Sentinel (18 page)

Ross’s voice came back. “Yeah, I can hear you, but these damn mountains are interfering with the signal. I was saying that he’s still moving, now three hundred yards from you.”

Sentinel gripped his handgun. “I’m going downstairs to meet him.” He walked to the door, paused, and turned to face Will. His expression looked earnest. “Thank you for helping me with all of this. I understand why you don’t agree with me, but—” He smiled. “A four-bedroom property’s just come onto the market. It’s on the shore of Lake Windermere. Might suit me, don’t you think?”

Before Will could answer, Sentinel walked quickly out of the room just as Ross spoke.

“He’s a hundred and fifty feet from you. It’s crunch time.”

Will picked up his assault rifle, checked that his handgun was secure under his belt, opened his upper jacket pockets so that his spare magazines were easily accessible, and waited. He heard a car door slam, the bolts to the lodge’s entrance being wrenched open, and voices speaking in Russian.

“They talk by the car, our man ushers Barkov toward the lodge.” Ross’s commentary was quiet. “I’m keeping my sights on the vehicle. No one else gets out of it. They reach the lodge.”

Ross was silent.

Will held his breath.

“They enter the building.”

Will exhaled with relief.

He heard the door shut and bolts being put back into position. Then he heard a voice downstairs, clearly belonging to Barkov, speaking loudly in Russian. The presence of Roger and Laith had obviously perturbed the general. There were footsteps on the stairs and through the bedroom, and the voice drew closer. Sentinel and Lieutenant General Ilya Barkov entered the last room.

Barkov walked quickly up to Will. “I’m told that Russia is a dangerous place right now and requires the presence of armed British and American men to protect my interests. But why would I need to be reminded that Russia is a dangerous place when I’ve known that my entire life? And why have you and your men chosen today of all days to look after me when there have been a thousand similar moments in my life when I could’ve benefited from protection? Obviously, today is special. Obviously, men are nearby to kill me.”

Barkov was quite small and slim, had black hair that had been oiled and swept back, was clean shaven, wore an immaculate woolen suit, silk shirt, gleaming black brogues, and a silk bow tie. He was younger than Will expected, in his late forties, and it was clear that he was a high flyer to have reached one of Russia’s most senior military ranks at such an age.

Barkov held a hand out to Will and spoke in a clipped and rapid tone. “But here I am, and here you are. So let’s get on with business and hope that we’re not murdered in the process.”

Shaking the general’s hand, he wondered what to say to the Russian, decided that the man before him was exceptionally smart, and concluded that he had to tell him the truth. “One man may be nearby with the intention of killing you. We don’t know for sure. But if something does happen, it’s essential you do exactly as I say.”

Barkov released Will’s hand, glanced at Sentinel with a faint smile on his face, and looked back at Will. “There are only two men in the world who have the authority to give me orders. One of them is the commander in chief of the ground forces, and the other is the president of Russia. However”—his eyes flickered—“I will concede that just for today you may have some authority over me.”

Will heard Laith’s deep voice. “All’s quiet.”

And he heard Ross’s strong Scottish lilt. “I can’t see any unusual movement, but I’m having to cover an entire mountainside plus the lake, road, and lodge.”

Barkov gestured toward the table and chairs. “Gentlemen, shall we sit?”

Sentinel grabbed a chair. “My colleague will stay with us but not at this table.”

“As you wish.” Barkov sat down, glancing at Will. “Do what you need to do.”

W
ill sat on the floor, pointing his assault rifle at the door.

Sentinel was leaning forward across the table, speaking quietly to Barkov. “Sir, we have little time, so I’ll come straight to the point. We know that a Russian colonel is planning to misuse the weapons in his possession to spark war between Russia and America.”

“Name?”

“Taras Khmelnytsky.”

Barkov laughed. “Where did you hear this?”

“We know for certain that this is what he’s planning to do.”

“He’s a Hero of the Russian Federation, and he’d know that we’d lose in a war with America. Are you suggesting he’s working for the Americans?”

“No. He’s working alone.”

Ross’s voice spoke in Will’s earpiece. “I’ve just completed a hundred-and-eighty-degree sweep of the area before me and—” Loud static sounded.

“Say again, Ross. You broke up.” Will concentrated on his earpiece.

There was more static before Will heard Ross say, “Damn terrain. I said, I’ve seen nothing.”

“All right. Laith, Roger?”

“Nothing.”

Sentinel’s voice was now very quiet. “I think he wants to bring the countries to war so that he can take over Russia.”

Barkov shook his head. “You cannot expect me to believe this.”

“I can, and I need you to do something for me.”

“If you think I’m going to take this to Platonov, you’re mistaken.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to speak to your commander in chief. You’d be compromised. But I do want you to turn on the beacons attached to the nuclear devices in Khmelnytsky’s possession.”

