Sentinel (29 page)

Vitali said, “He’s still walking, same pace.”

Will replied, “I must be ahead of you by now. Let me know if he deviates from the road.” He reached the end of the route, broke left, and continued forward until he was back on the same street as the target. He stopped. “I’m at the end of the road.”

Laith said, “We’re halfway along it.”

Will started walking away from the team behind him.

“Target’s increasing pace.” Vitali’s voice was quiet. “William, I can see you, and we’re getting closer to your location. Increase speed.”

Will did so.

“Target moves through crossroads, keeps going straight.” Vitali’s voice grew louder. “Korina, we’re following the target toward Moskvoretskaya Naberezhnaya, on the river. Where are you?”

Korina answered, “On that road, close to the place your route joins it.”

Will said quickly, “Go east before he spots you.” He kept walking fast until he reached the main road and the adjacent Moskva River. “Roger, Markov: I’m turning west on the road. Start driving toward my location.”

He walked faster for a while and then slowed to his previous pace. Soon the target would reach the road and Will would know if he was continuing to walk behind him or had instead turned left toward Korina’s location. A Russian voice, amplified by a loudspeaker, barked close to him. Will froze, then turned to face the noise. Two powerful river police boats and one military gunboat sped along the river, knocking aside large sheets of ice that were floating on the surface. The Russian man speaking through the amplifier kept repeating the same sentence. Will looked at the various civilian vessels on the mighty river and saw that they were slowing. He understood what was happening. They were being told to berth, that only military and police boats were now allowed to use the route.

“Target’s turned left, heading east.” Laith’s voice was tense.

Will silently cursed and increased pace again as he said, “Markov, Roger: get to me fast. I need picking up.”

Roger answered, “On our way.”

Will mentally pictured the road map of Moscow he had earlier studied. “Korina, he’s heading toward the bridge at Sadovnicheskiy Proyezd. Are you east of that place?”

“Yes. I’ve parked, although I’m not sure how long I can remain static.”

“Do what you can. If he doesn’t go south on the river crossing, he’ll be coming toward your location. Roger, Markov: I need you here now.”

“We can see you.” Markov’s deep voice was controlled. “Start running, we’re going to have to pick you up at speed as there’s nowhere to safely stop on this route.”

Will did so. Cars passed him, but none of them belonged to his team.

“We’re three hundred feet behind you . . . now two hundred . . . now one hundred . . . now fifty . . . passenger door’s open . . . we’re slowing . . .” Markov paused. “Look left now.”

Will glanced to his side, saw the car and its open door, sprinted faster to keep up with it, and dived headfirst into the rear of the vehicle. Markov grabbed his arm and pulled him in. Roger thrust his foot down on the accelerator, causing the car to skid on a patch of ice before getting a grip and pulling away fast.

Will slammed the door. “Take the next bridge, then double back on the other side of the river so that we’re heading east and paralleling the target.”

Roger drove fast, taking them right up to the eastern tip of Red Square before turning onto the crossing to take them south, over the river. Once they were over the waterway, Roger turned left.

Will looked across the river. “We’re heading back toward you from the other side of the river. Where are you?”

Laith answered, “Target’s slowing down, on his cell again, about a hundred and fifty feet from Sadovnicheskiy Proyezd.” Laith went silent. “Hold, something’s happening.” More silence. “His phone’s stowed away. He’s stopped. Now he’s looking left and right along the road.”

“He’s going to cross it and take the bridge.” Will placed a hand on Roger’s shoulder. “We must be at the other side of the bridge before he gets on it.”

Roger accelerated harder, swerving expertly between two cars to overtake them.

Vitali spoke. “Target’s spotted a gap in traffic. He’s running over the road. If we follow him we’ll expose ourselves, as this isn’t a place pedestrians would normally cross.”

“Stay on your side of the road.” Will’s mind raced. “Korina, can you turn around?”

“Impossible on this main road. But I can abandon the car and get closer on foot.”

“No, stay with the car. It’s vital we retain one mobile unit on the north side of the river.” Will spoke to everyone. “Okay, we’ll take up point as soon as the target reaches the south end of the bridge. Once we know where he’s headed, I’ll update you so that we can adjust formation.”

“He’s on the northern end of the bridge.” Laith’s voice was quiet. “He’s slowed to a fast walk. We’re stationary now. He’s a hundred and fifty feet away from us. Bridge has got medium traffic in both directions. He walks onward.”

