Sentinel (32 page)

He was desperate to pull the trigger.

Desperate to end this now.

But he had to wait.

Razin moved into one of the other buildings, and was now out of sight. Will relaxed his trigger finger. Glancing at Korina, he saw that her eyes were narrow, that she’d had her handgun trained on the man who’d murdered her father. He whispered, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

She replied between gritted teeth, “I don’t intend to.”

“Okay. Stay here to keep this side of the farmstead covered. I’m going to get to the other side.”

Korina remained motionless, her gun trained on the open ground before her.

Will rolled away from her, crawled a few meters back, got to his feet, and moved around the perimeter while keeping low and holding his rifle at eye level. Two minutes later, he was on the opposite side of the farmstead. Buildings blocked his view of Korina, but that didn’t matter because between them they now had all of the complex’s open ground covered. He lay flat on the thick snow and waited, large flakes now falling slowly onto his body.

Ten minutes passed.

All was silent.

Another ten minutes.

No sign of Razin.

Will decided he had to get closer to the building that Razin had entered. Cautiously he moved forward, swinging his gun left and right. He reached the hut, crouched, listened, but heard nothing save the sound of the icy wind. Moving forward ten feet, he was close to the door and saw that it opened inward and if locked could easily be kicked in. In all probability, he could enter the hut and drop Razin before the man could do anything about it, but nevertheless he wished he had a stun grenade to toss in there first. He moved to the edge of the door, stood up fully, and got ready to make the assault.

The impact from above was overwhelming. Will crumbled down, his body in shock, his shoulders in severe pain, his lungs locked. As his head smacked the ground, he saw the rapid movement of a large man close to him and understood what had happened. Razin had leapt on him from the roof of the hut. A boot kicked his face with sufficient force to roll his whole body over. Another banged into his ribs. Then Razin grabbed his hair with one hand and punched his other fist full force into the side of Will’s head. Will’s vision blurred; he felt nauseous. Razin pulled his fist back in preparation for another devastating punch. But before he could deliver the blow, Will slapped him in the throat, causing the Spetsnaz commander to gasp, bend closer toward Will, and clutch his hands against his gullet. Still on his back, Will head butted Razin in the face and began lashing out at the Russian with his legs and fists and all of the strength he could muster. Razin blocked some of the blows, screwed his face up in pain as others struck his face and torso, and rained his own punches down on Will.

This was hopeless.

They were killing each other.

Will grabbed Razin’s wrist and twisted, causing the Russian to fall to the ground by his side. Releasing his grip, Will kicked at the ground to force his body away from Razin. Both men quickly got to their feet and were about to get back into the fight when they stopped.

Engine noises. Drawing closer. Certainly vehicles. And one of them sounded like a truck.

Razin frowned, then peered straight at Will with a look of utter hostility. “Bastard!”

He turned and ran away, darting between buildings until he was out of sight.

Will didn’t pursue him. He didn’t need to. Instead he looked around, grabbed his discarded assault rifle, winced from the pain caused by the blows to his body, jogged to the perimeter, and moved along it until he was back alongside Korina.

She frowned as she stared at his bruised and bloody face. “You fought him? Where is he?”

Will ignored her questions.

The engine noises stopped.

A few seconds later there was movement.

Twelve men moved toward the farmstead from the vehicle track. All of them were wearing white combat clothes and balaclavas and had semiautomatic rifles held ready. They moved purposefully and silently toward the buildings. One of them was clearly their leader, communicating with the others via hand gestures. He sent three soldiers to the boathouse; they moved quickly across the open ground, their rifles held high. Two of them paused on either side of the door; the third stood back while pointing his weapon directly at the entrance. The door was opened, and one of the men entered, followed by another. Within seconds, they exited. The commander gestured to others in his team. Four of them approached one of the huts. The same drill. But they found nothing. The leader nodded at the other hut. The same four men moved to it and entered quickly.

Noise.

Shouting.

A shot.

Then another.

