive.”
“We know.” Roger went quiet for a few seconds before saying, “Hold. The embassy’s gates are opening.”
Will narrowed his eyes, waiting for Roger to speak again.
“Two BMW saloon cars and one SUV exiting.” Roger’s words were barely audible.
Will held his breath.
“It’s not our target. It’s the ambassador and his bodyguards.”
Will cursed and checked his watch again.
“The gates are closing.” Roger’s slow breathing was heavy; his voice sounded frustrated. “I’ve been watching this place all day. I saw him go in and haven’t seen him leave. He has to still be here.”
“Be patient. I’m sure he’s still in the embassy.” But Will examined every car that drove past him in case the target had used another concealed exit from the embassy to get to the road to access his home on Bolotnaya Ploshchad’. One vehicle passed close to him and threw up a wave of icy slush off the road and onto his body. Will brushed the slush from his legs and jacket while watching the car’s driver. The man looked old and waved a hand apologetically. Will looked in the approximate direction of Roger, focusing solely on his earpiece.
It was a further ten minutes before Roger spoke. “A silver Audi’s just pulled up on Smolenskaya Naberezhnaya, a hundred feet from the embassy gates. Two men are inside.”
Will grabbed his throat mic. “FSB?”
“For sure.” Roger went quiet for a while. “They’re just waiting.”
“Assessment?”
“They look routine. The same tail that was on our target yesterday.”
“Okay.” A gust of wind blew snow along the road from the river. Will momentarily shut his eyes as the stuff struck his face. When he opened them, he saw an army truck passing right by him. He held his breath as he casually watched the half-open rear of the truck and the many soldiers inside disappear down the road. For the briefest of moments he wondered if his intentions were too much, too risky, if he should abort this mission. But he knew that his only hope of rescuing Sentinel lay in doing something that few would dare attempt in the epicenter of Moscow.
“Gates are opening again.”
Will froze.
