From Filth & Mud (20 page)

Alexi and Dima split up and attempted to find her. Dima spotted her entering a small apartment building just a few blocks away from the club, and followed her inside after waiting a few moments to avoid her picking up on his tail. He caught up in time to see her walk up to a second floor apartment. Dima exited the building and found Alexi a few minutes later.

The two men surveilled the building around the clock for several days, but there was no sight of the girl. Alexi had started having his doubts. He couldn’t be sure that she hadn’t just left the building during the few minutes that Dima left to find him. Dima was reckless in many ways, but he excelled at tracking people and remaining undetected, so he had earned the benefit of the doubt. They got their break two days later.

“Right there, Alexi! I see her.” Dima radioed him from a small market located across the street of the girl’s apartment building. Alexi sat upright in the Lada, and sure enough the girl was walking out of her building. She walked for several blocks before hailing a cab. The men followed the cab and its passenger onto the M5 motorway. After a few miles of travel, the cab pulled onto the Domodedovo International Airport exit. The cab stopped in front of the Aeroflot terminal where the girl dismounted.

Dima walked inside the terminal and informed Alexi that the girl had purchased a ticket for an Aeroflot flight to San Francisco. Alexi contacted PRYAMO’s information division and requested the manifest for the flight. All of the passenger names were read to him moments later, to include a late arrival, one
Yulia Annikova—Cute!
Their girl had a sense of humor.

Dima exited the airport and jumped into Alexi’s waiting car. The two agents drove to the deserted landing strip where they had touched down just a few days earlier and boarded a small jet destined for San Francisco.

- - - - - - -

Aiden boarded his jet and was immediately relieved to be in the familiar confines. The pilot and co-pilot greeted him at the cabin entryway as the wind howled through, instantly chilling the air inside.

“I want to be in the air and out of Russian airspace as soon as possible,” Aiden grumbled without returning their welcome. Two flight attendants emerged from the rear galley ready to take care of their patron. His coffee was brewed and his Baileys had been added. He grabbed his coffee and waved them off. He was not in the mood to indulge. He was angry and terrified. He had wasted precious time trying to hunt down a legend and ended up discovering an irreverent, petulant, pubescent girl who had made him feel old, dirty, and dumb. To make matters worse, he had endured all of that humiliation, and was returning home empty-handed. He had been subjected to round-the-clock surveillance since landing in Moscow by the FSB, who had sent a particularly sadistic agent to be his tormentor. Aiden just wanted to fly away in the direction that would take him out of the country as fast as possible.

His thoughts were interrupted by the co-pilot who approached hesitantly, “Sir, we should be ready to depart here momentarily. Ten minutes tops. We will be in the air and out of Russian airspace within the hour.” He paused, his tone hushed as to not share his next words with the two flight attendants, “Sir, it appears that there is a rather important message for you from home. A young lady walked into the office this morning claiming to be your daughter. Security would have escorted her off of the property, but she left some pretty graphic photographs of you with building security. The entire thing seems rather strange and she has asked to stay until your arrival. She is waiting for you.

Aiden smiled much to the co-pilot’s surprise. “Get us out of here ASAP!” It appeared that his fox was already in the hen house.

Dawn broke over Chesapeake Bay on a foggy Sunday morning. The clouds billowed low upon the frigid, gray waters of the mid-October morning. Jacob had taken the opportunity to take the family out to the beach one last time before the deep cold of the late fall set in. Nathan had been up with a migraine most of the night, and Sarah was worried because the poor kid had been having headaches off and on for the last couple of weeks. There were no other symptoms, but he too, had started worrying. He and Sarah had finally acquiesced to their fears, and had scheduled Nathan to see a neurologist the next week. It was probably nothing, but it made them feel better just to be sure.

