by Rob Jones
Ryan shrugged his shoulders and pushed his hands into his pockets before turning to Lea. “And I think you mean it could freeze the nuts on a brass monkey.”
“Don’t tell me what I mean! I meant off so I said off.”
“But that doesn’t make sense,” Ryan said. “The point is that it’s so cold that it would freeze the balls currently on any given brass monkey.”
“What? No! I’m saying it’s so cold it could freeze its damned balls right off, you eejit.”
Hawke opened his mouth to throw in his contribution, when Lea gave him one of her patented warning looks, a look which in this case was cold enough to freeze the balls either on or off him, depending on your preference. He shut his mouth without saying a word and they made their way to the car park.
Behind them, Dempsey, and his two men Dave Phillips and Frank Zimmerman tried to make themselves look like ordinary tourists instead of a trio of former Green Berets on a covert operation deep inside Russian territory.
As Jack Brooke had promised, there was a black Audi Q7 SUV waiting for them in the car park, and Dempsey used the remote to blip open the doors. Without a second glance he opened the rear hatch and nodded appreciatively as he inspected what Hawke could see was a mini-arsenal of weapons. Apparently, being the American Defense Secretary opened doors shut to the rest of the world.
The Audi pulled away and Hawke watched the sad Soviet-era concrete and glass architecture of Domodedovo recede into the distance as they headed toward the Moscow Oblast.
A short drive later they were pulling up outside the perimeter fence of Vetrov’s dacha and Hawke couldn’t wait to start shooting. It was time for the fight-back from hell.
*
Scarlet watched Lexi closely as she filled out the paperwork and accessed the safety deposit box in the Berliner Bank. The Chinese assassin opened the box and Scarlet and Karlsson got their first view of the notorious map.
“I was disappointed when I saw that portrait back in Shanghai,” Scarlet said. “But this is even more boring. I can hardly believe all the trouble there’s been over it.”
Karlsson agreed, and nodded his head. “I was expecting a treasure map, not… this.”
Lexi smirked. “That’s just what I thought. I also expected…well – a map, so you can imagine my disappointment when I first saw it.”
“Just as well you couldn’t read it, eh?” Scarlet said. “Or you’d be halfway to the elixir and we’d be twiddling our thumbs in London.”
“That’s not fair!” Lexi said. “I told you, they forced me to hand over the map.”
“Save it for someone who gives a damn, darling,” Scarlet said, as she studied the map. She was looking at a small document made from some kind of papyrus. It was covered in what looked a little like Egyptian hieroglyphics and other strange symbols which she thought could denote some kind of territorial position, but deciphering squiggles wasn’t her thing. That was what the boy was for.
Karlsson glanced at his watch. “I hate to break up what could be an interesting little cat fight, ladies, but we’re going to need to get back to the car and get out of here.”
Scarlet nodded. “Brad’s right. We need to report to Eden and get this thing somewhere safe.”
They made their way through the bustling lobby of the bank and to the car park, where they climbed into the big Beamer and belted up. Brad drove out of the car park and into the Berlin traffic.
“Something’s not right,” he said, checking the rear-view mirror.
“Oh great,” Lexi said. “A tail?”
Karlsson nodded.
“Easy, darling,” Scarlet said with a smirk. “I’m sure we can persuade whoever it is to go and find someone else to play with.” As she spoke, she opened the glove compartment and pulled out a box of nine mil bullets. “I suspect it’s the chap who almost got the better of you at the airport.” She began to load the bullets into her gun.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Lexi said, as Brad checked the mirror again.
“We’re off,” Brad said, and accelerated across into the left-hand lane.
“They’re closing?”
“Uh-huh. Big Merc.”
Scarlet laughed. “How original. Do these guys have a contract with Mercedes or something?”
“It looks like a hijacked cab, actually, but it sure as shit ain’t driving like a cab.” He turned to Lexi. “I’d say this Kodiak guy has been on our tail waiting for a chance to snatch the map and I guess some local cab driver just got unlucky today.”
