Spycatcher

by Matthew Dunn

  Will opened his eyes, rubbed a bruise on the side of his head, and winced in pain from the touch. He gulped in air and ran back toward the mountain and Lana and the man who was dragging her up its slopes. Snow still fell serenely, at odds with what was happening here. Will ran faster than he thought he was capable of until he reached the point where he’d last seen his quarry. He looked through his small rifle scope but saw nothing ahead, so he urgently scoured the ground for the footprints he’d seen earlier. He found them, now under a powdering of fresh snow, and sprinted onward. His feet trampled over the route that Lana and the man had taken.

  The ground rose sharply, causing Will to slow. He looked left and right, trying to find any evidence of a mountain track to aid his ascent, but everything around him was wild and inhospitable.

  Five or six bullets hit snow-covered ground in rapid succession to his left. They were wide of their mark, and Will knew that they’d come from an automatic weapon. But he also knew that he’d been momentarily spotted by at least one of the hostiles behind him. He looked down at the footprints and saw that they followed an almost straight route up the mountain. Will thought for a moment. He made a decision and ran to the right of the tracks as fast as the severity of the grade would allow him to. After traveling for three hundred meters, he stopped, breathing heavily. He turned, sat down on the snowy slope, calmed his breathing, and scoured the area below him through his rifle scope. Everywhere was beautiful, with the Saranac Lakes in the distance, the hills around them, a carpet of pure white snow covering all ground and trees. Will ignored the beauty of his surroundings and focused on finding the man who had shot at him so that he could kill him.

  He spoke to Roger and gave the CIA man his approximate location. “One of the hostiles is close to me. Can you see anything?”

  Roger took a moment to respond, and Will knew that he would be searching for signs of life through the powerful lens of his sniper rifle. His words came quick and quiet. “I saw something, just briefly, to your southwest and approaching the base of the mountain.”

  Will swung his rifle in that direction, moving it so that it was looking between trees, at ground, at streams.

  “Movement again.” Roger’s words were barely audible. “Same location. He must be about nine hundred meters from your position.”

  Will breathed deeply. Then he saw the man and stopped breathing. The man was walking quickly and carried his rifle in one hand. His head and upper body were bent down. He was clearly moving to another position to try to shoot Will. And he was clearly oblivious to the fact that Will could now see him.

  Will relaxed his body, moved the crosshairs of his scope slightly in front of the moving man’s head, and waited for the right moment. The distance between himself and the hostile was at least twice the effective range of the Colt M4A1, and Will knew that he would have only one chance of hitting the man. If he missed, the man would sprint for cover and vanish. His quarry appeared and disappeared through trees and was heading toward a large outcropping of mountain rock. Will decided that he had to shoot the man before he reached it. He breathed in fully, then partially breathed out before holding his breath. He waited. He shot.

  The man slumped to the ground. Will’s bullet had struck him in the center of his head.

  Will stood and turned back to face the steep incline of the mountain. “He’s down.”

  “Good, but the others will know where you are now.” Roger’s voice sounded very weak. “It’s now or never. Save Lana. Get Megiddo.”

  Will exhaled. “Roger, you and your men have gone beyond what I asked of you. You don’t need to stay where you are. I’m sure your injury is worse than you told me. Crawl back to the lodge. There are probably medical supplies in there.”

  “There’s one bullet in my gun, and I’m not going anywhere until I have the chance to use it.”

  Will nodded and ran farther up the mountain, occasionally stumbling as his feet hit snow-hidden rocks and branches. Its summit grew closer until he knew that he was only a few hundred meters from the mountaintop. The wind became stronger and brought with it ice-cold air.

  He narrowed his eyes and tried to look at everything before and around him. He heard Lana’s words.

  One day you’ll be here for me.

  He squinted through the rifle scope; he moved his gun left and right; he ran; he walked; he crawled; he did everything he could to remain a hunter rather than a corpse.