Will could see the bridge. Urgently, he asked Roger, “Can you stop anywhere here?”

“Difficult, but I’ll put my hazard lights on and fake a breakdown. If cops or other officials arrive, I’ll deal with it.”

Will nodded. “Vitali, Laith: update please.”

“He’s slowing”—Vitali paused—“he’s stopped halfway along the bridge.”

“Stopped?”

“Stopped. Now he’s looking around.”

Will’s heart raced. “Is his cell back out?”

“No.”

Roger pulled the vehicle onto the road’s hard shoulder. Will jumped out of the car, thrust a hand into his pocket, and gripped his handgun. Roger and Markov also exited the vehicle. Will glanced in the direction of the bridge. “Everyone, the bridge is the likely meeting point. Repeat, bridge is meeting point.” He darted a look at Markov. “Come with me. Roger, stay with the vehicle.”

Roger looked angry. “I should be with you.”

Will shook his head impatiently. “The chances of Taras doing a mobile pickup of the target are now very high. If that happens, you’re the only man south of the river who can tail him and take him down.
Everything
depends upon you staying with your vehicle.”

Roger smiled; his anger evaporated.

Will and Markov moved alongside the road until they were close to the bridge.

Laith said, “He remains stationary. He tries to light a cigarette.”

“I’ve got another pedestrian on the bridge.” This came from Vitali.

Will and Markov instantly stopped.

“He’s heading from the south side . . . big guy . . .” Vitali went quiet. His next words sounded confused. “He looks out of place . . . not right for this weather. He’s not wearing a coat.”

Will snapped, “Vehicle?”

“None, aside from civilian motors going back and forth on the bridge.”

Will sprinted, pulling out his gun. “It’s him! It’s him!” He pulled back the workings of his weapon. “Laith, Vitali: get closer to the bridge so that you’re ready for takedown, but stay out of sight of the target for now!”

Markov was running fast by his side, his handgun held at waist level.

Will reached the bridge and turned onto it. He saw cars, heavy snowfall, more military boats cruising along the river beneath him, and a man walking at a steady pace with his back to him, no more than two hundred feet away. Will stopped and grabbed Markov’s arm to bring him to a halt. “Wait, wait.”

The man reached the target and stopped right next to him.

“They look like they’re communicating.” Will held his fingers against his throat mic. “No other pedestrians are on this bridge. But why the hell is he here without a vehicle and without an overcoat?”

Vitali said, “We’re at the other end of the bridge. We see them both. They’re definitely talking. Big man pulls out something . . . can’t see what it is.”

“Nor can I,” Laith added.

“Big man places a hand on target’s shoulder . . .” Vitali sounded totally focused. “. . . target tries to shrug him off . . . tries to move away . . . big man pulls him closer . . . something in big man’s hand . . .”

In an instant Will knew what was happening. “It’s an assassination! Takedown now! Now!”

He sprinted along the bridge, ignoring oncoming civilian vehicles sounding their horns. His feet slipped on the snow and ice beneath them, but he kept upright and ran faster. Markov was right by his side, his gun now at eye level.

Will raised his weapon to shoot. He was only 150 feet away. As he did so, the big man spun to face him, using the sailor as a shield.

It was Razin.

In a flash, the Russian raised a handgun, firing three bullets at Will. One of the bullets sliced alongside Will’s face just as he and Markov dived behind a passing car that had come skidding to a halt. Getting to his feet, he could see the sailor beyond the car, lying on the ground; blood-saturated snow surrounded him. Beyond the dead body, Razin was sprinting away, dodging between cars.

Will and Markov chased. Markov shouted, “Vitali, Laith: he’s coming right toward you!”

They could catch only glimpses of Razin, too brief to get a clear shot. They heard two more shots from the other end of the bridge, followed by Vitali saying “Fuck!”

Reaching the end of the bridge, they saw Vitali on his knees, his face screwed up in pain, a hand clutching his leg. Laith was running along the river; he fired four shots.

“What happened?”

Vitali answered between clenched teeth. “It’s just a flesh wound, but it put me on my ass.”

“Okay, get to Roger. Markov, with me.”

Laith shouted in a near-breathless voice, “I’m moving east along the river’s north-side road. Can’t see him.”

