"I have men in there. Undercover."
Michael Branton instantly relayed this to David Morton. This situation happened from time to time. They had protocols. Morton replied crisply,
"Tell them their code word is Pink Panties. Say again Pink Panties."
Michael Branton relayed the information onto Chuck Miller. Then he replied to Morton,
"You're a sarcastic bastard."
David Morton replied,
"Yeah I know."
David Morton got the go ahead from Branton and gave the signal to his five squads to advance on the Lobby. Several shotgun blasts shattered the external doors. Then they threw in multiple flash grenades, as they advanced in through the openings. There were a lot of bodies on the ground. A lot of smoke. Visibility was low. There were a few screams, people moaning. Someone was shooting back at them. The nearest group of the commandos ducked to the side, advanced on the shooter from different directions and then opened fire. He was shredded in an instant. Someone nearby moved. He had a gun. He moved to point it at them. They all fired again.
David Morton and two of the men with him advanced towards the concierge desk. They came across a man with a gun, just a pistol but still a weapon. They directed their own weapons towards him and prepared to fire. He saw three heavily armored soldiers with machine guns pointing at him about to fire. He screamed out,
"Pink Panties, Pink Panties."
They took his weapon, cuffed him and led him out.
It was all over in the Lobby in less than a minute. They found seven CIA agents still alive, three dead. There were also fifteen civilians including a visibly shaking concierge. Miraculously fourteen of these were unharmed - except for concussion from the flash grenades. One of them had been killed in the crossfire early on, probably before the police arrived. There were fifteen Russian gun men. None of them survived. A few were shot dead resisting arrest.
David Morton looked up as he heard more gunfire coming from the direction of the casino. The shooting wasn’t over yet. And they still had to find Samuals. He and his men raced for the Casino floors. The sound of gunfire was coming from the second level. One squad ran into the ground level to secure it and make their way up from the inside using the side stairwell. The other four raced for the external stairwells taking them up to the second level. They all knew the layout. One of their many simulation exercises covered exactly an assault of this kind on the Casino.
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Svetlana got back to her room and raced to the window. She was looking south, down over city streets. She saw a sea of flashing lights. Already! There would be more with every passing minute. She exclaimed out loud,
"Fuck."
But she knew they weren’t looking for her. They were here for Brian Samuals. She could pretend to be just another guest, a civilian, so long as she wasn’t scrutinized or checked too closely. Her fake ID might not hold out but maybe that would be OK if she got away soon enough. The problem was her weapons. She could get another Berretta pistol, more knives. No problem there. But she didn’t want to lose her great grandfather’s Nagant revolver. To her it was priceless.
She knew what to do. Using one of her knives she cut a slice across the top of her skull. It was superficial and presented no danger but it started bleeding profusely. She would be covered in blood before it stopped. Gun-shot wound to the head. Obviously. She put on a jacket that she'd brought with her. Not needed in summer but no-one would notice in the confusion. She discarded her pistol and her knives and then stuffed the revolver into the lining of her jacket and ran out the room down the corridor to the eastern stairwell. She would run out onto the ground level like a terrified civilian, bleeding terribly from a head wound. She would make a huge fuss. The medics would evacuate her. They'd check her body for any other wounds. She'd cling to the jacket, panicked. She would manage to keep it on or at least with her somehow. If they took it off in an ambulance they'd just throw it on the floor. Either way she'd get it back in the end. If it came down to it, she'd just fucking shoot her way out.
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I was running down the upper second level away from the casino. I could hear gunfire from inside the casino itself. Natasha was struggling to keep up. She was terrified. Everyone was evacuating, people everywhere, screaming, running. The insane speaker was still blaring out,
“Emergency, Evacuate now. Emergency, Evacuate now.”
I saw a row of police moving in our direction. I ducked into the EasyEats Bistro, pulling Natasha in with me. This would do. I'd studied the layout of the whole complex. From here we could get out the back into a maintenance corridor, then make our way through the kitchens and supply rooms to the other side of the complex.
There were four people already hiding in the Bistro. Chinese. Young. Three men and a woman. One of the men was pointing a gun at me, a pistol. He looked scared, inexperienced. He was waving the gun about unsteadily. The other three crouched behind him. I was in fighting mode. In one move I dropped the bag I was carrying, drew out my Uzi and fired a burst. The man with the gun caught it in the head and neck. He would have died instantly. But just to be sure I fired a second burst. As he fell the man behind him caught most of it in the head killing him too. The other two were cowering down, screaming. They were not a threat. I ignored them. The bodyguard, and I assumed immediately that’s what he was, had plenty of time to get off a shot. It would have to have been accurate, a kill shot. Otherwise I would have fired at him anyway. But he didn’t even try. He had been too nervous, not quick enough or not aggressive enough, not battle hardened. Evolution in action, baby. Trial by fire. He lost.