Karlsson tucked in tight just in front of a large removals truck and kept an eye on the Merc taxi that was now trailing only two or three cars behind them. He pulled out a little to get a better view and saw the driver of the Merc was loading what looked like a pump-action shotgun.
“Better get ready for some action,” the former Seal said.
Scarlet raised an eyebrow and gently ran her hand down his thigh. “Why, are you feeling horny, Brad?”
“If I were, kitten, you’d already know it.”
Lexi rolled her eyes. “Now? Really?”
Scarlet ignored her. “In that case, I guess our tail is upping the ante…” She leaned forward and looked in her side mirror. The removals truck signalled to exit the road and now the Merc raced up behind them.
“Ah shit!” Karlsson muttered.
A white muzzle flash behind them was followed a second later by the sound of the car’s rear being peppered with shotgun pellets. The rear window shattered into thousands of pieces and Karlsson swerved hard into the adjoining lane to avoid a second shot. With his heavy hands gripping the wheel, the American floored the throttle and changed up through the ZF eight-speed box.
“Listen to that three liter turbo,” Karlsson said. “Purring like a lioness.”
“If we get out of this, Brad, we must make sure you and this car get some alone time.”
“Very funny…”
“We’re like sitting ducks on this damned street!” Lexi said, ignoring the banter.
Scarlet leaned out her window and fired three well-aimed shots from the Sig.
“Thanks for the warning!” Karlsson said, rubbing his ear.
“Don’t be such a baby, Bradley,” Scarlet said, and fired another shot. The Merc saw it coming and ducked in behind traffic.
“Damn it!” she said. “Lexi’s right. We need to get off this street so they have nowhere to hide.”
Karlsson weaved through the traffic with an ease and confidence that impressed Scarlet, not that she would ever have told him that. “I think we’re going that way!” He pointed to a side-street and skidded dangerously over two lanes to make it.
A quick check in the rear-view and it was clear more action was needed. The Merc was also leaving the main street and closing the gap on them. Worse, the driver with the shotgun was reloading and preparing to take another shot. They were now in a more built-up area with people walking along the sidewalks, exercising dogs and jogging with their iPods.
“What now?”
“Keep going,” Scarlet said. “There’s a quiet stretch ahead without any people on the pavements. I’ll take them out then.”
“You’re pretty confident.”
“I’m pretty and confident, darling,” Scarlet said, sliding around in her seat and leaning out of the window once again. She coolly aimed the Sig at the Merc, compensating for the drift of the cars and the uneven road surface as best as she could before firing a single shot at their pursuer.
Karlsson turned his head to check the mirror just in time to see Scarlet’s shots hitting the pursuit car. The Merc’s front tire blew out and sent the car screeching uncontrollably all over the road.
Scarlet smiled as she watched the man struggling to bring his vehicle back under control. He fought against the drag of the blown tire for a few seconds but lost the fight, plowing uncontrollably through a stack of boxes being delivered to a local store and spraying oranges and lemons into the air like confetti.
Scarlet pu
t the gun in the side pocket, sure her work was done, while Karlsson took advantage and accelerated hard along the street.
Behind them in the chaos, the car-jacked Merc came to a juddering halt, skidding so its side was now facing the traffic. Undeterred, Kodiak lowered the window, leaned the barrel of the shotgun on the top of the door and fired.
A second later Brad was fighting was for control of the BMW. They mounted the sidewalk and a woman walking two cockapoos on sparkly pink leashes leaped for her life to avoid the Beamer. After a few seconds Brad brought the powerful car back under control.
“What the hell just happened?” Lexi asked, nervous.
“Bastard got us,” Karlsson said. “Feels like the rear tire’s out.”
The wounded Beamer squealed to a noisy, whining stop, its rear driver’s-side panel spinning around and smashing into a parked Honda and setting its alarm off. Customers at a near-by café screamed and ran for safety, while one of the waiters made a call on his cell phone.
