The Russian Defector

by Ethan Jones

  Ava shot forward. Her first punch struck Tiana in the stomach. She doubled over in pain. Ava then flung up her right knee, which caught Tiana under her chin. She landed hard on her back, blood oozing out of her mouth.

  Ava stepped closer, but Savin stopped her with his pistol. “Don’t move.”

  Tiana spat out blood and shook her head. “Put it away.”

  “But—”

  “Just do it. I’ve got this.”

  Ava snorted. “Of course you do.” She made a mocking gesture inviting Tiana to continue the fight, the same one she had used before starting it.

  Savin put the pistol into his waistband holster.

  Tiana sprang to her feet. She gave Ava a fiery look and launched herself forward.

  Her moves were slightly uncoordinated and slower than earlier.

  Ava noticed it and decided to use that to her advantage.

  She moved to the side and closer to Savin, who remained in place. They were now about seven paces away from one another, and he was to Ava’s left.

  Tiana’s attack began with a couple of punches. They were light, and Ava could have blocked or dodged them easily. But her tactic was to appear weak, so that Tiana would grow cocky, defiant, and careless.

  The blows caught Ava’s side of the face and shoulder. She staggered on her feet, waiting for Tiana’s next blow. The other woman opted for a kick, instead, which caught Ava on the right side. She moaned and fell onto the tarmac, rolling toward Savin.

  He snickered at her moans and tried to kick her.

  Ava knew that was coming and was ready for it.

  She grabbed his boot with both her hands and twisted his ankle.

  Savin screamed and collapsed next to her.

  In a lightning-fast move, Ava retrieved his pistol. She cocked it and fired a round in Savin’s chest. He stopped breathing.

  Tiana froze. She dashed to the side, toward her pistol on the grass. Before she could reach it, Ava tapped the trigger again. Her bullet entered Tiana’s left shoulder. She fell down on her stomach, two steps away from her pistol.

  One of the gunmen had heard the gunfire. He turned around and aimed his rifle at Ava.

  She rolled away behind Savin’s dead body.

  Lazar jumped to the side.

  The gunman opened fire at the same time that blood gushed from the back of his head.

  One of Ihor’s bullets had found its target.

  A second gunman turned toward Ava, but she had already turned her pistol upon him. She double tapped the man’s upper chest, just above the reinforced vest. He fell against the back of the SUV.

  Lazar had bolted toward Tiana’s pistol. He fired a quick burst and planted three bullets in the last gunman’s chest and head. He looked at Ava. “It’s over.”

  Tiana’s groaning told Ava and Lazar that it wasn’t.

  He pointed the pistol at her.

  “No,” Ava shouted. “Don’t.”

  Tiana lifted her head with difficulty. The light of life was growing dim in her eyes.

  Ava walked over to Tiana. Blood was still trickling from the deep shoulder wound. “I’d want to help you,” Ava said as she knelt next to Tiana. “But it’s useless. You’re going to die.”

  “For my country…” Her wheezing voice trailed off.

  Ava shook her head. “For your boss and his warped ideas. It’s because of people like you that Russia is hated across the world.”

  Tiana opened her mouth, but said nothing. She lowered her head, turned her face slightly to the left, and drew in her last breath.

  “She’s gone,” Lazar said.

  Ava nodded. “Such a shame.” She closed Tiana’s eyes. “She … she could have been someone else… Such a waste.”

  Lazar placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’ve got to go…”

  “Yes. If what Tiana said is true, Justin and Carrie will need us to extract them…”

  “And who will extract us?”

  “Call the Ukrainians. A helo would be enough. Fifteen minutes.”

  “Where?”

  “Lugapol. We’ll give them the exact coordinates when they get there.”

  Lazar shrugged. “Not sure it’s going to work—”

  “They’ll have to make it work.” She gestured toward the SUV and the hangar about midway along the runway. “Let’s get Ihor and find Justin and Carrie before it’s too late…”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Over Lugapol Military Base

  Donetsk People’s Republic

  This time, they had to fly over the entire base. The element of surprise was lost. Ava’s captors would have also warned the base about the impending attack. Justin braced for the backlash from the ground.