I made it, with Natasha, into the room behind the Bistro dining area. They used this to prepare food and cook. At the back of the room, as expected, there was a door - which I knew led into the primary maintenance corridor. It was locked of course. I could have shot out the lock easily enough. Too noisy. Instead I got out one of my lock picking tools and managed to get it open. We went through and I locked the door again behind us. We started running down the main maintenance corridor. Eventually the police would search the whole complex, but at least right now they wouldn’t be charging along behind us. They would see that the door was locked and move on. Oh fuck! I should have killed the other two. Witnesses! They'll say which way we went. They might identify me in a photo. Too late now. I wasn’t going back. Time was short. There was a way out at the other end but we had to get there quickly.
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A massive gun fight was raging in the casino - on the second level. SOG Commander David Morton and his men were slowly moving in on the remaining Russians forcing them back to the western end of the floor. There were fifteen of them, which included Alexander Mendeleev who was still alive. They were outnumbered. Morton had fifty men in his assault teams and his men were much more heavily armed, not to mention body armor, helmets, stun grenades. The Russians were putting up a fight though. Bursts of machine gun fire were going back and forth. Many of the gambling machines were getting blown apart. There were a few bodies scattered about. Some of the Russians had been killed already and some civilians. Most of the civilians though had made it out.
The man next to David Morton caught a round in the chest. He was knocked onto his back. With the body armor, it was survivable. Morton spoke into the mic embedded in his helmet,
"Man down."
Then he pushed on. You didn’t stop. Others behind him would take care of the fallen. Speed. Maximum aggression. Two squads provided covering fire while the other two moved forward. They alternated. The fifth squad which had arrived in the middle of the floor up the internal stairs made their way along the side attempting to get behind the enemy. The sound of ongoing machine gun fire was deafening. The occasional vivid flash and roar of a stun grenade added to the tumultuous chaos.
It was all over a few minutes later. Coming at them from the front and the side
the SOG units moved in relentlessly. The last group of Russians, including Mendeleev stood up and charged them, firing at them madly. Roaring at them. Screaming out in Russian,
"Victory or death."
Death it was then. They were cut down in seconds. David Morton and his men carefully and systematically checked all the bodies. All dead. He was relieved to find that his mate who'd taken one in the chest was going to be all right. He looked down at the bullet ridden corpses of the final group of Russian gunmen who had charged at them. He turned to the man beside him, Sergeant Roberts, and said,
"Dumb cunts should have just surrendered."
The Sergeant replied,
"Yeah, s'pose."
He didn’t give a shit. So long as they were all dead and he and his mates were not.
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Boris and Vadim had made it down to the ground level. The gunfight in the casino was still raging. Terrified civilians were pouring out onto the floor. There were police everywhere trying to establish control. Some of them with body armor and heavy weapons. Too many of them. Boris and Vadim looked at each other. There was no way they could shoot their way out. They had to pretend to be civilians. They weren’t the actual targets. But they would be detained and questioned. The authorities might have identified them from the Strip Club incident. Couldn’t be helped. They'd think of something. Better than being shot trying to escape.
They went back up one flight of stairs and discarded all their weapons then rushed back down to the ground level. Boris called out to Vadim,
"Good luck."
Vadim replied,
"Good luck to you too."
They walked out onto the main floor on the ground level attempting, without much success, to look panicked. They blended with the crowd as it was guided by police towards the stairwell and then out to one of the ground level exits. They would all be checked carefully. They both knew there was a good chance they'd be arrested.
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Natasha and I made it to the opposite end of the complex, threading our way through more maintenance areas and corridors. I'd prepared for this. I had it all mapped out. There were dozens of exits at the far end. More importantly there was a side of one of the buildings with no exits but plenty of windows just one floor up from the ground. There was a park with a lot of trees and easy egress from there to a tangle of small city streets. It was our best chance of escape. We'd be there very shortly.
Natasha was looking increasingly distressed. She blurted out,
"Maybe we should just surrender to the police. They're not after us."
I looked at her, surprised she hadn’t yet grasped the situation. But then how could she have. I replied simply,
"They're after me."
She looked back at me, exclaiming,
"Oh."
We both continued running. We could still hear gunfire coming from the other end of the complex. A lot of gunfire.
We arrived at one of the rooms I'd mapped out in the Cresler Building on the other side of the Complex. It was a conference room – with a desk at the front, chairs in rows. I ran towards the windows and looked out. No one was there yet. I was able to unlock one of the windows. I pushed it open and then turned back to Natasha. I cried out,
"We have to jump, babe."
She nodded, and then replied,
"OK."
She came over to the window and looked down.
