“Razin’s got to be around here somewhere.” Will gripped his handgun tight. “We split up and hunt him down.”
A vehicle’s tires screeched in the distance. The three intelligence officers swung their weapons in the approximate direction of the noise but could see nothing.
“He’s getting away!” Roger moved his gun left and right. “Vehicle lights are off. He’s at least a quarter mile away… I’ve got no shot.” He lowered his rifle quickly and said, “To our car. Now!”
They ran away from the church into woods and continued for five hundred feet until they were close to the vehicle that Roger had carefully hidden between trees and undergrowth. Roger and Laith switched on their flashlights, spotted the car 150 feet away, and ran toward it. Will knew that Razin had driven away from the church along the only track leading to the place and that beyond it he would be joining a minor road that would continue for ten miles before branching into different directions. Roger’s driving skills would give them an excellent chance of closing in on Razin so that his car would be visible before he took one of the exits off the minor road. But Will wondered why Razin had driven his car so noisily, betraying his exit route.
He suddenly realized why, causing his stomach to churn and his legs to pump harder as he raced to his CIA colleagues. He shouted, “Get down,” leapt through the air, grabbed the Americans, and fell toward the ground while still holding them. Before they struck land, the car exploded, sending splinters of metal and glass in every direction.
The men lay on the snow, breathing fast, as pieces of debris fell over them. But none of them was harmed. Will pushed himself off the men, stood up, and stared at the decimated vehicle as it burned and emitted thick, noxious smoke from its melting tires. He shook his head as Roger and Laith got to their feet.
“Quick thinking.” Laith brushed ash from his jacket.
Will rubbed his face. “Razin could have driven away silently. Instead, he deliberately gunned his vehicle to make us dash to our car and either had a pretimed explosive in the car or used a detonator to explode our vehicle when he thought we were close enough.” He stamped a boot on the snow in frustration.
Roger checked his assault rifle and handgun. “I’ve got thirteen bullets left in my rifle and one magazine left for my handgun.”
Laith examined his weapons. “Six bullets for my rifle, eleven for my handgun.”
Will did not need to check his pistol. “I’m down to seven bullets.” He nodded at the burning wreck. “And my rifle was in there along with most of our other belongings.” He looked at his colleagues. “How much cash have you got?”
Roger patted a jacket pocket. “Neither of us has used our cash. Between us we’ve got one point five million rubles.”
The equivalent of approximately fifty thousand dollars.
“Which makes a total of seventy-five thousand dollars among the three of us.”
A siren sounded in the distance, followed by another.
Will said, “Shit.”
Laith muttered, “Why the hell did Razin decide to kill Guy now?”
“Because he found out that others knew about Guy’s treachery. And the only person who could have given him that information is Sentinel.” Despite the heat emitting from the nearby burning wreck, Will shivered. “Like us, Razin must have been watching the embassy, waiting to follow Guy and kill him. But we stepped in first, and he tailed us to the church.”
“So he’s already started torturing Sentinel.” Roger’s words were solemn.
Will looked at the CIA officer, then at the distant burning church. “Yes, but I doubt he’s broken him yet. I think Sentinel deliberately told Razin that we’d be going after Guy, hoping that it would give us one last chance to kill Razin.” He looked down and muttered again, “Shit.”
Roger placed a hand on Will’s shoulder. “You thought Sentinel’s strategy was too risky, and you were proven right. Your strategy to discredit Razin is where our hope lies. But as for Sentinel, there’s nothing more you can do.”
Will’s mind raced. He thought about the profiles of Sentinel’s tier-1 agents, every piece of information he’d read about them in the files in Langley, anything that might be useful. One name stood out. He looked at the CIA operatives. “I’ve got an idea that I wouldn’t have tried at the outset of this mission, but now I think it might be worth a shot.” He paused. “If I asked you both to stay in Russia a little longer, would you do so?”
“Fuck, yes.”
“Damn right.”
Will nodded. “Razin can’t just detonate the bomb in a Russian installation and hope it sparks a war. His plan must be more precise than that.”
The sirens were drawing closer.
“The key to finding Sentinel now lies in finding out where and when Razin intends to strike. And I think I know someone who might be able to get that information.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
It was eleven A.M., and Will was in a cheap hotel room in the center of Moscow. He, Roger, and Laith had arrived at the hotel early that morning, having traveled nearly sixty miles on foot from the church to the city and having discarded all remaining weapons save their handguns. They had paid cash for their rooms and had told the receptionist that they did not want to be disturbed the rest of the morning.
Will stood in the center of the tiny, barely furnished bedroom wearing a towel wrapped around his waist and nothing else. His clothes hung over radiators, drying after he had hand washed them in the bathroom’s sink and shower. There was a knock on the door. Will immediately moved to a side table and placed his fist over his pistol. The door opened. Will removed his hand from his gun as Roger entered and let the door swing shut behind him.
Roger smiled. “You’re not going to make a pass at me, are you?”
Will smiled. “Fuck off. Did you get the flight?”
Roger rubbed his fatigued face. “I did.”
“Excellent.” Will picked up his travel bag and swung it onto the bed. “What time do we depart?”
“We need to be out of here in one hour.”
“Okay.”
Roger laughed. “If we’d been able to wait another fourteen hours, we could have saved ourselves $45,000 by getting a regular commercial flight.”
Will snapped, “I can’t afford to waste any time.”
Plus they needed to avoid airport security so that they could get their guns through.
Roger nodded. “I know. How are you?”
Will frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s a straightforward question. How are you feeling?”
Will stared at his colleague for a moment before replying, “I’m absolutely fine.”
The tall American held his gaze and said softly, “Your plan to capture Guy was a good one. He was our most direct means to locate Razin. And you had no intention of harming Guy, just scaring him.”
Will said quietly, “True. But ultimately it was me who put a bullet in his brain.” He looked away. “I killed a British national, a senior member of MI6.”
“You put him out of his misery.” Roger was motionless. “Some people in a similar position would have just let the bastard burn to death.”
Will muttered, “Nobody’s in my bloody position.”
“I know.” The ex-DEVGRU SEAL’s voice was one of total sympathy. “That’s why I asked.”
W ill turned on the shower, watched brown water emerge from the nozzle, and waited a moment before stepping into the cubicle when the water ran clear. Raising his face, he allowed the hot water to pour over his head and torso. He washed his grimy body with a bar of soap and tore open a small sachet of shampoo to use on his dark, cropped, greasy hair. Satisfied that he was clean, he closed his eyes and lowered his muscular physique until
