Vektor (40 page)

There were no high fives or “hooyahs” in the black SUV, just the sound of weapons magazines being changed and the quiet resignation that the hardest part of the mission still lay ahead of them.

PART FOUR

BLACK AND BLUE

Chapter 51

12:07 PM

White House Situation Room

Washington, D.C.

Thomas Manning held his breath, waiting for visual confirmation that the bioweapons laboratory had been destroyed. The National Reconnaissance Office had positioned two satellites in geostationary orbit over the area to provide detailed pictures of Vektor. They stared at two muted gray images of the facility on the bank of massive flat-screen monitors. One remained motionless, providing an overview of the Vektor campus, centered on the Virology compound. The second view shifted and magnified at the request of the CIA operations center. Right now, it remained focused on Blackjack’s vehicle in the parking lot. The massacred security team nearby was plainly visible to everyone.

“What are they waiting for?” Jacob Remy asked.

The first screen flashed to white momentarily before the infrared image settled back to what they had been watching seconds ago. The new image showed eight white-hot plumes surrounding the Virology compound.

“That,” Manning said and turned in his chair to face everyone. “Mr. President, Russia’s bioweapons program is officially offline.”

“Fantastic work, everyone,” the president said. “I hope this closes the book on a nasty chapter in modern human history. Biological weapons have no place in the world, and neither do the people who work to create them.”

“This should close that book for a long time, Mr. President,” the CIA director said. “With Vektor gone, the Iranians will experience a significant setback in their plans to enhance Iran’s biological weapons capability. This was the right call given the attack we suffered last month.”

“What are we looking at in terms of a local or regional response?” Remy asked.

Manning pressed a button on the touchscreen computer monitor imbedded in the table, opening the communication channel with CIA operations. He placed his headset on and adjusted the microphone.

“Karl, great work. That comes right from the top. Pass that along to the team when you get a chance. Has NSA picked up any unusual chatter yet?”

“Nothing yet, but I’m worried about one of the reports passed by the team a few minutes ago. One of our operatives intercepted a call meant for the security guards at Building Six, alerting them to a possible terrorist threat. That’s why we had a flurry of security activity during their last few minutes at Vektor. The head of security, Alexei Ivkin, apparently received an unconfirmed intelligence report regarding the threat. This can’t be a coincidence. Someone figured out what we’re doing,” Berg said.

“But they were too late.”

“Too late to save Vektor, but this doesn’t bode well for Blackjack. Whoever called this in isn’t connected to the Russian Federal Security Service. Trust me on that. I’m guessing high-level SVR. If they know, you can rest guaranteed that Putin knows. This could get ugly. We need to get Black Magic to the holding area.”

“I’ll let General Gordon know,” Manning said and removed the headphones.

“Is everything all right, Thomas?” the president asked.

“Everything is fine, Mr. President. NSA has not picked up any unusual communications chatter, but it’s early. The team is en route to their first checkpoint, where they’ll hide the SUV used at Vektor and switch to two cars for the next leg of their journey. It looks like they’ve made a clean break from the facility,” he said, pointing up at the screen.

Both images had zoomed out far enough to encompass the entire Vektor campus and the immediate area surrounding it. Blackjack had just veered off the main road leading to Koltsovo, heading south through the trees, which partially hid the vehicle from the satellite’s cameras. In front of the Virology compound, two vehicles pulled up next to the dead security guards and their abandoned jeep. The road leading to the main gate remained empty.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll make a clean break from Russia,” the president said.

“It’s always possible that they could make it to the border undetected,” Manning replied, “but I’m not counting on it. General Gordon, we need to move Black Magic to Holding Area Alpha. If they continue to move undetected, they could be at the border sooner than we expected.”