  It came in the form of heavy-caliber, anti-aircraft volleys.

  Justin didn’t see the flashes or hear the thumping of bullets against the fighter’s wings, but the instruments began their beeps and shrills. He flinched and looked at the panels. This is not good. He looked out the canopy, but couldn’t see the smoke pouring out of the port engine. Its noise had changed to a series of sputters and coughs, and mechanical clanging came from the other side, underneath the starboard wing.

  Carrie said, “We’re hit.”

  He knew it had to be serious, otherwise Carrie wouldn’t have mentioned it. Not in that tone of voice, despair mixed with surrender.

  “How bad is it?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she tried to drop the bombs.

  Nothing happened.

  “They’re jammed. The whole bloody system doesn’t work,” Carrie said.

  “We’ve got to bug out.”

  “We can’t.”

  “What? Why?”

  “We can’t stop now. The mission…”

  “If we can’t drop the bombs, the cannon isn’t going to do it. And we’re taking heavy fire. We’ve got to go…”

  Carrie sighed. “We can’t. The MiG is kaput. We’ve got to eject…” she said in a somber voice.

  Justin’s eyes turned into small slits. He balled his hands into tight fists. “Is there no other way?”

  “Not really. We eject three klicks away, and we’re caught. Or we eject here, and perhaps we can get this done…”

  Justin understood what she meant. “If we’re out of options… If we have to… Let’s get it done.”

  “Justin, if this doesn’t work and… and we die, I—”

  “Don’t say it, just don’t.”

  Carrie banked one last time, then the aircraft began to lose altitude.

  Carrie shoved the nose down, aiming for the warehouse.

  The instruments began to scream, but Justin ignored them.

  The ground came faster and faster.

  “Eject, eject, eject,” Carrie shouted.

  Justin didn’t lean forward. That was an amateur mistake. The gravity forces, better known as G forces, would shatter the spinal column or cause severe damage to internal organs. They weren’t wearing “G-suits,” to keep the blood away from the legs and towards the brain. He closed his eyes just as the canopy flew off. Justin and Carrie were shot upwards, blasted into open air in a flash of orange flame.

  He blacked out, only to open his eyes as the fighter jet crashed nose-first into the warehouse. It took him a few seconds to get his bearings and figure out what was happening around him. The gigantic explosion and the endless burst of flames were like nothing Justin had ever seen before, especially from this angle, from above. A series of even more powerful eruptions continued, with flames shooting in all directions.

  He pulled on the right toggle, steering the parachute away from the inferno raging underneath his feet. He cranked his head and saw Carrie floating to his left, about fifty yards away. He thought he saw her wave at him, but wasn’t sure.

  Justin steered toward her. The wind was behind, taking them in the right direction. They crossed over the base’s fenced perimeter without anyone firing at them. Men scrambling on the ground were paying attention solely to the ever-growing fire that
was swallowing barracks after barracks.

  More explosions continued as Justin began to look for a suitable drop zone. Somewhere away from power or telephone lines, things where the parachute would wrap around and electrocute them or cause them to get stuck. He found a clearing between a couple of three-story apartment buildings pockmarked by shelling and steered in that direction.

  He turned his head toward the base. Flames had grown larger and wilder, and billowing black smoke had blanketed everything in sight. He heaved a sigh of relief, but they wouldn’t be safe until they were out of the rebel-controlled area.

  When he came near the drop zone, he looked at Carrie. She was signaling for him to go first and circled around him. Justin hovered over the drop zone, then pulled a swooping maneuver, forcing the parachute to descend faster. After a couple of turns, Justin pulled down both toggles, flaring the parachute. It slowed the descent for a soft landing, but he had miscalculated the distance.