“Everyone okay?” Brad asked, taking a quick look at the others.
“Fine,” Scarlet said, smacking the dashboard with the heel of her palm. “Damn it!”
“What about you, Lexi?”
“I’m okay, but you should know Kodiak is walking toward us and loading his shotgun.”
“And matey-lad over there’s probably calling the rozzers,” Scarlet said, nodding at the waiter.
Brad turned to Scarlet and smiled. “This is just like our first date!”
She rolled her eyes and opened the door. “We have to get the map to safety, Bradley, darling. Do stop trying to be funny.”
“Got it.”
A terrific explosion behind them signalled that Kodiak had fired the shotgun once again. Scarlet saw a cloud of smoke rise from the sawn-off weapon in the Russian’s hands and then shot-pellets sprayed over the side of the BMW. She ducked behind the front of their car and returned fire from the Sig while Brad and Lexi clambered out and took up defensive positions. Over their heads they heard the sound of a chopper approaching from the north.
“Police?” Karlsson asked.
Scarlet shook her head. “I doubt it. They’ll respond in cars first – listen.” She pointed in the direction they had just come from. Over the sound of the traffic and the screams of frightened pedestrians was the sound of police sirens.
“Which means…”
“Exactly,” Scarlet said. “Kodiak’s got back-up.”
CHAPTER TEN
Hawke popped the trunk and climbed out of the Q7. It was freezing cold and snow blasted into their faces as they armed themselves from Brooke’s mini-arsenal in the back. They selected from a range of weapons including assault rifles, automatic pistols and finally Hawke pulled out a Remington 870 Magnum shotgun for the internal doors, weighing it appreciatively in his gloved hands.
They put the final touches on their assault tactics as they marched through the snowstorm toward the dacha. Latest intel from Washington told them no one had left the complex and that Alex was still inside, but beyond that neither Jack Brooke nor anyone else knew what sort of danger she was in. They knew time was of the essence.
Now, Hawke moved forward through the snow and led the others closer to the enormous dacha complex, partially obscured by black Siberian pines and the swirling blizzard. They used the harsh conditions to their advantage and moved through the trees in the heavy snow to keep themselves out of sight.
Somewhere ahead of him was Agent Nightingale – the woman whose name he now knew was Alex Reeve, and she needed his help. Beyond that, he thought he might finally be nearing the truth that had evaded him since all this started – the truth about Scarlet Sloane never having been in MI5 – the truth about what Eden and Lea had kept from him.
He stared at the outline of the building in the snowy distance and was amazed by its size. He hadn’t expected anything quite like this. “When they said ‘holiday home’, I wasn’t exactly expecting all this – it’s like a sodding castle.”
“And who says crime doesn’t pay?” Lea said.
Phillips opened the fence up with a pair of collapsible bolt cutters and a moment later the six of them were inside the grounds of the dacha. In front of them was a narrow stream, which ran freely in the summer but was now frozen solid. They stepped on the ice and climbed up the far bank to find a small clearing. They were now no more than fifty yards from the west wing of the dacha.
“Look over there!” Lea said, pointing to their right. “Looks like they’re preparing to clear out.”
Hawke looked to where she was pointing and saw several men in thick black coats and ushanka hats readying a sleek silver helicopter for flight. It was parked on a landing pad beside a hangar a hundred yards or so from the main house, and a second chopper was parked behind it.
Hawke sighed. “Not the best news I’ve had today…”
“Maybe they got what they wanted from Nightingale,” Ryan said with a shudder. Ice was forming in his eyebrows.
“Let’s hope not,” Hawke said. “If they don’t need her any more there’s nothing to stop them killing her.”
Zimmerman raised his rifle and squinted through the sights.
“No!” Hawke said, pushing the barrel away and down toward the snow. “Are you crazy?”
“I could take them all out right now!” he replied.
“No, Zimmerman! He’s right,” Dempsey said. “You could take those guys out, sure, but then our cover’s blown and the Secretary’s daughter is dead. You want to be responsible for that?”