Jacob sipped his coffee slowly, enjoying the peacefulness of the crisp, gloomy autumn morning. The bay window view came courtesy of XPS. The quaint, rustic, wooden, cape-style, cottage provided a little retreat for team members and their families. The house had no winter heat so plenty of warm blankets were needed on these frigid nights. They had bundled themselves in as many as they could find, and had huddled around their nightly bonfire until its embers dwindled and the cold overcame them. Sarah pointed out to the endless sea of stars that twinkled high overhead just as she had done in Okinawa. Luke and Nathan rested their heads on her lap, battling the sleep that threatened to overtake them with every subsequent yawn. They were intrigued by their mother’s stories as she traced the constellations above.

The floor creaked with Sarah’s footsteps. She came up behind him and enveloped him in a white-linen, down comforter. Her breasts pressed him softly while she nuzzled his neck, anxiously coaxing him to come back to bed.

“The boys won’t be up for another hour or so. We have a little bit of time to ourselves. What are you doing up so early?” She whispered flirtatiously as she put her hands down his boxer briefs.

“Just couldn’t sleep. It’s beautiful and eerie out there.” He pointed out toward the bay which was still blanketed by a foggy mist.

“Is that what kept you up, the weather?” Sarah nuzzled his neck with additional vigor and nibbled his earlobe. “Come to bed. You won’t be sorry,” she said squeezing her hands tightly around him.

“It’s just tomorrow’s job. I’m going to be away for a few days and I really want to spend more time here at the beach with you guys. Plus, I’m not looking forward to going to Montreal for this job. It’s cold and rainy up there and they’re so
French
.”

“Oh, French now? Is that a thing of yours?” Sarah mocked his concern.

He smiled back. “I just don’t want to leave you three alone. You know Nathan isn’t feeling well and that has me worried a little bit.”

Sarah responded, “Nathan is fine. I’m sure it’s just a virus and we are totally overreacting. Look, you concentrate on your job in Montreal, and when you are done maybe you can go see a naked dancing girl show, you know how the
French
are!” Sarah squeezed down hard on Jacob and pulled him on top of her onto the cold, wooden kitchen floor.

- - - - - - -

              Jacob departed the cottage early the next morning. The beauty of Chesapeake Bay slowly faded in his rearview mirror as he began the long drive to Roanoke. He pulled in front of the barracks a little before noon. The facility was as deserted as he had ever seen it, though it was hardly ever bustling. It was a glorified gun range, serving as a pit stop for most teams while they transitioned between assignments, but today its silence was all-consuming. Jacob glanced at his watch. It would be three hours before his team arrived, Doug loudly, with Tim in tow, leaving plenty of time to prepare his final walk-through.

“I knew I’d find you in here.” John’s voice broke the silence of Jacob’s barracks room, but not Jacob’s concentration. John shook his head and waited by the door.

“Why are you here so early? You’ve got some time before the briefing.” Jacob checked his watch. It was a little after two and it was unlike John to be anywhere early.

“I just wanted to stop in before you took off.” There was no grin. John was concerned. “Keep your head on a swivel on this one. Our client is transporting the same cargo as that Boston job, and I’d expect that our Russian guests might make another unexpected visit.”

“Do you expect trouble?” Jacob had his answer before he heard the reply.

“I don’t know. I just know that you’re going to be traveling through some pretty deserted terrain en route from Montreal, and these guys might know about it. This isn’t Boston, so they might be inclined to escalate the confrontation.”

“Do you have intel on this, or is this just a hunch?” Jacob pressed. “Maybe we should move this stateside?”

“We can’t do that with our client’s business partner. They have special needs and can’t be seen domestically,” John paused as if he’d said too much.

Jacob turned his gaze away from John and walked back toward his bunk where he had laid out his equipment; a few extra pair of socks and underwear, extra batteries for his NVGs and laser designator, extra rifle magazines, and his trusty Colt .45. “I won’t ask what those special needs are, John. You’d have told me already if you’d thought I’d want to know.”

John looked at the gear spread out on the bunk. He noted the Colt at the center of the display. “I’m guessing you didn’t let the XPS armorers near it?”

“Negative!”

“For the life of me I still don’t understand why you don’t upgrade to something more battle ready than that bulky hunk of metal in .45 ACP?”