  He ran again and stopped suddenly. He crouched, raising his weapon. He could see them. The man still had his back to Will and was dragging Lana with him. Will focused the crosshairs of his scope on the man’s back. At this range the shot would be easy.

  He thought about his father. He thought about the savagery inflicted on him by the man he now had in his crosshairs. He thought how easy it would be to quickly incapacitate the man with one shot and then to kill him in a slower, more satisfying way.

  He held his breath.

  He thought about the thousands of lives that could be lost if the shot killed Megiddo and his secret. He thought about Lana and how she would suffer at Megiddo’s hand if Will’s shot did not kill him instantly.

  He lowered his rifle.

  Roger’s voice sounded quietly in his earpiece. “The three hostiles are now together and seven hundred meters from the summit.”

  “Roger, I’m very close to my quarry, but I need time.” Will took one step forward. “Try to make a shot. Try to draw the three men away from me.”

  Roger sighed. “They’re nearly three kilometers away from my position. But I’ll try.”

  Will looked through his scope again, but Lana and her captor were gone from sight. He cursed. He moved farther up the mountain.

  He knew that the sound of the high-velocity shot had come from a distance, but its noise still echoed around the valley and over the contours of adjacent mountains. Will instantly dropped low, spinning around. He listened for nearly ten seconds before he heard Roger’s voice.

  The CIA man’s words sounded labored. “I got him in the head. He’s dead.”

  Roger had just killed one of the three Iranian men following Will. The distance of the shot, the adjustments required to compensate for elevation and weather, and the fact that Roger was injured made the shot remarkable.

  Roger spoke again. “Damn it. The other two went to ground for a moment, but now they’ve continued pursuing you. I’m sorry, Will. I thought they’d turn and come back to kill me. Either way, that was my last bullet.”

  Will cursed. “Okay. Keep trying to track their movements. Stay in radio communication. That’s all that matters now.”

  Another rifle shot rang out from the distance. Will frowned. “I thought you were out of bullets.”

  “That wasn’t me, but one of the two Iranian hostiles following you is down.”

  There was another rifle shot.

  “I’ve shot the two men coming after you.” The voice belonged to Laith. “The snipers put me on my ass for a while. But I’m back in it now.” He coughed. “I’m off the island and positioned by the lakeside.”

  Will nodded. “I’m glad you’re back in the land of the living. Get to Roger and help him.”

  Will sprinted up the mountainside for nearly a hundred meters before seeing something that looked out of place. He dived to the ground, brought his rifle up high, and raised himself to a crouch.

  Lana was before him.

  She was on her knees, her head was slumped. Ropes had been lashed around her throat, upper body, and legs, fixing her to a tree. Her hands were tied across her chest to form the shape of a cross.

  He looked all around her and through the large flakes of snow that still fell slowly. They were on the summit, and with the exception of the tree that held Lana, the mountaintop was bare of life. He looked at her, his heart pounding as thoughts raced through his mind. He knew she could be bait for a trap. She could
be a means to delay him, allowing Megiddo time to escape down the other side of the mountain. Megiddo must have been aware that Will was following him up the mountain. Whatever was happening, he could not leave her like this.

  Will walked carefully forward, scanning to the left and right of Lana with his gun. He reached her, squatted, and lifted her head. Her eyes were closed. She was unconscious.

  He looked at the hands crossed over her chest. Drawing out his knife, he began cutting carefully through the cords that bound them. He pulled his knife upward, slicing through the last of her wrist cords. The movement forced her hands toward him. He looked down and for the tiniest moment frowned.

  Lana’s unbound arms involuntarily released two hidden grenades. The devices fell toward the ground, and in that fraction of a second Will cursed his own stupidity. Megiddo had tied her up in such a way as to kill both her and Will the moment her cords were cut.

  The immense noise and light momentarily destroyed everything. There was no thought, no pain, no sight, nothing.

