“Two minutes until we leave.”
Will walked out of the tunnel and onto the orange line platform. Looking at the electronic timetable above him, he saw that his train was due to arrive in one minute. Checking his watch, he said, “It’s going to be very tight.”
The three men emerged onto the platform. They were looking at him. One of them called out in Russian; his words were slurred. Will shook his head, walking away from them until he was farther down the platform. He heard the noise of his train, and soon it was thundering alongside the platform, its bright interior and exterior lights causing him to wince. When the doors opened, he walked into the carriage.
Markov spoke, although it was impossible to understand what he said. Will was about to respond but stopped as the three men jumped into the same carriage he was in. They looked at him, grinning. Two of them took swigs from their liquor bottles. The third held his by the neck. It had been smashed in half and was nothing but jagged edges at one end.
Will pushed his throat mic flush against his skin, and said in a near whisper, “Not sure if you can hear me. I’m on the orange line.”
The train pulled away. Will moved farther down the carriage. The men took several steps nearer to him, until they were only a few feet away. One of them took another big slug of spirit, then spat the liquid at Will. Will shook his head again, moving farther away from them until he was at the end of the carriage.
“Our train’s arrived, we’re-” The voice was Markov’s but was replaced by a crackling noise.
Will said loudly, “Say again.”
The Russian men heard his words. The largest of the three big men muttered, “American?”
The men’s grins vanished, replaced by looks of hostility.
Will said nothing.
The Russian holding the broken bottle pointed its deadly shards toward Will’s head, while nodding. “American.”
Will momentarily closed his eyes and silently cursed. He had no idea how long the journey to Lubyanka would be, but he thought it would be only a minute or two before he arrived there. Under no circumstances could he be delayed. He smelled bad breath and alcohol. Something sharp touched his cheek. Opening his eyes, he saw that the men were right by him. The largest held his makeshift weapon against Will’s face.
Will smiled. Quickly, he swept his arm to knock the bottle away, stepped forward, and punched the flat of his hand into the man’s nose, crumpling it into a bloody mess and sending the man staggering back, clutching his face and screaming. Will dropped low as the two other men tried to punch him in the head. Using the heel of his shoe, he kicked one of them in the base of his knee, thrust sideways and upward, and used the power of the movement to smash his elbow into the other man’s jawbone. Both men fell to the floor. The big man with the broken nose shook his head, pulled his hands away from his blood-covered face, bellowed, and rushed toward Will. Will took one step to the side, moved low, and swung his fist upward into the man’s gut as the Russian raced forward. The force of the impact lifted the man’s entire body weight off the floor and caused him to vomit the liquor and all other contents from his stomach.
Will looked at the three men writhing on the ground by his feet, then walked quickly over them to the train’s doors. The train was slowing. Into his mic, he said, “I’m approaching Lubyanka station.”
Roger answered in a clear voice, “Keep sharp. We’ve no idea what the target’s doing. He’s sitting at the end of our carriage, looking at us with a grin on his face.”
“Which carriage are you in?”
“Second from the front.”
Will’s train stopped. He ran out of the carriage and along the platform’s exit, searching for signs of the purple line. As he did so he said, “Vitali, get your car to Kitai-Gorod station in case the target stays on this line. Korina, move further east in case the target switches lines and goes north.”
They both replied, “Understood.”
Will reached the purple line platform. A few other people were there, and most looked like early-morning commuters on their way to work. Will was glad of their presence, as they would give him some cover. He moved to the far end of the platform so that he would be by the back of the train when it arrived, away from Roger, Markov, and the target.
Markov said, “We’re slowing down, approaching Lubyanka.”
“I can hear your train.” Will looked along the platform. Some more commuters emerged onto it and joined the others, who were now moving closer toward the incoming train. “What’s the target doing?”
“Still sitting, but close to the doors.”
“Where are you?”
“We’re both in seats, far enough away from the exits to lose him if he bolts as the doors shut.”
“Good.”
The train emerged and slowed as it traveled alongside the platform. Grinding to a halt, the train’s doors opened. No one got out. Everyone on the platform started walking in. Will started moving with them, staying close behind the couple in front of him.
Roger’s words were quiet and controlled. “He’s still sitting, looking at the doors… we’ve just received the signal we’re about to depart… doors are closing… he still sits… now he’s up and running. He’s moving out of the train!”
Will looked rapidly along the platform. At the other end he saw the sailor sprint out of the train just as the doors closed behind him. In the same carriage, Roger and Markov were now standing, their palms pressed against the window nearest to the platform while they shook their heads and stared at the target. Their playacting seemed to work. As the train began to pull away from the platform, the sailor turned, smiled, and raised a finger at them before spinning back and continuing to run. He had not seen Will.
Will said, “Roger, Markov: your next station is Kitai-Gorod. Get out of the subway there.” He moved along a corridor until he was heading toward the station exit. The target was walking fast and had his cell phone planted on his ear; he was clearly receiving new instructions from Razin.
Will followed him through the exit barriers, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the daylight outside the station. The snow was heavy, the air was freezing, people and cars were on the streets. Keeping a distance of 150 feet behind the sailor, Will matched his pace as he walked along a sidewalk. After thirty seconds, the target stopped, kept his phone against his head for a moment, then snapped it shut and put it into a pocket. Will waited. The sailor looked around, but not back at Will. Beside the man was the Lubyanka building. It was the current headquarters of the Border Guard Service, and it also contained one directorate of the FSB. But during the era of the Soviet Union it had been a notorious prison for political dissidents and spies. It was the place where Sentinel had been incarcerated and tortured for six years.
The target was about to walk across the road but stepped back as fourteen military trucks quickly turned onto the route. Pedestrians and cars stopped on the road to give way to the convoy. As it thundered past them and the target, spewing up snow from the road, Will quickly glanced at the military vehicles. They were stuffed with armed paratroopers wearing sky blue berets. As the last truck passed Will, he saw that one of the soldiers at the back of the vehicle looked familiar. In an instant, he recognized him as the young soldier who had been unable to assemble his rifle during the flight to Moscow. The man was looking not at him but at the weapon Roger had expertly assembled for him.
The target crossed the road. So did Will.
Will spoke into his throat mic, “We’re heading southeast.”
“You’re heading toward our position outside Kitai-Gorod.” Vitali’s voice was clear.
“And us.” Roger sounded as though he was walking fast or jogging. “We’re just about to exit the same station.”
Will nodded. “Roger: you and Markov are compromised so can’t be seen on foot. Take over Vitali’s vehicle and head a few hundred yards further south. Then wait there.”
Markov answered, “We’ll go to Nikol’skiy Pereulok.”
“Okay. Vitali, Laith: get on foot and stay outside the station. Korina, the target might be heading for the river. Get mobile, and see if you can find somewhere there or near there to wait.”
After another minute of pursuing the target, Will saw the subway station. He examined all the pedestrians near it and spotted Laith standing to the left of the entrance and Vitali about thirty feet away from him. “I can see
