Quantum (5 page)

JUNE 23

South Bend, Indiana

Krasny adín?
Dmitri puzzled over Vanya’s urgent warning in his mind.

Yuri, the radioman, sent two more rapid clicks and waited.

No reply.

Yuri looked over at Dmitri, the team leader, and shook his head.

Dmitri knew that things went wrong on missions – it was a fact of life. The Americans had a name for this phenomenon: Murphy’s Law. He’d lost radio contact with men before; nine times out of ten it was an equipment failure. But Vanya had broken radio silence and called out
Krasny adín
– Red One – alerting them that his position was under attack. Now Vanya was off the air, and his brief warning had stopped Dmitri and the rest of the team just as they got off the freight elevator.

Dmitri carefully moved to a window that overlooked the rear of Nieuwland Hall. Below, he saw the trailer extending from the loading dock and, in the far corner of the paved lot, a black Mercedes truck. The scene appeared just as they had left it moments ago. Other than a few people walking on the campus pathways, he saw nothing to indicate that their mission had been discovered, nothing that would cause Vanya to report that he was under attack.

‘I don’t see anything,’ Dmitri said quietly, wishing he could, ‘but Vanya’s position is almost beneath us.’

His men were all professionals; each had served under him in the Spetsnaz, the Red Army’s elite special warfare unit. He’d handpicked them for this private operations force when paychecks in the Russian military became scarce. Today, they were well-paid and well-equipped mercenaries in the employ of Victor Orlov.

Dmitri scratched at the stubble on his chin. A gritty film of dried sweat covered his muscled frame, the result of moving dozens of heavy boxes containing the equipment, books, and experimental documentation that he had been sent to retrieve.

‘You want me to go check on Vanya?’ Josef asked.

Dmitri pondered the question, then shook his head at the swarthy, black-haired Georgian.
‘Nyet.
We proceed as planned, but stay alert. It may be nothing more than garbled communications and equipment failure.’

‘If not?’

‘If not, Josef, then I want you here with the rest of the unit.’ Leskov turned toward the two movers watching the hallway. ‘How’s it look, Pavel?’

‘Clear,’ Pavel replied confidently. Not so much as a shadow had moved in the empty hallway.

Dmitri smiled, proud of the professionalism his younger brother displayed. Pavel was on point, checking the path ahead as the unit moved forward.

‘Move out,’ Dmitri ordered.

Pavel strode into the hallway, followed by Yuri and Dmitri, who guided a flat four-wheeled cart. Josef took up position a few steps behind the others, covering the unit’s rear. Sandstrom’s lab was down at the far end of the corridor.

‘This looks like the last of it,’ Dmitri announced as they entered the lab, his English flawlessly Middle American.

Dmitri’s men spread out, moving toward the last remaining boxes. Paramo was seated in a chair near where Kelsey stood by the windows; Sandstrom sat up on a lab bench, reclining back on his elbows.

As he closed within ten feet of Sandstrom, Dmitri’s right hand deftly slipped to the holster nestled in the small of his back and drew his weapon. The muscles in his body coiled tightly as he gripped the Air Taser with both hands and fired.

Propelled by a charge of compressed nitrogen, two needlelike metal probes silently flew toward Sandstrom. In less than a tenth of a second, the twin probes tore through the physicist’s cotton shirt and struck his chest. A pulsating electrical current raced from Dmitri’s weapon, through the probes, into Sandstrom’s body.

Sandstrom shuddered involuntarily and fell back onto the lab bench. His head struck the thick black countertop with a muffled thud.

Across the room Yuri and Pavel’s attack mirrored that of their leader. Only the briefest change in expression on the faces of Kelsey and Paramo preceded their sudden incapacitation.

‘Josef,’ Dmitri called out.

‘Corridor is clear,’ the Georgian replied.

‘The man with the red hair, Kilkenny, he is missing. His truck is still parked by the loading dock. He must be somewhere in the building. Keep an eye out for him.’

As the Taser’s pulsating charge attacked Paramo’s nervous system, the aging physicist’s heartbeat became erratic. The muscle fluttered, struggling to find a steady rhythm until the already weakened organ stopped beating altogether.

‘I think I killed the old one,’ Pavel announced unemotionally. ‘He’s not shaking like the others.’

‘So much the better for him,’ Yuri replied. ‘Put those boxes on the cart while I set the explosives.’

Yuri pulled the quilted blanket off the cart, uncovering four pistols in shoulder holsters and a pair of sealed translucent bags, each containing about a quart of fluid. As Pavel loaded the last two boxes, Yuri picked up the two plastic bags and carefully placed them on the lab bench near the sink. He then closed the drain and turned on the water until the sink was about a third full.

‘Ready,’ Yuri announced.

Dmitri looked at his watch. ‘On my mark.’ The second hand swept closer to twelve. ‘Now.’

Yuri placed the light-colored bag into the water first, followed by the darker bag. Tiny bubbles immediately began to form on the surface of the bags.