  He opened his eyes. Or maybe they were open already. He thought he saw white. He sensed that he was suspended in nothing but white. He did not know if he saw or sensed anything real. But white was all around him.

  Seconds, minutes, or hours passed. He had no way of knowing anything about time.

  Then the white gradually drifted away and left other things in its place. Will’s eyes thought they saw sky, flecks of snow and land. His face was cold. He started hearing things. He started seeing things. He started thinking.

  He knew he was lying on snow. He knew that the ringing in his ears was from the explosion. He knew he could not move his legs and arms. He used all his strength to turn his head to look at Lana. Her own head was still slumped, but he could tell that she was breathing heavily. He felt overwhelming relief. They both should have been dead. And then he realized what had happened. The explosives had been stun grenades. Megiddo had wanted to keep him alive.

  He turned away from Lana. The movement was excruciating, and he could still do nothing more than just lie on the ground.

  Then Will saw him. Even though his vision kept blurring and fragmenting, he saw him.

  The man seemed distant at first. He walked quite slowly. Snow fell around him, but it did not seem to touch him. He carried a gun. He was looking at Will. He was coming toward him.

  The man was tall. His gun was a rifle, and it was held in one hand with its barrel resting on his shoulder. The man looked calm. He came right up to Will. He looked at him. He said, “You deserve a better death than one by explosives or being shot like a dog on the ground. And I have now decided that there are things you need to know before I give you that more honorable death. But now is not the time.”

  Then he slammed the butt of his rifle onto Will’s skull.

  Forty-Six

  “Come on, come on.” The man’s voice was hard, and his hand felt icy as it moved roughly over Will’s face. “I know you can hear me, so start thinking and start moving.”

  The large hand moved roughly over Will’s face and felt even colder.

  For a moment Will thought he could not move or do anything. His head throbbed. His face tingled in pain from the man’s hand. He felt anger at the man and decided that whoever the man was, Will was going to make him stop. He sucked in air, and the action caused an icy slush to enter his mouth. He shook his head to try to break away from the man’s hand. The man kept smothering his face. Will felt overwhelming anger. With all his strength, he grabbed the man’s wrist and yanked it away.

  Laith was above him. He looked serious and concerned. His face was bloody, and he had half an ear missing. He nodded and said, “About time.”

  Will sat upright and felt his face. It was covered with snow. He brushed the snow away and looked around. He was still on the mountain summit, wind and snow swirling around him. He looked at Laith and knew that the ex–Delta operative had been rubbing snow into his face to try to bring him around. “How long have I been unconscious?”

  Laith checked his watch. “The last time you and I spoke was over sixty minutes ago. I’d say you’ve been out for twenty to thirty minutes.”

  Will cursed. He placed fingers against the area on his head where the rifle butt had struck. He winced in pain but could feel only bruising. He held out his hand, and Laith grabbed it to pull him to his feet. He wobbled, steadied himself, and stared out over the southern valley below him. He muttered, “Why the hell didn’t he kill me?” He looked at Laith. “Where’s Roger?”

  “I strapped up his leg and took him back to our vehicles. He’s going to limp, but he’ll live.”

  Will checked his pockets. His handgun, knife, and tactical communications system were gone, but he was relieved to find that his hidden cell phone was still in place. He pulled out the phone and called Roger. “Can you drive?”

  Roger told him that he could.

  Will nodded and turned around to face the lakes, the lodge, and Roger’s location. “All right. Megiddo’s still got Lana, and they must be heading back north toward you, since there’s nothing but endless wilderness to the south. All the time they’re on foot, Lana will slow him down, so he’ll be desperate to find a vehicle or other means of transport to get out of here quickly.” He thought for a moment. “After we attacked the lodge, Megiddo’s reinforcements came through the woods from the north. Tell me about the road network around the lakes.”

  Roger told him that there was only one road that ran along the eastern side of the lake, the road they came in on, the road that Megiddo’s men would have had to use to approach and leave the lodge.

