The Malta Escape

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The Malta Escape Page 35

by Chris Kuzneski


  Payne looked over at Kaiser, who was still trying to process what had happened. He just sat there staring at his dead men as Jarkko tended to him. “Is he okay?”

  Jarkko nodded. “Dazed, but fine.”

  Jones glanced over. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but Finland sucks.”

  Jarkko shook his head. “This is not Finland. This is Russia. That is why Jarkko hate them so much. They come to Jarkko’s country and take what they want—hurt who they want. They have been doing this for years. And Jarkko is fed up. It is time to make them stop.”

  Payne leaned over and grabbed his rifle. “Fuck it. I have nothing better to do.”

  Jones nodded. “Me, neither.”

  “Good,” Jarkko growled. “Then let’s kill those commie bastards.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  With many cannons from the old fortress still mounted along the outer flanks of Island 1, there were several tunnels to service them. Cut through the exterior defense walls to the south were multiple stone archways that allowed lookouts to watch for invaders from the sea. The passageway that connected the arches ran along the southern shore, far from the combat zone in the middle of the island.

  In Jones’s mind, that was the best place to stash Kaiser.

  Since his personal bodyguards were dead and he was hobbling on one good leg, Jones directed him there with two of his men, who could keep an eye on him during the battle.

  No pun intended.

  As Kaiser limped for cover, Payne, Jones, and Jarkko focused on the remaining aircrafts. Based on the drones’ positioning—one to the north, south, east, and west—it seemed that their purpose was surveillance, not assault. That made sense, given Volkov’s proclivity for cameras and video feeds. Unfortunately, these octocopters were powerful enough to soar well above the surface of the island, making them tough to shoot down in the gusty wind.

  Having used drones for his detective work, Jones had a pretty good sense of their limitations. With that in mind, he set off to solve their drone problem, just as Payne received word from their sniper about the Russians.

  “We have incoming,” Archer said from the church.

  Payne put his hand over his ear. “More drones?”

  “Boats. Three of them. Filled with six gunmen each.”

  Jarkko groaned. “Do you ever have good news?”

  Archer smiled. “Just calling them as I see them.”

  As Jones jogged behind a bastion that cut across the center of the island, he interrupted their chat with a question of his own. “Where are the boats coming from?”

  Archer answered. “The big island to the east.”

  Jones laughed. “Nailed it.”

  Payne thought back to the briefing. Although Jones had neglected to factor in the drones, he had predicted where Volkov would launch his assault from and where they would land, and he had deployed Kaiser’s men accordingly. “About time you got something right.”

  Jones kept on jogging. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “At no point did you say Sputnik was going to crash into the center of Island One.”

  “Yes, I did,” Jones claimed. “That must’ve been when you were chowing down on Kaiser’s spread. Wow, that sounded way more sexual than I intended.”

  Payne fought the urge to laugh over an open comm. They needed the others to stay sharp as Volkov’s henchmen approached. “Archer, where are the boats headed?”

  “One to the south. One to the eastern docks. And one to Island Three.”

  Jones slammed on his brakes. The boat to the south made perfect sense. It would head around the fortified walls of the southern tip and try to make land on the western side of the isthmus where Kaiser had landed earlier. Jones had sensed that would happen and had stashed plenty of men there to handle the issue. Wearing green camouflage, they were concealed in the tall weeds of the higher ground and would spring out at the appropriate time.

  The boat heading to the eastern docks made sense as well. It was the shortest route from Vallisaari, the island to the east, and was just south of the narrow isthmus. Jones had planned for a boat to make land on the eastern shore, and the docks were a likely choice. That’s why he had positioned men in the trees between the docks and the isthmus to the north. No matter which of those options was selected by the Russians, Jones had men to cover it.

  But the boat going to Island Three didn’t make sense at all.

  If the northern drone’s feed was working, Volkov would see that the bridge between Island 2 and 3 was being guarded by a heavy gun. Although Jones knew that Volkov would gladly sacrifice some men, it didn’t make sense to lose them there.

  Unless…

  Jones thought back to the initial drone attack. The octocopters had flown down the narrow channel between Island 2 and 3, yet the man protecting the bridge didn’t call in their approach or fire upon the aircraft as they flew right past him. Either the man had fallen asleep, or Volkov had managed to take him out—whether by blade or by bribe.

  “Archer,” Jones said over the comm. “I need eyes on the bridge. Is it still covered?”

  “Hold on.” Archer used the scope on his sniper rifle to check it out. A few seconds later, he confirmed what Jones had suspected. “That’s a negative. That post has been deserted.”

  Jones cursed several times before Payne interrupted his flow.

  “Don’t worry,” Payne assured him. “I got the bridge. You stay on the drones.”

  Jones nodded. “What about the—”

  “I’ll handle it. Meanwhile, switching to channel ten.”

  The beauty of this particular communication system was the ability to password protect certain channels. Since one of Kaiser’s men had turned on them, they couldn’t continue to broadcast on an open line without being compromised, so the coded channel allowed them to maintain communication. Only the people at the initial briefing had access to channel ten, and that did not include the guard who had abandoned his post at the bridge.

  “Checking ten,” Payne announced on the new channel. “Sound off.”

  Jones, Jarkko, Kaiser, Archer, and a few others checked in.

  “Good,” Jones said once they were done. “Enough with the pleasantries. Kaiser, who the fuck was guarding the bridge?”