Three more soldiers rushed into the building. The commander and his remaining four men were motionless, each on one knee. Two of them ignored the hut while pointing their weapons at the barn; the other two had their guns trained on the hut containing the rest of the team.

A soldier jogged out of the hut, then swiveled around and pointed his rifle at the door. Another two emerged and stood to either side of the exit. A man inside the building called out. The commander shouted back to him.

It happened very fast. Soldiers rushed out, Razin was forced backward, one soldier had his fingers in Razin’s nostrils, three others were gripping his limbs. They dumped him in the center of the clearing before fanning out to form a circle around him, their rifles trained on his body.

The commander stood, walked toward Razin, and said in a loud voice, “Colonel Khmelnytsky. You are under arrest for suspected misuse of Russian military property.”

Will felt relief and joy overwhelm him.

Because his plan had worked.

His call this morning to Otto von Schiller telling the German that he was taking possession of the nuclear blueprints had prompted the SVR agent to immediately report it to his handlers. And Will had given him an exact time and location for the handover. The beacon in Razin’s car had been turned on. His location had corroborated Schiller’s intelligence. And men had immediately been deployed to arrest Razin before a British arms dealer walked off with vital documents.

Will hadn’t been able to physically defeat Razin.

But he had totally outsmarted him.

Chapter Forty

R
azin was on his knees, still in the center of the farmstead clearing. “You’re making a big mistake!”

The Spetsnaz commander took off his balaclava and ran his fingers through his blond hair.

Korina whispered, “Captain Zaytsey. Spetsnaz Vympel. I’ve done training courses with him.”

Zaytsey said, “Sir, we’re under orders to take you away for questioning.”

“Do you know who you’re talking to?!”

“Of course.” Zaytsey glanced at his men. “None of us takes pleasure in doing this to someone of your status.”

Razin started getting to his feet. Two of the soldiers stepped forward, shouting at him. But Zaytsey raised a hand. “Give him some dignity.” He looked at Razin. “Where are the blueprints?”

“What fucking blueprints?”

“You were here to meet a British arms dealer named Thomas Eden so that you could sell him blueprints of the nuclear devices you’ve been training with. We want them.”

Razin shook his head, anger vivid on his face. “I was never given any blueprints. Your commanders will know that.”

“They do, sir. We assume that you must have had an expert examine the bombs so that blueprints could secretly be drawn up.”

“This is outrageous!” Razin looked at the Spetsnaz men. “I’ll have you and your commanders court-martialed for this.”

The men stayed still.

Zaytsey pointed at Razin. “The order for your arrest was countersigned by General Platonov himself. The only man looking at a court-martial is you.” He held out his hand. “Sir, I’ll have your sidearm.”

“And I’ll have your head!”

“Your sidearm, sir.”

Razin hesitated.

“Sir!”

Slowly Razin removed his pistol from his holster and weighed it in his hand before thrusting it at Zaytsey. The commander took the weapon and tucked it in his jacket.

Razin placed his hands on his hips and looked at the men. All but Zaytsey still had their faces covered with balaclavas. “Which unit are you from?”

Zaytsey answered, “That’s classified.”

“Nothing’s classified from me!”

The commander stared at him, then nodded. “I suppose it makes no difference. We’re Vympel.”

“It makes
every
difference.” Anger was still evident in Razin’s voice, but he showed no signs of fear, his posture now one of a high-ranking officer addressing his men. “You should know that I used to be in Vympel before being given command of Alpha. We’re the same, and
we
do not sell Russian secrets.”

“If that’s true, you will be exonerated. But that decision will be made by more powerful men than me. We’re here simply to take you away.”

“Fools!”

“Sir, your Alpha men have been recalled and are being questioned. The beacons on the nuclear devices have been turned on. All of the bombs have been retrieved except one. We don’t know where it is because its beacon has been removed.”

Razin barked, “Removed or is faulty? Either way, I can help you retrieve it.”

“They think that’s the bomb that was dismantled so that the blueprints could be made.”

Sweat began to trickle down Will’s back. The fact that the beacon had been removed from the bomb meant that Razin must have planted it.