‘We have five minutes,’ Yuri announced as he hastily strapped on his shoulder holster and checked the Glock.

Dmitri nodded. ‘Pavel,’ he said, handing his brother one of the silenced pistols, ‘take the point.’

JUNE 23

South Bend, Indiana

Kilkenny carefully worked his way back into Nieuwland Hall and up the building’s center staircase. He encountered no one during his ascent to the second floor. On the landing, he cautiously peered through the slit window of wiremesh glass in the fire door. The hallway on the other side was empty, but the window was too narrow to provide a view of Sandstrom’s lab farther down the hall.

Slowly Kilkenny pulled open the fire door until a quarter-inch gap appeared. Sandstrom’s lab was on the same side of the corridor as the stairwell, so he studied the reflection in the glass doors of a display case on the opposite wall. There he saw one of the movers standing watch beside the lab door.

He had to assume that Kelsey, Sandstrom, and Paramo were in the lab with four armed men. For the sake of the two physicists and the woman he loved, Kilkenny focused on the situation at hand rather than trying to fathom the motive behind it.

The faint hiss of static filled his right ear, as it had for the past several minutes. Unable to raise their man on the loading dock, the Russians had gone off the air completely.

The reflected image in the glass moved as the man in the doorway stepped back into the lab. Another man appeared and moved out into the corridor. He moved cautiously. Visually sweeping the entire length of the corridor, he held a suppressed semi-automatic pistol pointed low in a two-handed grip.

Kilkenny flattened himself against the painted cinder-block wall and slowly closed the fire door. It slid quietly into its frame. As he released the handle, the mortised latch bolts in the head and toe of the door slid home with a metallic click.

Pavel had just raised his hand to motion the rest of the unit forward when he heard the sound of the closing door. He signaled for Dmitri and the others to remain in place while he investigated.

‘Damn!’ Kilkenny cursed under his breath, knowing that the errant sound had exposed his position. He quickly moved against the wall, out of view through the slit window.

A shadow flickered in the thin strip of light beneath the stairwell door, catching Pavel’s trained eye. He moved along the wall, approaching the door from the side. With his back against the wall, Pavel inched forward until his shoulder reached the edge of the door.

He adjusted his grip on the Glock and folded his arms close to his chest as he filled his lungs with air. Exhaling with a low, throaty growl, he stepped forward, spun around, and struck the door with a vicious kick. The panic bar slammed into the hollow metal skin of the door, releasing the latch bolts. The door sprang open, and Pavel lunged into the stairwell.

As the Russian leveled his weapon, Kilkenny swung his left arm down in a sharp block that drove Pavel’s forearms toward the floor. He then wrapped his hand tightly around the barrel of the Glock. Pavel squeezed the trigger.

Click.

Kilkenny smothered the action of the Glock with his grip. He then brought the muzzle of his own pistol against the side of Pavel’s head and fired twice. Blood and bone exploded against the gray metal door.

Pavel shuddered and collapsed to the floor. Kilkenny quickly scanned the hallway for more threats, then retreated down the stairwell.

JUNE 23

South Bend, Indiana

Pavel’s offensive was over almost as soon as it started. Two muffled shots and then silence. Dmitri moved to the stairwell and found the door held ajar by the body of his dead brother. He quickly shut down the rage he felt, knowing he still had a mission to complete. There would be time to mourn, and to seek revenge.

‘Pavel’s dead,’ Dmitri said quietly as he went back into the lab. ‘Yuri, time?’

‘Three minutes, forty-five seconds,’ the explosives expert replied.

Lying atop the lab bench, Sandstrom groaned and tried to lift his head. Kelsey began to stir as well. It took several minutes to recover fully from a Taser’s shock, more time than anyone remaining in the lab possessed. Paramo lay motionless on the vinyl-tile floor, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

‘Put the woman on the cart,’ Leskov ordered, his mind sifting through his options. ‘We may need a hostage.’

Yuri and Josef grabbed Kelsey by the legs and shoulders, quickly loaded her onto the four-wheeled cart. Leskov turned the pistol in his hand and struck Sandstrom in the side of the head; the groggy physicist fell to the floor, unconscious. He would be left for dead.

‘Three minutes, Dmitri,’ Yuri called out.

Inside the lab sink, the skin of the first bag ruptured and its contents slowly leaked to form a thick layer along the basin.

‘I’ll take the point,’ Leskov announced. ‘Yuri, take the cart.’

‘And I’ll cover our backsides,’ Josef said, a mouthful of bad teeth smiling beneath his thick black mustache.

With Kelsey as hostage, the Russians carefully moved into the corridor, wary of who or what might be lying in wait. Leskov held up his hand when he reached the stair-well door, halting his men. He then pointed at Yuri and, with two fingers, motioned for his comrade to join him by the door.

‘When I open the door, pull Pavel’s body in.’

