by Will Jordan
Still chortling with amusement at the earlier spectacle, Lazy Eye backed out of the cell and slammed the door shut behind him.
She was alone.
She coughed and spat, leaving a trail of bloody phlegm on the floor. She must have bitten her tongue when they’d shocked her. She could taste copper in her mouth, but the pain didn’t register.
Pain was something she had become so accustomed to, it was almost the norm for her now.
For nearly a full minute, she didn’t move a muscle, just lay there watching her breath misting in the cool air. She almost didn’t want to move. She felt as if she had been beaten from the inside out.
It had been some time since Bastard had had her, and he’d done his best to make up for lost time. Twice he had raped her in that cold shower room. Twice she had had to endure the weight of his massive, heaving bulk on top of her, feeling his hot breath in her ear as he grunted and thrust away. She couldn’t decide which was worse; the hard, fast and brutal first time, or his slower and more thorough second attempt.
She should have felt anger at what had happened. She should have felt revulsion and hatred and disgust and grief and a dozen other emotions that normal women would have felt.
No such feelings stirred within her now. The only anger she felt was towards herself and her body – her soft and vulnerable body that could be so easily hurt. Had she been born a man, she could have endured places like Khatyrgan with ease.
She could have endured many things in her life.
She was tired. Tired of this place, tired of waiting for the next round of pain and humiliation, tired of being cold and eating the same shit food every day.
She had thought herself strong once, able to endure anything, able to fight her way out of any situation. Years ago she had been a soldier, a warrior, a killer who struck without remorse, without fear, without conscience or regret, and who none could stand against. She had once stood on the brink of greatness, commanding power and respect that most could only dream of.
Yes, she had been strong then, and arrogant.
And wrong.
Now, lying there naked and shivering, with her insides aching and burning, she understood just how wrong she had been.
Yes, she had been wrong, and she was paying the price for that every single day of her life. Every day in this 6-foot-by-8-foot world, she lost a little more of that strength. Every day another piece of her died, until at last there wasn’t all that much left to call her own.
If she was to just lie there, the cold would eventually take her. It was such an easy thought, such an easy escape.
She would fall asleep, and that would be it.
Maybe it was better that way.
Suddenly, unbidden, her mind echoed with a voice that was not her own, speaking words that had once been recited to her long ago, words which had been drilled into the very core of her being, words which had sustained her many times when her hope had faded.
I will endure when all others fail. I will stand when all others retreat. Weakness will not be in my heart. Fear will not be in my creed. I will show no mercy. I will never hesitate. I will never surrender.
Her eyes snapped open, focused now with a clarity that her torture and rape had all but extinguished. A fire of defiance, of hatred and rage flared up inside her, driving away the weariness and the thoughts of surrender and despair.
I won’t die here. I won’t. They can kill me if they want, but I won’t lay down and die for them. I won’t give them that pleasure.
Get up. Get up now.
Slowly, painfully, she managed to get her arms beneath her and pushed herself up from the floor as she had done so many times. The effort left her trembling and gasping for breath, but she was up.
Forcing her rigid, frozen muscles to work, she reached out and grasped her clothes in a white-knuckle grip, dragging them across the floor towards her.
I will never surrender.
Chapter 10
‘GOOD MORNING, EVERYONE,’ Drake began. ‘I’m sorry we had to call you in at such short notice, but we have an urgent situation and very little time to bring you up to speed. Here’s an overview of what we have so far …’
He had spent the past two hours collating their objectives, the fledgling assault plan, the vast array of intelligence documents retrieved by Cain, and his own thoughts and recommendations into what he hoped was a logical and concise briefing dossier.
It was still rough, strewn with typos and dangerously vague in places, but it was the best he could do in the time available. Any gaps would have to be filled with verbal questions and answers as they went.
For the next twenty minutes, he outlined in broad terms what had happened thus far, what their objectives were, how they were to be carried out, as well as everything he’d been able to learn about Khatyrgan Prison.
‘So to summarise, our goal is to find an operative answering to the name Maras, secure her and get her back to US soil as quickly as possible. The entire operation has to be carried out with total deniability. Questions?’
Frost wasn’t shy about voicing hers. ‘Is this for real? I mean, launching a covert op against Russia? Parachuting into a maximum security prison?’
‘It’s very real,’ Drake confirmed. ‘Next question.’
Dietrich was next. ‘Who exactly is this woman?’
Drake glanced to his right. Cain, along with Franklin, was sitting in on the briefing. Officially they were present to review Drake’s plan and give it the green light, but he suspected Cain was simply there to keep a handle on what was being discussed.
‘Her identity is classified,’ Cain answered.
‘You’re asking us to risk our lives for her. I think we deserve to know.’
Cain gave him a look that would have made most men squirm in their seats. ‘You’re not in a position to make that call. If that’s not acceptable, you’re free to leave any time, Mr Dietrich.’
At this, Dietrich simmered down a little. Even he knew when to back off.
Drake cleared his throat, carrying on with the briefing. He was quite happy to watch Cain tear him a new one all day, but they were short of time already. ‘Needless to say, if any of us are caught or captured, the Agency will deny all knowledge of our existence.’