Slowly Razin turned fully, pausing to look at each man around him before returning his stare to Zaytsey. “You’ve all been tricked, and I think I know by whom.”

“Sir, if that’s the case, you must tell your superiors.”

Razin laughed. “Oh, I’ll tell those idiots everything. But right now you and your men need to know that I’ve captured the man I’m talking about. He’s an MI6 officer, one of the most powerful men in Western intelligence and certainly
our
biggest enemy. He’s been hunting me, and I’ve been hunting him. I got to him first. But this”—he swept an arm—“
farce
was no doubt his insurance; a way to make me look bad to the motherland.”

Zatsey moved closer. “Is he dead?”

Will tensed.

“No. I have him prisoner. But if I don’t return to him soon, there’s every chance he may escape.” He smiled. “Perhaps it would be better for you and your men to return to your barracks with the one man that every Russian intelligence agency has been chasing for decades, rather than”—he thumped his chest—“a man who will certainly be proven innocent and will make you and your soldiers look like a laughingstock within all of Spetsnaz.”

Captain Zaytsey’s eyes narrowed. “Where is he?”

Silence.

Then Razin nodded. Speaking loudly, he gave them a grid reference.

Korina grabbed Will’s arm and said urgently, “He’s winning them over!”

Will muttered, “I know.”

He crawled forward a few feet, tightened his finger around the trigger, and pointed his gun at the center of Razin’s skull.

He heard feet crunching over snow, clothes rustling, saw movement in his peripheral vision.

Too far away to be grabbed and pulled to the ground, Korina strode quickly out of the trees and into the clearing.

Will thought, No, Korina!

“Captain Zaytsey.” Her voice was loud. “Major Tsvetaeva, GRU.”

Four of the Spetsnaz men spun around and pointed their guns at the approaching woman.

“We’ve trained together. An interrogation course a year ago.” She kept walking. “Colonel Khmelnytsky is lying to you about the bomb.”

Zaytsey frowned. “Yes, I remember you, Major Tsvetaeva. What the hell’s going on?”

She went right up to the captain and Razin and pointed behind her. “There are dead people in the barn. Khmelnytsky murdered them. Check their identities. I suspect you’ll find they are high-ranking Russian officials.”

Razin spat. “More like traitors!”

“You’re the traitor, Khmelnytsky!” Korina looked back at Zaytsey. “This is worse than you think. Please check.”

Zaytsey looked doubtful, but he gestured to two of his men, who walked off toward the barn.

More sweat trickled down Will’s back. He had to stay hidden, keep his gun trained on Razin. If he could have stopped Korina going out there he would have, though he understood why she’d done so. But everything now depended upon her ability to ensure that the men carried out their orders.

A minute later, the two men returned and spoke quietly to their commander.

Zaytsey looked at Razin. “An air force colonel and a senior government official. Both natives of this country. You killed them?”

Razin stepped closer to the captain and Korina. “They were MI6 agents, run by the man I captured.”

Will adjusted his position slightly. Korina had her back to him and was partially obscuring his view of Razin, though he still had an easy head shot available.

Razin smiled while looking at Korina. “And they’re not the only MI6 agents I’ve been looking for. There’s one more. And I think”—he looked toward the perimeter—“that person’s been getting help from another MI6 officer.”

Korina interjected in a loud, urgent voice, “Captain—the bomb. Khmelnytsky plans to use it to—”

She became silent.

Something was wrong.

Zaytsey shouted.

His men moved quickly toward him.

Korina fell back toward the ground.

With a large knife stuck in her chest.

Will’s stomach wrenched; he gritted his teeth.

No! No! No!

Soldiers grabbed Razin.

No!

He was thrown down.

No!

Will banged a fist into the ground, disbelief overwhelming him.

Captain Zaytsey knelt down by Korina. She was motionless. He placed a hand against her throat, fingers against her wrist, then placed his ear to her heart. Rising slowly, he shook his head, moved to Razin’s facedown body, and said to the men holding him, “Let him go!”

They moved away.

Zaytsey stood over him. “She’s dead.”