He watched General Gordon’s reaction closely. Earlier this morning, Jacob Remy had pulled Gordon out of the Situation Room for a private conversation with the president. Manning knew this because he had excused himself to use the restroom and watched the combatant commander of U.S. Special Operations Command disappear into the president’s private office on the other side of the watch floor. This meant one thing to Manning. The president and his chief of staff wanted to privately clarify the rules of engagement for Gordon’s helicopters…or modify them.

“I’ll notify SOCOM immediately,” the general said.

He sensed a slight hesitation in Gordon’s response, which might have gone unnoticed under different circumstances. Manning’s request flowed through an additional filter in Gordon’s mind, which had caused a nearly imperceptible delay. He anticipated a problem if the Russians mobilized significant assets to locate Farrington’s team.

Chapter 52

11:23 PM

5 kilometers south of Koltsovo

Russian Federation

Richard Farrington scanned the road ahead for any signs of trouble. They would travel along this two-lane road through the Sovetskiy City District, at the far southern edge of Novosibirsk. The road connected with Highway M52, which was the most logical escape route out of Novosibirsk, leading south and feeding into several roads that pointed toward the nearby border with Kazakhstan. It would also be the first road that the Russians would scour to find them. Instead, they would cross the highway and continue west a few kilometers to the edge of the Novosibirsk Reservoir, where they would turn north and cross the Ob River at the dam responsible for the reservoir. Their second checkpoint lay several kilometers from the dam, along the northern shores of the reservoir. If they managed to cross the river undetected, they stood a solid chance of surviving the night.

The six operatives had separated into two nondescript, high-performance sedans at the first checkpoint. They traded their limited-range submachine guns for an assortment of compact, modern assault rifles equipped with the latest optics. Rucksacks filled with essential gear, along with weapons and ammunition, had been staged in each car. Each member of the team fulfilled a specific role and their gear had been distributed accordingly.

Farrington’s AK-107U was jammed against the door, resting under his right arm, where he could put it into action quickly if necessary. At this point, they were mainly concerned with a local police response, which he hoped they had successfully evaded by heading away from Koltsovo. Crossing the Sovetskiy City District would pose a risk, but most of the district consisted of businesses and housing complexes that supported the two universities situated within a few kilometers of each other. He didn’t expect any trouble they couldn’t handle.

A lone street lamp appeared in the distance, ahead of the lead car, as his sedan followed a tight curve and emerged from a stretch of tree-lined road. Grisha reported from the car thirty meters ahead.

“Approaching the first roundabout. Looks clear.”

“I see it. Take it slow,” Farrington said.

Once they cleared the rotary, they had six more kilometers until they reached another rotary on the outskirts of the city district. They would have to be careful after the second rotary. The roads twisted and turned throughout the city district, dead-ending in large apartment building complexes or university parking lots. Driving would be tedious and confusing, requiring several turns to navigate the poorly designed university area before finding the road that would take them across the highway.

His satellite phone activated, bathing the front seat in an orange glow. He retrieved the phone from the center console.

“Blackjack actual,” he answered.

“This is Berg. Sanderson wanted me to pass NSA intercepts directly. They caught a high-level transmission emanating from the Koltsovo area. Encryption conventions and codes phrases correlated to known Vympel protocols.”

“How long ago?” Farrington asked.

“One minute after Vektor burned. They must have a response team in the area. Watch your back,” Berg said.

It made sense. Vympel Spetsnaz units formed the backbone of the Federal Security Service’s counter-sabotage capability, tasked to protect key strategic installations across the Russian Federation. Major transportation centers, crucial industrial hubs and nuclear facilities fell under Vympel’s protective umbrella. Experts themselves in the art of sabotage and deep-penetration operations, Vympel operatives were among the most highly trained and lethal instruments in the Russian Federation’s current inventory.

“We’ll be looking over our backs all the way to the border. Any word on Black Magic?” Farrington said.

“They’ll arrive at Alpha within three hours and shut down until you’re closer to the border. Remember, Black Magic will RTB thirty minutes prior to sunrise. That gives you a little under five hours.”