It wasn’t too high. Less than ten feet. I got Natasha to jump first. Once she was back on her feet I managed to drop my weapons bag into her arms. Then I jumped too. I could see flashing lights from just around the corner. The police were closing in but they hadn’t yet sealed the net. We both moved at an easy pace into the trees and through the park. You stand out more if you run. We got onto Haig street and continued walking - away from the Complex. I hadn’t planned for an escape at night with nowhere to go. We could go to Uncle Charlies. It wouldn’t take long to get there, even on foot. But I didn’t want to put him in any further danger. I'd think of something. Keep walking. I finally had the chance to slow down a bit. I took Natasha's hand. I could see that she was frightened. I encouraged her,
"Hey Babe, everything is going to be all right."
She didn’t reply. She still looked frightened. I would make it up to her, I would keep her safe. For the moment, I was just immensely relieved that we'd made it out. I thought to myself, but didn’t say out loud,
“Fuck, that was close!”
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Commander David Morton walked out of the Lobby onto Spencer Street. He took off his helmet, stretched, took a few deep breaths. He walked over to talk to Branton. Assistant Commissioner Michael Branton was on site and had set up a command post just outside the hotel. The street was blocked off. The scene was one of barely organized chaos. Police everywhere. Groups of civilians being led out by them and guided towards assembly areas. None of the civilians would be allowed to leave before being carefully checked. There was also a large number of ambulances parked as close to the entrance as they could get. Dozens of medics were going into the hotel escorted by police. Several of the medics were already returning with patients on stretchers, rushing them to the ambulances. Similar scenes were occurring at the other main entrances on Yarra Promenade around the corner. It was quieter at the eastern end of the Complex. But police were blocking off all exits there as well. Anyone leaving was being detained, questioned and checked.
David Morton stood beside Michael Branton. Branton was talking fast into his phone. He had a large map open on a foldout desk set up in front of him. When Branton had finished Morton simply asked,
"How's it going?"
Branton looked up.
"Good so far. We've got the whole complex surrounded. It’s a big area. Four city blocks. But we're getting more units in place every minute. I doubt he can get out. How'd you go?"
Morton shrugged.
"Piece of cake. All shooters down. One of my men hurt but nothing serious."
Branton replied,
"Good. The Russian gangsters were no doubt there looking for Samuals. The CIA was there looking for Samuals. Why the fuck are we the only ones that didn’t know where he was?"
Morton looked annoyed.
"Well, we'll just have to ask them that, politely."
Branton snorted,
"Yeah right."
There was a sudden commotion not far from them. Two large men had been singled out by police and taken aside. They were quickly put on the ground. Dozens of officers had their guns out, trained on them. They were thoroughly searched, then cuffed and pulled back onto their feet. Morton recognized them. He said to Branton,
"Ah Messiers Boris Ivanov and Vadim Smirnov. From the nightclub. We will definitely want to talk to them. Tell me we have something to charge them with."
Branton replied,
"Maybe they were shooting in there. Maybe not. If we find the guns … other than that, there’s always attempted abduction at the Men’s Club. We don’t have any direct evidence to charge them with killing the hacker. The gangster’s son was wearing Cummings’ clothes. Good, but not definite. If they still have the same guns used - in the suite they were in - that’d be good. But I doubt that they would be that stupid."
Morton started to object. He’d just been in a firefight. They were guilty of a hell of a lot more than attempted abduction. Start with firing at police. Attempted homicide. But Branton cut him off.
"Don’t worry. Interpol has a list of charges a mile long. They'll be extradited. They're going down for life."
Morton nodded.
"Good. But I get to talk to them first. Right?"
Branton agreed.
"Of course. Be polite."
Morton nodded again.
"Of course."
They watched as Boris and Vadim were hauled off by a group of police, put in a squad car and driven off. The records
highlighted that they were extremely dangerous. They were being treated accordingly.
Morton asked Branton,
"So, what now?
Branton replied,
"First we finish evacuating any casualties. Forty dead so far, including thirty dead Russian gunmen, and three dead Americans who I assume were CIA. You arrested seven more, any others would have hidden in amongst the civilians. No way to tell."
Morton asked,
"What about the ones I arrested? We can charge them with possession of illegal weapons for starters."
Branton sighed,
"Sorry mate. We'll have to let them go."
Morton was cynical and not at all surprised. He said,
"Of course we will."
Branton agreed with the sentiment. But it wasn’t his call. He said,
"Nothing I can do about that. But you can bet I'll be having a long hard talk with that CIA prick Miller. Face to face."
Morton found that amusing. He replied,
"Good."
Branton paused for a few moments, thinking things through, then he said,
"OK. Once we clear out the casualties and the civilians. We’ll lock down the whole complex, close it down, and start searching systematically - room by room. Samuals will be in there somewhere. Armed and dangerous. So it will be a full tactical search."
101 People to Kill Before I Die Page 18