Roger spoke, “I’ve abandoned my car and am also going east, checking the south bank.”

Korina said, “I’m on the north bank, about five hundred feet from your position. Six military trucks have just raced past me, heading toward the bridge.”

“Stay with your vehicle, Korina.” Will still needed at least one of his team to remain mobile.

“GRU! GRU!”

Will glanced toward Roger’s location on the south bank. “What’s happening?”

Silence.

“What’s happening?”

More silence.

Then gunfire.

“I’m”—Roger was screaming over the sound of rapid shots—“under attack! Cops and soldiers.”

Will saw flashes of light on the south bank; the noise of gunfire in his earpiece was now constant.

Korina shouted, “I can get mobile, drive ahead to find a turning place, then try to pick you up.”

“No!”

Vitali said, “I’m with Roger, we’re being pushed east.”

Will urgently looked ahead. He was sprinting as fast as he could, but he’d no idea if he was still on Razin’s trail. “Laith. Anything? I have no visual. Repeat, no visual!”

“Nothing.”

They’d lost him.

Frustration surged through Will. “Fuck! Fuck!” He continued running. “Laith, Markov: get across the next bridge and extract Roger and Vitali.”

“You can’t go after him on your own.”

“Just do it!”

Markov moved away from Will’s side and took the next river crossing. Moments later, Laith appeared on the bridge running at full pace, his gun held in one hand.

Will kept moving along the road.

Ten seconds later, Markov shouted, “We’re heading southeast on Sadovnicheskaya Ulitsa!”

Laith spoke. “Vitali, Roger: we’re on the south side of the river now. We should be close to you.”

Roger spoke over the sound of rifle shots and bursts of submachine-gun fire. “We’ve got about a hundred soldiers on our tail.” His words were strained; clearly he was in pain.

More heavy gunfire.

Laith shouted, “We can see you! You’re coming right toward us!”

Will stopped at a crossroad, frantically looking in every direction. This was hopeless. Razin had vanished.

“William.” Korina’s voice was full of despair. “Should I go to the team?”

Laith said, “We’re all together now. There’s too many of them. William, we’re going to draw them away from you by taking them south on Novokuznetskaya Ulitsa.”

Will cursed and continued running, keeping the river by his side.

“Changing magazines.” Roger was clearly running. “Last clip in. I’ll cover you all. Run behind me for twenty, then cover me while I move back.”

A few seconds later, Vitali shouted, “In position and covering you. Move!”

“Two more hostiles down, now three.” Laith spoke over the sound of three shots from his handgun.

Markov cursed. “More sirens, reinforcements.”

“Low on ammunition . . . last clip.” This was from Vitali.

Will stopped, his stomach sick with failure. “I’ve lost him. I’m coming to you.”

Roger responded immediately, “Get to Korina. Get out of the city.”

Will repeated, “I’m coming to you.”

“No, you’re damn well not! We’re surrounded on all sides now. You’d make no difference.”

Will pulled out his handgun. “Tell me your location. I’m coming for you.”

“No.”

“Tell me your location!”

Roger made a sound like a sigh; more shots rang out. “We’re on Novokuznetskaya Ulitsa. It’s about half a mile south of the bridge where Taras killed the sailor. But for God’s sake, don’t come”—rapid bursts of fire interrupted him—“stay away.”

Will moved onto the next bridge, ran across it, and headed south toward the gunfight. He ran along residential streets, commercial routes, and roads containing administrative buildings. Compacted snow covered the roads and sidewalks, and pedestrians cowered in doorways, hiding from the gun battle that was taking place farther ahead. Some of them stared at Will as he ran past them, making no effort to hide his handgun. The civilians looked terrified.

Will did not need a detailed knowledge of the city to know where he was going. He just followed the noise of the battle. “I’m very close now. When I see the hostiles, I’ll open fire and try to draw some of them away from you.”

“There’s too many of them.” Laith sounded exasperated. “We’re pinned down on all sides.”

The sounds of gunfire were now very close. Will slowed down as he approached the turning into Novokuznetskaya Ulitsa. Reaching the entrance to the street, he stopped and crouched next to a building. The place was swarming with troops and police, most using the cover of doorways and vehicles to fire at his team. Halfway along the street, he saw glimpses of the four-man CIA-GRU unit. They were about 250 feet away and were using whatever cover they could to return fire. Beyond them, more soldiers.