“And give you the grid reference of his base of operations?”

“Precisely.”

Barkov looked angry. “This smells to me like subterfuge.”

“It’s not. We’re desperate. We’ve got to stop him.”

“I think this is a charade . . . the men here . . . the idea that someone out there wants to kill me. A charade.”

A shot rang out in the distance. Will instantly jumped to his feet, gripping his assault rifle tight, and ran to one side of the windows. “What’s happening? Was that you, Ross?!”

There was static in his earpiece before Roger’s frantic voice came over the air. “Ross’s just shot one of my incendiary devices. Ross, what’s going on?”

There was more static, then another shot. Will glanced out of the window and just as quickly pulled his head and body back behind the cover of the wall. Ross had shot a second incendiary device. Two trees were on fire; black smoke billowed from them very close to the lodge. Will looked at Barkov. “Get flat on the floor by the back wall!”

Sentinel was on his feet, moving to the corner of the room, where he grabbed a QBZ-95G resting upright on its butt. “His communication system’s down. But he must have spotted a sniper.”

One with thermal imagery.

A third shot rang out, followed by a fourth, fifth, and sixth.

“Ross!” Will pressed one hand against his throat mic. “Can you hear me? Where’s the hostile?”

Another three shots rang out.

Laith screamed, “That’s all of them! The whole damned place in front of the lodge is ablaze!”

Will glanced at Barkov. The man had followed his instructions and was lying down behind the table.

But Bartov muttered, “Give me a gun.”

“Stay where you are!” Will swung his gun through the window’s glass, moved the barrel to form a large hole in it, and stood exposed, searching the outside ground for signs of Razin. But the fire from the trees was now abating, and the dampening effect of the snow on them had produced a two-hundred-foot-tall and five-hundred-foot-wide thick black wall of smoke. He cursed. Razin was blind to them, but they were now blind to him without Ross’s communications system working. His heart pounded. He looked at Sentinel; the man’s eyes were narrow, and he was gripping his gun while standing by one side of the window.

Sentinel muttered, “Maybe Ross’s system’s not down. This is starting to feel wrong.”

“I know.” Will shook his head, his mind racing. He stopped shaking his head as one stark thought pushed all others aside. His heart pumped faster; adrenaline coursed through his body. “Roger, Laith, I think Razin’s taken Ross’s rifle and fired at the incendiary devices. I don’t think he’s using thermal imagery. I think he shot the devices to make us blind.”

So that he could move in close without being seen.

“You could be wrong, Will.” Roger’s tone of voice was anything but accusatory, but Will knew the CIA man had to make the point.

“I could be fucking wrong!” He gripped his gun tighter. “Ross’s communications could be down. But it doesn’t feel right.”

“I hear you.”

Will closed his eyes, then opened them. “Roger, I’ve got to stay here.”

“I know what you’re thinking. Laith and I will get him.”

Will nodded. “All right. But move fast.”

Will looked at Barkov. “If we don’t get him, will you turn on the beacons?”

Barkov looked uncertain.

“Will you turn on the fucking beacons?”

Barkov nodded. “All right.”

“In that case, here’s your weapon.” Will withdrew his handgun and slid it across the floor to the general.

The Russian grabbed the pistol, expertly checked its workings, rose to a crouch, and looked at Sentinel.

Laith’s words were nearly breathless; it was clear that he was running fast. “We’re out of the lodge, moving along the mountainside.”

Will looked out of the window, but the wall of smoke was still thick and prevented him from seeing the CIA men.

Sentinel looked at him sharply. “Dash for the car?”

Will thought rapidly. “Not yet. But we need to be ready. All of us, downstairs.”

They moved to the first-floor lounge. Will pointed at the kitchen. “In there.” The lounge had two sash windows that opened vertically. Will yanked the first one up three inches, pulled out the pin from a stun grenade, jammed the grenade in the open gap, and ensured that it was held fast with the heavy window pressing firm against the grenade’s lever. He did the same with the room’s other window and his second stun grenade. Moving to the lodge’s front door, he took out a thin piece of cotton, opened the door a few inches, primed and placed his last grenade on the floor within the gap, pulled the door closed onto the grenade, and tied the door firmly by wrapping the cotton around its handle and a lock on the door frame. Providing that the grenades weren’t spotted, a man who opened the windows or pulled back the door, while easily snapping the thread, would be in for a big surprise. The grenades were primed to explode the instant the levers were opened.

Will jogged into the kitchen and shut the door behind him.

They waited for ten minutes with Will pointing his gun at the door.

Roger’s voice sounded in his earpiece. The CIA officer’s words sent a shiver down Will’s spine.

“Ross’s dead, and we’ve found his rifle. There’s no sign of Razin. Somehow he must have got past us. But my God, Ross has been butchered!”

Will shouted, “Get back to us!”

“On our way!”

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.