Jacob sneered back, “Oh like your high-speed Beretta, or Glock, or Sig, or wait, what’s the flavor of the month in your tactical circles?”

John smiled, but concern still furrowed his brow. “Look seriously, watch yourself out there, and if you have to engage do so at your will. I’ll cover for you here. You take care of yourself and your guys. I’ll handle the politics and the repercussions.” Jacob nodded and John slapped the door, satisfied that he’d delivered the message.

Somewhere deep within his gut, Jacob sensed the coming battle.

- - - - - - -

Jacob and his team landed in Saint Jerome about forty miles west of Montreal on a small landing strip that was carved in the foothills of the vast countryside; one of many which dotted the landscape of southwest Quebec. These landing strips had become as popular here, within close proximity of the U.S. border, just as they had in northern Mexico, and for the very same reason. The mountain tops were already capped with snow, and the cold that hung low on the foothills embraced the men as they descended the aircraft’s steps to the icy tarmac below.

The men climbed into two SUVs and made their way to rendezvous with the client in Montreal. They settled in for the ride while Jacob summarized the plan for a final time. The last time that Jacob had seen Katerina, she was being whisked away to the interior of a freighter. He was frankly surprised that she would be involved in this operation, although she might not have had much choice in the matter—
money has a funny way of twisting people’s arms
. 

An hour later, Jacob dismounted the SUV and walked into the lobby of the Montreal Ritz-Carlton, Doug in tow. Katerina was sitting in the lobby shadowed by a severe looking escort.

“What’s the matter, Ms. Minakova, lost your faith in our services?” Jacob panned as he nodded to the gorilla behind her.

Katerina shrugged, “Insurance. That’s all.” The gorilla grunted in confirmation. “He’s been cleared by your company. I will bring him along.”

Jacob did not appreciate the surprise. He asked Tim to confirm the new addition, and as expected, Tim had already requested the clearance. A few uneasy minutes passed before Jacob nodded his head in begrudging approval. “Okay, he comes with us, but he doesn’t carry any weapons.” Jacob looked at the escort who unholstered his pistol and handed it to Doug.

Doug grabbed him forcefully by his outstretched arm, yanked it behind his back, threw him bodily into the wall, and searched him for additional weapons. “Cocksucker!” Doug pulled away from the man revealing another small pistol tucked in the waistband of his trousers. “I should smash your face for that!” Doug exclaimed, and palmed the back of his head forcefully into the wall. Though Doug used a fraction of his strength, it was enough for the message to get across. The man struggled momentarily while Doug continued his pat-down. Jacob looked at Katerina who averted her eyes angrily.

“Ms. Minakova, do you have any weapons that I need to know about?” Jacob asked in a bemused tone. Katerina parted her legs and reached high up her thighs, and produced a delicate, chrome-plated, Makarov pistol, which she handed sheepishly to Jacob. He unloaded the magazine and inspected it carefully. The pistol looked as if it had rolled off of the assembly line. It was lightly glazed in a sheen of factory lubricant. “It looks like you’ve never needed it before, and you certainly won’t have a need for it now.” She began to protest, but he interrupted. “Let’s not waste time debating; we have business to attend to.”

Doug led the way with the escort while Jacob brought up the rear with Katerina. She carried a case that she had handcuffed to her wrist. The plan was similar to the Boston operation. Katerina was to enter La Banque Internationale de Montreal and withdraw the property from the safe deposit box. Jacob and his team would escort her to Saguenay some 300 miles north. The team would drive five hours north through some of the most sparsely populated countryside in Quebec. The last eighty miles of the route took them through the Reserve fauniques des Laurentides national park. This was where Jacob expected contact from their Russian counterparts, if indeed they were being followed.