‘Surprise me,’ Keegan remarked with dry humour.
‘I’m serious,’ Drake cut in. ‘Before we go any further, I want everyone to be clear about what they’re getting into. If anyone wants to back out, this is the time. Nobody will think less of you.’
He looked at each of them in turn, giving them all a chance to voice their thoughts. Frost looked uneasy but determined. Keegan was smiling, as if amused by the whole thing. Mason was his usual composed and implacable self, while Dietrich’s face betrayed no emotion at all.
None of them said a word.
Drake nodded, satisfied. ‘All right. Now, let’s move on to the plan of assault.’
In his briefing dossier, he’d outlined five major challenges that needed to be overcome if the operation was to succeed:
1. Getting to the target area.
2. Making entry to the prison.
3. Neutralising the guards and security measures.
4. Finding and extracting Maras.
5. Getting out of the target area.
‘Phase One, getting there,’ he began. ‘Because of the time constraints and the nature of the target, we can’t approach by land. Our only option is insertion by air.’
‘We have an MC-130 transport standing by,’ Cain chimed in. ‘Our jumping-off point will be Elmendorf Air Force Base in Alaska.’
Drake moved over to the map he had pinned to the wall behind him. ‘The plan is for our transport to fly as close to Russian airspace as possible, right along the coast here. We then exit and parachute towards Khatyrgan Prison,’ he explained, indicating the rough drop zone on the map, and the proposed descent route.
He then switched his attention to the prison blueprints. ‘Phase Two, making entry. Our aim
will be to land on or adjacent to the south-west defensive tower,’ he said, indicating the tower on the plans. ‘We’ll take out any sentries that are on station, and neutralise any security measures nearby. Keegan, your call sign for this op is Delta. Your objective will be to set up a sniping position in this tower and cover the remaining three towers, plus the exercise yard.’
Keegan raised an eyebrow. ‘Jesus. Talk about multi-tasking, Ryan.’
Frost grinned. ‘Should have brought more women on the team.’
The veteran sniper gave her a withering look. ‘You could do the job if you weren’t smaller than the rifle.’
Frost tipped her coffee to him in mock salute but said nothing.
‘Phase Three is to neutralise the prison’s security and communication systems. Once Keegan is set up, we’ll split into two teams. Keira and Cole, you’re Alpha One and Two, respectively. You’ll head to the prison’s security station in the south block,’ Drake said, indicating a room on the second floor of the prison which they believed served as the nerve centre for the prison’s security cameras. ‘Keira, your objective will be to secure the station and destroy or disable any electronic security measures on site, and take out their communications.’
The young woman smiled. ‘Tell me what you want destroyed and I’ll make it happen.’
This was the part of the job she enjoyed. Computer hacking and data-trunk bypasses had their place, but sometimes a good crowbar was just as effective. And easier.
‘Good. Cole, you’re on cover duty.’
Mason nodded. ‘No problem.’
‘Right, Phase Four – finding Maras. As soon as the security system is down, myself and Dietrich will split off as Bravo One and Two. We’ll make our way along the roof to the north-west tower. That’s our closest access point to the solitary confinement cells, where we’re reliably informed she’s being held.’
Cain nodded. ‘She’s not the kind of prisoner you’d want in the general population, unless you had a pretty decent infirmary.’
‘How cooperative is she likely to be?’ Dietrich asked.
Cain folded his hands and leaned forward. ‘It’s hard to say. She was a rogue agent, so she’s unlikely to have much love for the Agency. There’s also no telling what effect prison has had on her. Whatever the case, you should still consider her extremely dangerous.’
Dietrich looked dubious. ‘She’s only one woman.’
Frost gave him a hostile glare but said nothing.
‘One woman who could easily kill every person in this room, son,’ Cain warned him, his expression deadly serious. ‘Believe me, I’ve seen what she’s capable of. The second you underestimate her, you’re as good as dead. Don’t turn your back on her for an instant, and don’t give her an opportunity to arm herself. Are we clear?’
Dietrich regarded the older man in silence for several seconds.
‘Are we clear?’ Cain repeated.
‘Yes, we’re clear,’ he said at last.
‘Good. You’re not to make any attempt to communicate with her either,’ he added. ‘She might say or do things to make you drop your guard. Don’t let yourself get taken in. Don’t believe anything she says.’
The others exchanged curious glances but said nothing.
Drake cleared his throat to resume the briefing. ‘According to the blueprints there are thirty-two cells in this block. Aside from searching them one at a time, our best chance will be to interrogate one of the prisoners and see if they know where she is. That’ll be your job, Jonas.’
Dietrich nodded. He had expected as much.
‘What kind of forces can we expect on site?’ Mason asked.
Drake leafed through his dossier. ‘According to their old personnel listings, there are a dozen guards, one warden and assistant warden, and about ten other support staff in various roles – technicians, cooks and so on.’
Mason raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s all? For a maximum security prison with nearly three hundred inmates?’
‘Cutbacks. Russia isn’t exactly rolling in money these days.’
‘There’s no need for them,’ Dietrich added, indicating the map again. ‘Khatyrgan is a hundred miles from anywhere, and well north of the Arctic Circle. Even if a prisoner made it out, they’d have nowhere to go.’