“We won’t be posing for pictures along—”

Farrington stopped in mid-sentence. He’d detected something moving fast in his peripheral vision, headed toward the rotary from the right. A car on this road wasn’t cause for worry but something had triggered an internal alarm. He peered through the thick row of trees lining the road that dumped into the rotary from Koltsovo, wondering for a brief moment if he hadn’t imagined it. At the same time he detected the red glow of the brake lights in front of him, he saw it again, but this time closer to the intersection. His mind interpreted the danger within in instant. A large SUV, driving without headlights, was headed into the rotary at high speed.

***

Senior Warrant Officer Grigory Limonov gripped the ceiling handle above the front passenger window as his driver accelerated the UAZ Hunter into the rotary. His detachment of eight men had been woken by a direct alarm activated within Building Six at the Virology compound. All of their beepers sounded at once, triggering a prearranged response that brought all eight men together at the main intersection of Koltsovo within ten minutes. On the way to the rendezvous, he placed two phone calls.

The first call went to Vektor’s security director, Alexei Ivkin, who explained the situation. Deadly biological samples had been stolen from Building Six in a sophisticated operation, leaving several guards murdered and the basement of the building destroyed. Guards at Vektor reported seeing a single SUV speeding out of the gate.

He placed the next call to the Federal Security Service’s Center for Special Operations. The alarm set off in Vektor had already set things in motion at headquarters, and he was immediately transferred to a surprisingly senior government official. By the time he arrived at the intersection to join the detachment, Vympel Spetzgruppa “Victor Two Three” (V23) had its orders from Moscow: capture or kill the terrorists responsible for the attack. Retrieval of the stolen biological samples had not been mentioned, but was implied within the constructs of the primary order.

Since it was obvious that the terrorists’ vehicle had already passed through Koltsovo, he separated the detachment into two groups, sending one north along the road leading to the town of Baryshevo. If the terrorists planned to seek shelter in Russia’s third largest city, they would have to pass through Baryshevo. As soon as his operatives sped north, he alerted local authorities in the town, with the hope that they might be able to stop the terrorists. At the worst, they could buy his team some time. By his calculation, the terrorists had a twelve-minute head start.

He’d put his own car on the road leading south, in case the terrorists decided to connect with Highway M52 and flee in that direction. This was the less likely scenario in his mind, but he had to cover both directions without splitting the team too thin. When he first saw a set of headlights appear on the east-west road, heading to the rotary, he had a strong suspicion they had stumbled onto their suspects. As his SUV cleared the line of trees obscuring a clear view of the approaching vehicle, he had a sudden moment of doubt. Guards at Vektor had reported an SUV. This was a sedan.

He grabbed the wheel to yank them out of the way, but spotted a second, nearly identical car emerge from the same direction. Two cars speeding along a back road after 11:00 PM on a Sunday? He turned the wheel into the crash, adjusting the center point of their impact from the sedan’s engine block to the front passenger door. He needed to kill or incapacitate everyone in at least one of the cars to give his men a chance to succeed, even if it cost him his own life.

***

Farrington dropped the satellite phone and issued a quick warning to the lead car, which he could already tell would be pointless.

“Grisha. Contact right!”

The brake lights disappeared momentarily, giving him the false hope that they might accelerate past the speeding SUV. The rotary had slowed Grisha’s vehicle to one third of its original travel speed by that point, making it an easy target. In the orange glow of the single street lamp jutting from the center of the rotary, he helplessly watched the SUV “T-bone” the sedan with horrific results.

The two vehicles plowed into the grassy center of the traffic circle as one mass of warped steel and shattered glass. Misha braked hard and turned left, exposing the car’s right side to the wreck, in a semi-controlled slide that ended at the edge of the rotary. Anticipating Misha’s maneuver, Farrington had braced his assault rifle against the bottom of the open passenger window, trying to line up the weapon’s sights for a shot.