Yuri nodded. This was not a matter of sentimentality on his leader’s part; it was simply the law in the world of special warfare that, dead or alive, no man is ever left behind.

Leskov braced himself against the wall on the hinge side and pushed the door open with a backward sweep of his hand. Crouching, Yuri reached forward and grasped Pavel’s leg. He took two steps back, dragging the young soldier’s lifeless body through the doorway as a slick red stain spread from the open wound in the side of Pavel’s head.

Leskov stepped through the doorway and found the stairwell deserted. ‘It’s clear.’

‘Dmitri, do you see his pistol?’ Yuri asked, looking down at Pavel’s empty hands.

‘
Nyet
, his attacker must have taken it. Put Pavel on the cart. We have to get out of here.’

JUNE 23

South Bend, Indiana

After the shoot-out in the stairwell, Kilkenny fell back to regroup. The loading dock was empty when he reached it, save for the body of the man he’d killed earlier.

A bell sounded nearby, indicating that the service elevator had descended to the main floor. Kilkenny searched for a place to position himself.

High ground
, he thought when he looked up at the roof of the semi’s trailer.

Kilkenny latched one of the rear doors closed, clambered up the thick steel hinges, and pulled himself onto the corrugated roof. Peering just over the edge, he saw the lead man emerge from the doorway. The man swept left to right, weapon held before him, seeking targets. He then checked behind the truck. Satisfied the dock was clear, he motioned for the others to move forward.

A cart rolled through the doorway, guided from behind by one of the Russians. The last man emerged a moment later. Glancing down at the cart, Kilkenny saw the body of the man he had shot in the stairwell and, beneath the body, Kelsey. His heart sank, then Kelsey’s arm twitched and her fist clenched.

‘Josef, get the truck started,’ Leskov commanded, anxious for this mission’s end. ‘Yuri and I will finish loading.’

Leskov and Yuri holstered their weapons and carried the two remaining boxes into the truck. The starter ground for a moment, then the diesel engine roared to life, belching gritty exhaust into the air. With the greatest respect, Leskov wrapped his brother’s body in one of the quilted moving blankets and gently laid it inside the trailer. Yuri repeated the gesture with Vanya, the other casualty of the day.

‘Dmitri, what do we do with the woman?’ Yuri asked.

‘Kill her. Put her body in the back with Pavel and Vanya. We’ll get rid of it later.’

Kilkenny listened as the lead man issued orders in Russian. Then the diesel engine growled, and a thick black cloud of exhaust wafted over him. As the truck idled, the trailer’s roof vibrated beneath him.

Below, he saw Yuri reaching for his holstered pistol. Kilkenny swung his arms over the edge of the trailer and grasped his weapon with both hands. Aiming down at Yuri, Kilkenny fired two rounds from the elongated
Glock
that instantaneously penetrated the man’s skull. Yuri’s head snapped sideways and he collapsed where he stood, his pistol clattering on the concrete dock.

Instinctively, Leskov leapt off the dock, seeking cover. Two more rounds chased after him, chiseling holes in the concrete where he had stood. He had gotten only a brief look at the shooter, but he recognized him immediately. With three of his men dead, Leskov knew that Nolan Kilkenny was more than had been reported to him.

Leskov grabbed the short ladder on the passenger side of the semi and pulled himself up to the window.

‘Josef, Kilkenny is on top of the trailer. He’s killed Yuri. Cover your side of the truck and meet me at the dock.’

Josef nodded, pulled out his pistol, and checked the mirrors – his side of the truck was clear.

Kilkenny slid over the edge and dropped down, almost landing atop the man he’d just shot. Crouching with the Glock extended at eye level, he scanned the dock for targets. It was clear.

Time to haul ass, Kilkenny thought as he chambered a round, then popped the half-spent clip out of the Glock and slipped in a full one.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the edges of the trailer, Kilkenny grasped the abandoned cart with his left hand and pushed. But one of the turning wheels was jammed in place, stubbornly refusing to rotate into position. Kilkenny furiously kicked the cart twice before the wheel freed up and began rolling smoothly. Once through the doorway, he pulled the double doors closed, then turned down a corridor, hopefully bringing Kelsey toward safety.

As if their timing were choreographed, Leskov and Josef reached the rear of the trailer simultaneously and, with their weapons poised, swept the dock for a target. Kilkenny and the woman were gone – the wide double doors that led into Nieuwland Science Hall were closed. Only Yuri remained, facedown in a growing pool of his own blood.

‘Get Yuri,’ Leskov ordered. ‘I’ll cover you.’

Leskov pulled himself onto the dock and took position beside the doors. Josef holstered his pistol, released the catch on the open trailer door, and hoisted himself onto the dock. Quickly, with little consideration for the dead, other than he didn’t wish to join them, Josef hefted Yuri’s body atop the others and latched the trailer door shut. Josef then slipped the U-shaped bolt of a padlock through the door latch and shut it.

‘Done. Let’s get away from this fucking place.’