The operation proceeded smoothly through the pickup at the bank. Doug expertly weaved through Montreal’s morning traffic and made his way out of the city in the armored SUV. Jacob had requested XPS’ top-of-the-line up-armored SUVs for the mission. The SUVs included all of the ballistic and explosive protection of the other models, but these also included an offensive party piece that was likely to surprise any would-be attacker. He looked over his shoulder at the rear passenger seat, or at least where it should have been, and nodded to Tim who was sitting comfortably in a 360 degree swiveling turret. Attached to the turret, was a modified XM134 Minigun. The Minigun was a six-barreled, Gatling-style gun that fired 7.62 mm rounds at a firing rate of 4,000 rounds per minute. It had been modified to be ultra-lightweight for easy transportation. The rear seat carried several boxes of ammunition belts for the hungry, little beast. The second SUV in the convoy was equally equipped.

Jacob also ordered his team members to carry full-length HK416s for the mission. He wanted to ensure that if a firefight broke out that his team would have the hard-hitting capability and reliability of the assault-rifle platform, as well as a common ammunition type. Within his team alone, he usually had five different weapons systems and four different ammunition calibers. He favored his standard 20-inch barreled HK416 in 5.56 mm, Tim always carried his M40-A5 in 7.62 x 51 mm, Doug sported a 14-inch barreled M4 in 5.56 mm with an attached 40 mm grenade launcher, Odin kitted his Knights Armament 10-inch barreled PDW in 6 x 35 mm, and Tanner carried his Bushmaster 16-inch barreled AR15 variant chambered in .300 Blackout, a specialty round that was damn near impossible to find, and which XPS refused to reimburse him for.

The team blurred past the monotonous miles of the Quebec countryside. They passed Quebec City nearly three hours into their drive to Saguenay. It was hard to keep focus after so many miles, but Jacob remained hyper-vigilant only allowing radio chatter for the frequent vehicle-to-vehicle status updates. He wished for a reconnaissance escort, but John had not been able to secure more resources for the mission. The up-armored SUVs would have to suffice. They were on their own in this remote location, though the isolation allowed them greater freedom to put down any resistance that they might encounter. Jacob scanned the roadside for IEDs, spike strips, or anything that hinted at an ambush.

Jacob looked down at the 12 inch screen on his lap. Nothing of interest caught his eye as the bird’s-eye-view images of the remote countryside scrolled by. The setup was little more than a child’s remote control gyrocopter, but for the high-tech microwave communication system, high-resolution camera, and the drone’s ability to fly up to 1,000 feet for an hour of flight time at a loitering speed of 70 mph. The little gyrocopter was controlled by a small tablet that he held in the palm of his hand. A live video feed streamed seamlessly to the screen. This was yet another in a long line of military surplus items that had found its way into XPS’ inventory—though it was probably more cutting edge than the equipment that front-line, U.S. military troops had access to. Every few miles, Jacob would order the convoy to slow to a steady 55 mph, and hand off the little drone to Tim who would launch it out of the turret. The drone would zip up to a 500-ft loitering ceiling and then zoom ahead of the two-vehicle convoy.

Jacob worked the controls which were less complicated than most flight simulator games that his boys played on their game-consoles. After several hours, nothing but miles of endless forest and Canadian countryside appeared on the screen. The frequent moose and deer crossing the desolate highway seemed to pose more danger to their mission than any Russians.

Doug had remained as gregarious as ever. He had even broken through Katerina’s icy demeanor and the two were soon chatting like old girlfriends. The cacophony of the conversation was shattered with a streaking swoosh of flickering flame that cut across the road in front of them. It left their retinas momentarily seared with a flash of light. The menacing apparition disappeared almost immediately. There was a millisecond of pause before the instant crash of an explosion shook the world around them. The burst of ear-splitting pressure erupted from the southbound lane of the two-lane highway. Dirt and gravel peppered the side of the SUV, but before he had time to gather his wits, another rocket-propelled-grenade swooshed loudly by. Doug slammed the brakes and darted the surprisingly nimble SUV across the yellow-lined median and into the southbound lane. The trail SUV followed suit in an evasive, serpentine motion. The reinforced tires howled underneath the intense lateral G-force, but they held the heavy vehicles to the pavement.