  He came crashing hard onto the debris-littered clearing and felt a sharp pain shooting from his left ankle. He rolled onto the ground as the parachute began to envelop him. He removed the helmet, reached for his knife on his ankle sheath, and cut off the parachute cords. Justin tried to climb to his feet, but the left leg just wouldn’t cooperate.

  He looked around at a few curious faces looking at him from apartment windows. A group of teens had gathered at a distance of about thirty yards, gesturing and pointing toward Justin and Carrie.

  “Here, I’ve got you.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I saw you landed hard…”

  “I think I sprained my ankle.”

  “Can you walk?”

  “Barely.”

  “Let’s go.” She lifted him up.

  “Where?”

  “Away from here. It’s not going to take them long.” She tipped her head toward the base, perhaps half a kilometer away. “And we have no idea if they’re friendly.” She nodded toward the group of teens.

  “We need a car.” Justin looked around as they left the clearing.

  “That one.” Carrie pointed at a black Skoda sedan parked in front of a café across from one of the apartment buildings. The car had a cracked windshield and signs of rust along the front and the rear wheel wells.

  Justin nodded. “If the owner is inside…”

  “Let’s check.”

  They walked as fast as Justin’s hobbling allowed them. When they came to the café, Carrie looked inside. A handful of men were sipping coffee and smoking. She turned to Justin. “How much money do you have?”

  He pulled out his wallet. “Two grand.”

  “I have two more. A great deal for that rust bucket.”

  “Go for it.”

  Carrie stepped up to the café while Justin leaned against the wall. He glanced at his left leg as another shot of pain went through his body. Instead of grimacing, he smiled. I can have a reason for my balance issues. He shrugged, then shook his head. No, I’ve got to come clean with my boss and the doctors.

  Carrie had been inside for maybe a minute when his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and smiled again. “Ava, how are you?”

  “Okay, I’m okay. Are you alright?”

  “Yes, we’re fine, both of us. How did you escape?”

  Ava snorted. “She was too self-assured. But what happened at the base? Were you shot down? The base is burning like hell. I’m certain the missile is destroyed.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m looking at the warehouse—well, at the fire swallowing it up…”

  “How’s Ihor?”

  “Good. He’s with us—well, me and Lazar. Where are you?”

  Justin glanced around for a street name. Finding nothing, he turned and looked at the café. “About half a klick northwest of the base. Outside a café called ‘Ivan’s.’” He looked through the window at Carrie walking toward the door. She waved a pair of keys. “We’ll be mobile soon…”

  “Which direction are you going? What are you driving?”

  “Black Skoda sedan. Not sure which way, but I suspect north or northwest.”

  “Make your way to the stadium. It’s five klicks northwest of the base. A helo will meet us there.”

  “Okay. See you there soon.”

  “Right away, Justin.”

  “As soon as we can, Ava.”

  Carrie opened the café’s door as Justin ended the call. “Who was that?”

  “Ava. They’ve got a helo on the way. Stadium. Five klicks that way.” He gestured with his head.

  “Good. We got the ride.”

  “Four Gs?”

  “Three. I haggled.” She smiled. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better.” He began to walk slowly without Carrie’s help.

  “Much better, but let’s make it faster.” She offered Justin her arm, and they headed toward the Skoda.

  Carrie fired the engine, then swerved around the corner. She slowed down for just a moment, as they came to an uncontrolled intersection, then stepped on the gas pedal. She tried to find the sweet spot where they wouldn’t draw the attention of rebel fighters, but also wouldn’t waste time. Search parties had to be on their way.

  She turned left up ahead, avoiding a major intersection with vehicles going in both directions. Then she made a right turn at a three-way stop and continued north, through back streets and narrow alleys. When they came to a large parking lot, Justin noticed the stadium’s outline. It was smaller than he had expected, and a rebels’ flag was fluttering in the wind. He looked for checkpoints or vehicles with gunmen, but saw none.

  “Where’s the helo landing?” he asked.

  “Not sure. Call her.”