The prison itself was a fortress, but the real enemy was the icy wilderness beyond the walls. Without a vehicle, any escapee was as good as dead. The futility of their situation was probably enough to keep most of the inmates in line.
‘Based on similar facilities in East Germany, I’d expect no more than two or three guards on duty overnight,’ Dietrich went on. ‘One patrolling the cell blocks, one in the security centre and one as backup. They’ll all be tired and bored. They won’t be expecting trouble.’
Drake nodded. ‘Which brings me along to Phase Five – extraction. Once we’ve secured Maras, both teams will rendezvous with Keegan at the south-west tower. We’ll rappel down the outer wall and exfil.’
‘How do we get out of the country?’ Mason asked.
‘We’ll have a Chinook transport chopper on standby,’ Cain explained. ‘Once you’re out of the prison, it’ll land nearby and pick you up. It’s been modified for long-range operations so it should have enough range to get you home.’
Mason leaned back in his chair. ‘Then it’s back to Alaska in time for coffee and bagels, huh?’
‘Here’s hoping, anyway,’ Drake said.
‘The pilot won’t be able to stay on station for long,’ Cain reminded them. ‘So I suggest you don’t waste time.’
Drake raised an eyebrow, but said nothing on this. ‘I suggest we use the time we have to cover as many contingencies as possible. I want to hear absolutely everything you think could go wrong, every concern, every worry you have. We plan this thing down to the last detail, because we don’t get second chances in this job. We plan as a team, we go in as a team, and we come home as a team,’ he added, giving Dietrich a significant look. He snatched up his cup of coffee and downed the remaining contents in one gulp. ‘Let’s get to work.’
Chapter 11
DRAKE WAS ALONE in his cramped office, surrounded by stacks of paperwork, folders, maps, photographs, notebooks and empty coffee cups. Light from the setting sun slanted in through his window blinds, casting thin strips of shadow on the opposite wall. It was a beautiful day outside, not that he was in a mood to appreciate it.
The entire afternoon and evening had been occupied with intense planning sessions, going over every aspect of the operation from beginning to end, trying to anticipate every potential problem and find ways to counter it.
What kind of defensive positions were sitting atop the watchtowers? Would there be a guard in each one, or none at all? If the stairwells leading down into the prison were locked, did they have the right tools to break in? Did the stairwell doors open inward or outward?
These were all questions that could mean the difference between success and failure – or more likely, life and death – when they were halfway around the world in a Russian prison. Drake had seen more than one operation almost end in disaster because of some minor hitch that nobody had anticipated.
Every member of the team had a chance to voice their concerns, and often did so in very vocal terms. But at last they’d hammered out an operational plan that everyone was more or less satisfied with; no mean feat considering how little time they’d had.
Now the planning was over, the real work began for Drake. As team leader, that meant reviewing every aspect of the op from beginning to end, processing equipment requests, and making sure everyone in the team was organised and ready to go.
His job wasn’t unlike a parent watching over their brood of children before school, checking they had their lunches packed and clean clothes on. Except, instead of asking for crisps and cheese sandwiches, these kids were pestering him for assault rifles, blowtorches and hand grenades.
He looked up when a knock came at the door.
Frost let hers
elf in. ‘You asked to see me, Ryan?’
He nodded and gestured to an empty chair. ‘I need a favour. Close the door, would you?’
The young woman did as he asked, then sat down. ‘I’m listening.’
He leaned back in his chair, watching her thoughtfully for a few moments. ‘What’s your opinion of this operation?’
‘It’s a clusterfuck just waiting to happen,’ she replied without hesitation.
Despite himself, he couldn’t help but smile. Frost had never been one for sugar-coating things. ‘Thanks for the insight.’
She shrugged. ‘Just calling it as I see it. But I assume you didn’t ask me in here for my opinions?’
Drake nodded and slid the file photo of Maras across the table. ‘We’re risking our lives to recover this woman, and we don’t even know her name. We don’t know a single thing about her, in fact. That’s not acceptable.’
A slow smile spread across her face. ‘Want me to do some snooping?’
Again he nodded. ‘Can you do a facial recognition search?’
‘No problem.’
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of the desk. ‘Yeah, but can you do it quietly? If Cain gets wind of this, good things are not going to happen.’
In addition to her skills with electronic surveillance, Frost was a pretty decent hacker. Her problem was that she was a little too confident for his liking. He wanted to know more about Maras, but he didn’t want Frost to end up in prison for her efforts.
‘You don’t trust him, do you?’ she asked. ‘Cain, I mean.’
‘He’s not giving us the full story, or any story at all for that matter,’ he evaded. ‘That makes me nervous.’
‘You’re not the only one.’ The young woman grinned. ‘But relax, he won’t find out what I’m up to. I’m good at what I do.’
‘And modest, too,’ he observed.
‘Modesty’s for you Brits, along with warm beer and stiff upper lips,’ she taunted. ‘Look, I know a guy in the Office of Information Technology. He’s pretty good. We’ll make a few enquiries, see what we can come up with, and we’ll cover our tracks real well.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘Promise.’
