Sentinel (25 page)

Roger shouted above the sound of his vehicle, “Just turning onto the quayside. Hold.”

Laith stumbled as his feet struck ice on the side street, but Will grabbed him with one hand and kept him moving at full sprint.

Roger said, “I’m stationary. The four tonner is about a quarter mile away, coming straight toward me. No sight of the SUV. Correction . . . SUV overtaking truck. I’ve got clear visibility of the target. Instructions, please.”

Will’s mind raced, desperately trying to decide what to do.

“Instructions, please,” Roger repeated. “I’ve got my rifle pointing right at them. I can easily take them all down.”

“Wait!” Will ran even faster; Laith kept right by his side.

“She’s called it in, Will.” Roger’s voice was calm but menacing. “But she might not have had time to tell them everything. If I take them down, we stand a good chance of getting out of the city.”

“Not yet!”

They moved past occasional pedestrians wrapped in full winter attire, with shoulders hunched and heads bowed against the driving snowfall. They seemed to take no notice of the two men dressed in expensive suits, shoes, and overcoats sprinting through the snow and ice.

“They’re three hundred yards away from me.” Roger sounded as though he was speaking through gritted teeth. “I need a decision.”

“Come on, Will!” Laith’s words were urgent and angry.

Will said nothing.

“Five hundred feet away. Will?”

Will grabbed Laith, skidded to a halt with the man, and spoke rapidly into his Bluetooth. “Abort. Get out of there, and head straight back to her house.”

“What?”

“Do it, Roger. We’ll meet you there. But move like fury.”

Laith stared at Will with a look of bemusement while he bent over with his hands on his knees, sucking in air.

Will ignored the expression and pointed northeast. “Her house. We’ve got to be there before she gets back.”

Laith pushed himself upright, half turned, and immediately led the way. They ran to the end of the street, turned left onto a main road, sprinted straight across it while dodging slow-moving vehicles, ran into another side street, and kept moving for three hundred yards before making the turn onto the street containing Korina’s house. Laith and Will did not slow, running at full speed for a further five hundred feet until they were at her front door. Roger pulled up next to them, and Will was relieved to see that his Audi was still covered with frozen snow. Nevertheless, he and Laith immediately started gathering up some more of the stuff from the roadside and patting it onto places on the car where metal was exposed.

Will told Roger, “Get in the house, get coffee on.” He looked at Laith. “You too, and start chain-smoking to get the room feeling like we never left the place.”

Will placed one final lump of snow onto the Audi’s hood, decided it would have to be enough, heard an engine noise in the distance, and raced into the front entrance just as he saw the hood of a vehicle emerge at the end of the road.

Will dashed toward his colleagues, who were furiously stamping the snow off their feet. Grabbing their outer garments, he sprinted upstairs to the bathroom. Holding each coat over the bathtub, he punched them to release the snow, ran hot water to melt the snow that had fallen into the bathtub, turned the tap off, and returned quickly downstairs. Hanging the coats up, he scrutinized the floor of the lounge and kitchen, grabbed a kitchen towel to mop up a few spots of melted snow, tossed it back onto a kitchen surface, and breathed deeply. Laith was sitting in an armchair in the lounge, and he had managed to get through two cigarettes and was lighting a third with one hand while holding a fresh mug of instant coffee with the other. Roger emerged from the kitchen holding two more mugs of coffee. He gave one to Will and sat down on a dining room chair. Will remained standing, trying to calm his body to make it appear as if he’d just spent the last hour doing nothing more energetic than replenishing coffee cups within the small terraced house. But his heart pounded within his chest.

Directly outside the house, car doors opened and slammed shut. Will took a gulp of his steaming hot coffee, pulled out his QSZ-92 handgun, and pointed it at the front door. In his peripheral vision, he saw Roger and Laith do the same.

The door opened; Korina entered the house. She paused in the narrow entrance leading to the lounge, staring at the three men who were aiming their weapons at her. She shook her head and said urgently, “William, this is not what it seems.”

“We expected you to come back on foot”—Will took another sip of his coffee while keeping his eyes and pistol trained on Korina—“not pull up outside your house in a vehicle containing two men.” He gripped his handgun hard. “We kept our side of the bargain, waiting for you here, trusting you.”