Zimmerman lowered the rifle but said nothing. Hawke knew the tension was running higher than usual on this mission. The failure to rescue hostages always made the news, and a bungled attempt to save the life of the American Defense Secretary’s daughter would make headline news on every network for weeks. It wasn’t the sort of publicity any of these Special Forces operatives would ever desire.
For Hawke, nothing mattered except saving Alex’s life. He couldn’t give a damn either way what the press said, but the thought of failing Alex at her moment of need – when she had saved his life back in that Balkans hellhole – just wasn’t worth contemplating.
They drew closer to the hangar and Hawke stood on a disused engine block to look through one of the windows. He pulled himself back to avoid being seen by an aviation mechanic who was whistling to himself and working casually inside the small building. Luckily, he hadn’t seen him, and Hawke took a second look. The interior of the hangar was brightly lit by strip-lights and mostly empty now that the helicopters had obviously been rolled out ready for Vetrov.
“We need to get to the house, fast,” Hawke said.
They moved toward the house and in line with their plan, they used grappling hooks to ascend to the roof where they moved low and cautiously until they found the atrium.
Hawke cleared some of the snow away and peered down through the thick glass.
“What the hell is this place?” he said, confused. “Looks like some kind of swimming pool.”
“I don’t think so,” Ryan said.
“What do you mean?”
“I might be mistaken, Joe, but I think that’s pretty much the last place you want to go swimming – look carefully over there by the artificial island.”
Hawke followed where Ryan was indicating with his gloved hand and saw to his horror what had to be at least a twenty-five foot-long crocodile submerged a few inches below the surface of the brown water.
“Bloody hell! It’s some kind of enclosure.”
Ryan nodded. “Unbelievable. Who the hell has a crocodile enclosure in their house?”
“I’m learning more about Maxim Vetrov with each passing minute,” Lea said. “And I don’t like it…and just what the hell is that?”
Hawke looked closer and saw a woman suspended over the enclosure.
“Could that be Nightingale?” Ryan said, squinting through the snow.
“Holy crap, that’s the asset,” Dempsey said, and began radioing informatio
n into a concealed headset.
Hawke gave him a look. “It’s not an asset, Dempsey, it’s a person, and she happens to be an old friend of mine.”
“Sorry…”
“Forget it,” Hawke said flatly. “Listen up, here’s the plan.”
*
Alex Reeve had spent an agonizing length of time being slowly winched down toward the crocodiles. As each link in the chain had clunked in the housing, inching her ever closer, she had felt sick as her death drew ever nearer. In that time, Vetrov had been busy preparing to move out – mocking her as he gave his men orders and loaded his gear into the helicopters. Now he was ready for the short chopper flight to Moscow where his private jet was fuelled and ready to go.
She watched Vetrov and Kosma move to the door for the final time as the chain hoist lowered her slowly toward the snapping crocodiles, but then she heard the sound of smashing glass and glanced up to see something fall from the atrium roof into the water. A second later there was an enormous underwater explosion which sent a colossal wave of spray into the air, followed by flying bloody chunks of what she could only presume were crocodile, blown apart by the force of the grenade.
Vetrov staggered backwards and stared upwards at the roof in horror, the smile officially wiped from his face. Another grenade came down into the water and a second explosion made an even more lethal impact inside the enclosure.
The Russian called out with his arms wide open in shock. “Anubis! Osiris! My darlings!”
The calm, controlled madness of the enclosure room had now turned to chaos as Vetrov began to scream orders at his men, starting with Kosma, who snatched up a closed-bolt Uzi pistol and began spraying nine mil parabellum bullets in a lethal arc across the glass-roofed atrium.
The other men followed suit and discharged their weapons in the direction of the atrium, spraying the glass with lead and shattering it into thousands of pieces. It fell through the air like crystal, followed by tons of the snow which had been accumulating on it since the start of the blizzard. The snow blew into the expansive room and added a further degree of confusion to the chaos.