  Will nodded. “Okay, Megiddo’s vehicles must be somewhere close to that road, northwest of your position and beyond the lodge.” He checked his watch. “He’s got a head start on us of probably thirty minutes, but I doubt he’s reached the vehicles yet. Drive in that direction now, and we’ll head to you on foot.”

  Will scoured the ground around him. He saw his Colt M4A1 assault rifle, walked to it, picked it up, briefly examined the gun, swore, and tossed it away. The bolt had been removed. He looked at Laith. “What weapons do you have?”

  “Only one handgun. I had to leave the fifty-caliber behind to reach Roger and you quickly.”

  “Goddamn it.” Will looked in the direction of the lodge, then at Laith. “We need to move very fast.”

  “You sure you can do this?”

  Will’s head throbbed with increased pain. “I have to.”

  The two men sprinted down the mountainside. They kept a gap of thirty meters between them to minimize the chances of them both being shot, but even so, Will knew that they were running too fast and too blindly to spot Megiddo before he could easily shoot one of them. Will desperately hoped that Megiddo’s only priority now was escape.

  They ran past the bodies of men they’d shot. They ran until they reached the base of the mountain and the slope leveled. They ran faster and changed direction slightly so that they were heading toward the road. They ran over ground covered with snow and trees, ground that had earlier been pretty and innocent but would soon be remembered by others as the location where a bloody battle had taken place.

  Laith stopped suddenly and crouched. Will did the same, sucking in air after the excruciatingly fast run. Laith looked around him, looked at Will, and pointed ahead. He was silently telling Will that they were now very close to the road.

  Will nodded, calmed his breathing, pulled out his phone, and called Roger. He cupped his other hand over his mouth and the phone to reduce sound and spoke as quietly as he could. “We’re very close. What can you see?”

  “Nothing. Not even any signs of recent tire tracks.”

  Will briefly closed his eyes in frustration. “Could he have gotten past you in a vehicle without your seeing him?”

  “Impossible. But it’s possible he got to a vehicle and headed southwest away from me on the
road.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I can’t be sure. But I’ve been driving up and down this road, and I can be sure I’ve seen no evidence of recent vehicle movement.”

  “Shit. All right, well, I can’t be sure either, but I think we’ve got to assume he’s still on foot and heading north to the village of Saranac Lake.”

  “I agree. I’ll meet you on the road.”

  Will ran low to Laith, patted him on the shoulder, and moved forward with Laith close beside him. Trees began to thin, and Will spotted glimpses of the road. Laith turned, held up a hand to tell Will to halt before moving forward in a crouch position while twitching his handgun left and right. As Laith came to within a few meters of the edge of the road, he stopped altogether, lay down on his front, gathered snow up around him, and waited.

  From his spot forty meters behind Laith, Will also waited. He looked around and felt totally exposed. He imagined Megiddo emerging from somewhere in the dense forest behind him, walking up to him unseen, and cutting his throat with the knife he’d removed from Will. He heard a distant noise and glanced quickly toward the road and Laith’s hidden position close to it. The noise grew louder, and Will knew it belonged to a vehicle. He watched Laith, but the man remained motionless.

  Will scoured the area between the gaps in the trees in front of him. He saw nothing at first but then spotted movement to his far right. The movement was large and dark, and it flashed between the trees. It was the vehicle. Most likely it was Roger, but it could also belong either to Megiddo or to heavily armed police. He looked back at Laith and knew that he would be thinking the same.

  The vehicle moved slowly from right to left. Will ignored it, looked at Laith, and saw that he was continuing to stay very still. But as the vehicle got closer, Laith gradually started to raise himself out of his self-made shallow snow hole. The vehicle was almost right in front of him. Laith immediately stood, held his gun high, and took five steps forward. The vehicle stopped dead. Laith held his gun trained at its driver.