Korina sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. But I had to make a decision, and that decision was that we needed help. I’ve not told anyone else you’re here. The two men with me are totally loyal and are experts at keeping their mouths shut.”

Will narrowed his eyes. “Then you’d better bring them in so that we can introduce ourselves.”

Korina turned, beckoned to the men who were waiting outside, then moved fully into the lounge. One man entered the room. He was of medium height, had a powerful build and a shaven head, and was dressed in a dark suit.

“This is Vitali.”

The man eyed them coldly, saying nothing.

The front door was shut, and the second man was there but had his back to them as he wrenched the door’s bolt closed. His task complete, he turned to face the room. Like his colleague, he was dressed in a dark suit, and he looked powerful and athletic. Unlike his colleague, the man was tall and had cropped blond hair and a face covered in scars.

Korina pointed at him. “And this is Markov. They’re Spetsnaz GRU.”

Will stepped toward the two special forces men, checked to see that Roger and Laith still had their guns pointed at the Russians, lowered his weapon, and tucked it into his belt. For a moment he wondered what to say. Having decided, he said, “If you’re here to do me or my men harm, I’ll kill you both before you have a chance to move a muscle. If not, you would do well to understand that your presence here could be deemed treacherous by your Spetsnaz officers. If Korina has not made that clear to you, then I’m giving you the chance now to turn around and walk out of here while you still have a job and your liberty.”

Vitali gestured toward Korina while keeping his attention on Will. “Major Tsvetaeva made
two
things clear to us. First, that she needed our urgent help to stop the destruction of our country. Second, that we would be breaking the laws of Russia by doing so.” He glanced at Markov, who nodded, before looking back at Will. “We understand our situation.”

Will looked sharply at Korina. “If these two men are absent without leave from Spetsnaz, they’ll be a liability to our team, as their unit commanders will issue orders for their arrest.”

Korina shook her head. “I spoke to their superior and gained formal clearance for their immediate short-term attachment to me. I also spoke to my boss in Moscow and fed him a lie. I said that one of my agents had contacted me and said he had information about U.S. naval movements but suspected that he was compromised and needed to urgently meet me in the western borders of Russia. I said I needed a few days to get there and meet him and had requisitioned two men and equipment from Spetsnaz GRU to help protect me during my meeting.” She smiled, pulling out a cigarette. “As far as our superiors are concerned, the three of us are on official business and will be difficult to contact during the next few days.”

Will looked at the Spetsnaz men. “Why are you willing to help?”

Vitali answered with a smile, “What man wouldn’t like a short-term
attachment
to Major Tsvetaeva?”

Will didn’t smile and repeated his question.

Markov pointed at the major. “Because we both trust her judgment. All of the Spetsnaz men based here think that way. She’s one of us.”

“Have you been told who we’re looking for?”

Vitali nodded. “The head of Spetsnaz Alpha.”

Markov added, “Major Tsvetaeva told us outright. In case we had a problem hunting one of our own.”

“Has either of you ever served with him?”

Markov shook his head.

Vitali answered, “No, but I saw him once. I was on an advanced sniper course. There were ten of us from various different Spetsnaz units. We were testing a prototype rifle, and each of us was given the task of trying to hit a playing card, one mile away. Colonel Khmelnytsky was observing, along with four other commanders, because two of the students were from Alpha. We could hear the other commanders talking, saying the new weapon was rubbish given that none of us could get a bullet to within five feet of our playing cards. But Khmelnytsky stayed silent. Instead, he walked up to the sniper on the left of our range, picked up his rifle, took aim while standing, and fired the weapon. His bullet struck the center of the playing card. Then he walked along the line, doing the same with each of our guns, until he’d fired ten bullets from ten rifles and struck ten playing cards as if they’d been only a few feet away from him.” Vitali smiled. “After he dropped the last rifle, he strode off, walked past the other unit commanders, and muttered loud enough for us all to hear, ‘The weapon’s not rubbish, but every man around me is.’ ”

Will looked at Korina. “Why did you bring these men here?”