  Justin dialed Ava’s number. She answered and said, “Justin, where are you?”

  “South of the stadium. We see the flagpole.”

  “We’re in the parking lot as well. White SUV.”

  Justin peered left and right, but didn’t see Ava’s vehicle. “Where exactly?”

  Before she could answer, a heavy rumble came from the sky.

  Justin looked up to see a black-and-green Mi-8 helicopter without any identifiable markings on it making a swift descent over the parking lot.

  “Is that our ride?” Carrie asked.

  “It is.”

  She hit the gas, and the Skoda barreled through the parking lot.

  A white SUV swerved from the right side, about forty yards behind them.

  Justin rolled down the window, expecting Ava to wave from the driver’s seat. Instead, he saw the barrel of a rifle coming out of the rear window. “Ambush, turn, turn,” he shouted at Carrie.

  She yanked at the wheel. The car slid over the asphalt and drifted around a row of parked vehicles. She had misjudged the distance, so the Skoda’s rear end brushed against the first vehicle, a red BMW.

  A series of bullets stitched a ribbon along the BMW.

  Justin looked over his shoulder. The SUV had still to appear, but it was only a matter of seconds.

  Carrie found an empty space among the parked vehicles and hit the brakes.

  Justin was thrown against the dashboard.

  She put the car in reverse and returned to the space. She had just turned the wheel when bullets struck the side of the sedan. One of the rear windows erupted with glass pieces flying over their heads.

  Carrie turned the steering wheel and said, “Where’s Ava?”

  Justin shook his head. “Don’t know.”

  Gunfire came from behind them, but no bullets struck the car.

  They were now where they had started, after completing a sort of a U-turn. The helicopter had landed about two hundred yards away, at the empty corner of the parking lot.

  A second white SUV sped toward them.

  Justin said, “That has to be Ava.”

  “Let’s make sure it is.”

  Carrie drove to the right side, away from the nearest parked vehicles. She kept an eye open for empty spaces, and, when she found one, she drove through it.


  Out of the corner of his eye, Justin noticed the driver of the second SUV waving at him.

  It was Ava.

  Ihor, in the backseat behind her, slid half his body out the window and fired a long volley from a rifle.

  Justin couldn’t see the target, but it was easy to imagine Ihor was firing at the pursuers. Justin said, “We can go to the helo now.”

  Carrie glanced at the sideview mirror. “Have they killed them?”

  Justin nodded. “Ava is almost the best female operative I’ve worked with.”

  Carrie smiled. “Good one.” She placed a hand on his shoulder.

  She kept her foot on the gas until they reached the helicopter. Six men in forest-camouflage fatigues had set up a perimeter around the aircraft. Two of them rushed to help Justin, who was dragging his left leg behind him.

  They sat him in the back of the helo, then jumped out, waiting for the Russian team.

  Justin took one of the helmets from a rack next to him and put it on.

  Carrie sat next to him and did the same.

  It didn’t take long for the SUV to reach the helicopter. When Ava slumped on the small, uncomfortable seat next to him, she said, “Justin, good to see you.”

  She moved her rucksack away from her feet, to make room for Lazar and Ihor. They gave Justin looks of admiration mixed with concern. Ihor said, “How are you, man?”

  Justin shrugged. “I’ve been better. My back is killing me.”

  “The G forces,” Ava said. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

  Carrie sat across from them in the next row of seats, then the gunmen stepped inside. The gunner leaned on the 12.7mm KV-4 machine gun mounted by the door, aiming it at the parking lot. The helicopter began to take off without the pilot or the copilot saying anything. The engine rumble was all they heard for a few moments as the helicopter climbed up. It turned on its axis and dipped its nose. The gunner shut the door as the Mi-8 picked up speed and soared upwards.

  Justin leaned his head against Carrie’s shoulder.

  She smiled at him and said, “We’re out of here, Justin.”

  He nodded and closed his eyes. He couldn’t believe it, but it was over.

  Chapter Thirty-four