The Rhythm of the Stone – Collateral Damage
Page 7
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James Spalding gasped, arched his back and fell forward into the chest of his younger brother. Dean grimaced and his mouth fell open and his shoulder’s curled around his chest, he raised his pistol at Sergio and then Anatoly.
“One move and my friend will shoot.” Sergio snapped his head up and to the east, where Mikhailov lay. “You are in his sight. I suggest you be still!”
Before Dean could fire, Sergio shot the gun out of Dean’s hand, he grabbed Anatoly dragging the soviet double agent back. He twisted his Glock to his Russian captive’s stomach. “You won’t die but you’ll wish you had,” he said in Russian. “We knew of your plans to defect. We could not let this happen.” His voice menacing, barely above a growl. He released his grip and pulled the handcuffs from his coat. Sergio scowled at Dean, kneeling next to his brother.
He snapped the handcuffs closed, Anatoly leaned his head back, grimacing. Sergio tapped the side of Anatoly’s head with the barrel and snarled into his ear. “We have much to discuss comrade Utkin.” Anatoly drooped his head, nodding slowly.
Dean shaking his hand. “You didn’t think I’d come alone.”
“No. But I believe we have what you would call a stalemate.” “You see, my man is very good … yours well,” the Russian shrugged, “not so good.” “With all this shooting we don’t know do we?” He peeked around the girder. “The two men up there,” Sergio waved his pistol east and west, “they know who lives.”
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Cooper spotted the Soviet marksman’s rifle, a bit of his shoulder, arm and a sliver of face peeking from behind a short wall. He aimed and fired. Then switched his sight to see what was going on the bridge below. “Crap! One down, no clear shot.”
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Mikhailov winced when the bullet grazed his forearm arm. He swiveled and fired back in the direction of the rifle shot. Then crept to a new position behind along the wall and scanned the structures on the other side of the river. Mikkailov aimed and fired.
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Cooper’s bulletproof vest caught the brunt of the rifle shot knocking the air out of him His chest heaved catching small gulps of air into his lungs. Breathing like he had sprint a mile, he searched for the Soviet shooter with his sight.
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Mikhailov kept the American sniper pined with intermittent fire, until Sergio Kalugin and his captive were clear.
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“American, we back away. Yes? I can shoot you,” Sergio tilted his head up and to his right. “Or him. It’s up to you.” The Russian shrugged at Dean. “We can wait here all night, eyeball to eyeball.” The KGB officer smiled. “But I think you will first blink, yes?”
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Dean glanced at the barrel of the Russian’s pistol, then at his own pistol. His hand stinging like a thousand needles.
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“It’s hopeless for you, my young American friend.” Sergio warned when he noticed the American ponder the pistol. He shook his head and began to back away. “Perhaps we shall meet again under,” he smiled and cocked his head, “better conditions. Yes?”