Korina inhaled deeply on her cigarette. “Two days after the intelligence report was issued, Taras instructed the agent to abscond from the U.S. Navy and use an infiltration route to enter Russia. He did so on the pretext that the agent could be in danger, although from what we know I suspect his real motive was to get the agent out of his game. But he needed official clearance to do that, as the infiltration route belonged to the SVR and required their assistance. His request for the agent’s exfiltration from America’s Kitsap Naval Base was officially recorded in our files and was approved. As a result, the source is now residing in a dacha on the outskirts of Moscow. The records show that the man has low-level security protection from the SVR, is not deemed a threat, and can come and go from the property as he pleases.”

Will’s anger vanished. “We need to meet the agent and put the fear of God into him to make him panic.” His heart beat fast. “After that meeting, I don’t think he’ll dare discuss his situation with his agent handler on the telephone in case the SVR is monitoring his calls. I think he’ll want to meet Taras. Hopefully, he’ll lead us straight to him.”

Korina’s eyes flickered. “I thought you’d say that.” She looked at Roger, Laith, then Will. “But that hope rests upon the ability of you and your men moving through my country as if you were GRU officials.” She nodded at Markov and Vitali. “That’s why I asked for these two men. Together with me, they will front the team and diminish the threat of scrutiny on the three of you. They’ll also help with equipment and transport.” She smiled, flicking her cigarette onto the floor and stubbing it out with the heel of her boot. “And they can handle themselves very well in a fight.”

“That’s all good, ma’am, but”—Laith was still pointing his handgun in the direction of the GRU personnel—“I don’t speak fluent Russian.”

“Then you’ll just have to keep your mouth shut.”

Will frowned. “The SVR will never let us meet him without clearance.”

“Correct. That’s why I called them and told them that I needed to have a formal meeting with the man.” She looked serious. “Technically, Taras’s intelligence falls within my jurisdiction, as it relates to a naval matter that is happening within seas that come under the scrutiny of GRU Vladivostok. That means I have every right to reevaluate the intelligence, up to and including challenging the source of the report.” She nodded once. “The SVR had no choice other than to grant me an audience with the American agent.”

Will nodded. “Okay. But we need to meet him tonight.”

“Tonight?” Korina looked shocked. “He’s an eight-hour flight away in Moscow.”

For the first time that day, Will smiled. “I’m sure that right now there are plenty of military flights traveling back and forth across Russia. I’m confident you can get us on one.”

W
ill and Korina were alone. The rest of the team were in the next room, quietly talking to one another, the Russians trying to get the measure of the Americans and vice versa.

Will asked, “Can we work together?”

Korina studied him. “We’ll have to find out.” She lit a cigarette and pointed it toward him. “But I warn you, I’m no fool. If you try and trick me, I’ll make you and your men suffer.”

“I’ve no intention of tricking you. I came here because I need your help.” He frowned. “Is this a place they’d normally post someone with—”

“A pretty face like mine?”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Then what?”

“It’s just that you look like you’d be better suited to Moscow HQ.” Will wasn’t sure he knew what he was saying. Perhaps it was that Korina’s elegance seemed at odds with the harshness of this part of Russia.

Korina inhaled smoke. “I have no family now. I never knew my mother—she ran off with another man when I was a baby. And when I was old enough to look after myself, my father was often away at sea for long periods. I suppose it toughened me up a lot. I didn’t want a cozy desk job in Moscow. So I volunteered to come out here.”

Will understood. The tragedies in his early life had driven him to seek out his extreme existence. “I’m sorry about your father.”

Korina lowered her head. “They wouldn’t tell me at first how he was killed. No doubt they thought it would be too upsetting. But I pulled some strings and found out everything.” She looked up. “That bastard savaged him.”

Will hesitated before placing a hand on hers. “I know how you feel.”

Her expression steeled. “How?”

“My parents were killed.”

“An accident?”

“Murdered.”

She squeezed his hand, released her grip, and muttered, “So here we are, filling the void.” She nodded once. “Yes, I think you and I can work together.” Extinguishing her cigarette, she added, “There’s something else you should know. When I was in my office, I checked my telegrams. One of them was from GRU Moscow HQ and was marked
URGENT
. It was sent to me and every other GRU station chief based in Russia but outside Moscow. The telegram stated that we must store all intelligence files in our possession within burn boxes, ready to be incinerated if our offices are overrun by American forces.”