  Kaiser answered from the tunnel. “His name is Jim Harrison. Been with me for a while. A fuckin’ American, if you can believe it. Hard to believe he would sell me out to a Russky.”

  Payne remembered him clearly. Shaved head, thick build, no neck. He had chatted with him briefly as they had passed his station after leaving the dry dock. Payne had sensed Harrison was nervous, but he had chalked it up to pre-battle jitters. Now he knew it had been more than that. “Loyalty only goes so far. Hopefully, he’s the only one.”

  Kaiser groaned. “Should I let the others know?”

  Payne nodded. “Might as well, but I get the sense he’ll be hiding. He probably crossed the bridge and headed to Island Three.”

  “Should I send men after him?”

  “No,” Payne ordered. “Stick to the plan. We all have jobs to do, and we need to do them. Jarkko and I are on the bridge. DJ, you got the drones. And Kaiser, you stay hidden.”

  “What about me?” Archer asked.

  “Do you still have your rifle?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then start using it.”

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Despite the explosion in the center of the island, no shots had been fired until the Russians tried to make land on the eastern shore. As soon as the first henchman jumped out of the boat to tie its line to the dock, Archer followed his orders.

  A split-second later, the Russian’s head exploded in a puff of pink mist.

  Since the sniper’s shot had come from the north, the five remaining Russians scrambled onto the dock and then sprinted toward the cover of the nearby trees, but all that did was make it easier on Kaiser’s men, who had been positioned perfectly by Jones.

  Dressed in green camoufla
ge, they blended in with the leaves that surrounded them. From a distance, it seemed like the trees themselves had issued the death sentence. Before the thugs even knew what was happening, they were gunned down in a torrent of bullets.

  In the blink of an eye, a quarter of Volkov’s goons were dead.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  From his boat in the Gulf of Finland, Blokhin cursed in Russian while watching the events unfold on his screen. He was controlling the eastern drone but had failed to spot Kaiser’s men hidden in the trees, and that had led to the death of his comrades.

  If the hacker had been given more time, he probably could have figured out a way to mount an infrared camera on the drone, which might have picked up the heat signatures of the enemy gunmen, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

  Instead, he needed to shift his focus to Volkov, whose boat was a minute behind the initial three and was planning to make shore on the southeastern tip of the island. In order to prevent another grievous mistake, Blokhin ordered the driver of his boat to take them around the northern side of Vallisaari, where he could keep on eye on Volkov from above and from the water.

  As a man of science, Blokhin believed in the power of information.

  As far as he was concerned: the more data, the better.

  Blokhin turned his camera toward the south to make sure that the area was clear for his boss’s arrival. While scanning the twisty paths that weaved throughout this part of the island, Blokhin noticed a man limping past an internal defense wall. When he zoomed in closer, he instantly recognized the figure.

  “Shit!” Blokhin said in Russian. He immediately pushed the button on his headset in order to notify Volkov. “Sir, I have bad news. Kaiser is still alive.”

  Volkov seethed with anger. “How is that possible?”

  “I’m not sure, sir. But I’m watching him as we speak.”

  If Volkov had been alone, he would have lashed out in rage, but sitting on a boat with five of his best henchmen, he realized he needed to keep his composure. So he took a deep breath and tried to spin the report to his advantage. “Good! I’m glad to hear it! After all of these years, I won’t be fully satisfied with Kaiser’s death unless I do it with my bare hands!”

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Payne was a large man, but he was pretty light on his feet.

  In a former life, he had been a star athlete at the Naval Academy, playing both football and basketball at a very high level. Thanks to his impeccable conditioning, he could still run faster than most people half of his age, and that was apparent as he sprinted across the isthmus to Island 2 and continued his charge toward Island 3.

  Unfortunately, his running partner was not blessed with the same set of skills. Fueled by a steady diet of greasy foods and vodka, Jarkko struggled to keep up with his friend until he temporarily gave up and left the path to throw up behind a small cluster of houses on Island 2. While gagging but never puking, Jarkko spotted something in one of the driveways that would help his cause immensely: an electric golf cart.

  Though not a religious man, Jarkko said a short prayer of thanks when he spotted the key in the ignition. He climbed in, started it up, and then sped toward his friend, who was sprinting toward the distant bridge.

  With his ears still ringing from the blast, Payne heard the motorized hum behind him and assumed it was another drone. He was almost ready to turn and fire at the approaching craft when he heard the unmistakable sound of a horn. Just to be safe, Payne dashed from the path into the nearby trees until he could identify the source of the sound.

  Much to his surprise, the cart skidded to a stop in front of him.

  Jarkko grinned. “Mind if Jarkko play through?”

  Payne emerged from the trees. “Where in the hell did—you know what? It doesn’t matter. You can tell me on the way.”

  Jarkko slid over to the passenger seat. “Jon better drive. Jarkko gonna be sick.”

  Payne laughed as he hopped in and pressed the accelerator.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  The northern drone hovered high above Island 2. With its rotating camera, it had a clear view of the entire island as well as the northern section of Island 1.

  The drone pilot, who was on the same boat as Blokhin and the other hackers, zoomed in on the golf cart as it headed toward the unmanned bridge. Quickly calculating the distance in his head, he realized that the cart would get there before the second boat could dock on Island 3 and get its passengers across the bridge.

  “Boat two,” he said into his radio. “Abort your approach.”

  The captain of the speeding boat slowed it to a crawl. “Why?”

  “The Finn and the American are nearly at the bridge.”

  The captain cursed. He had fully expected the desertion of Kaiser’s guard to give him and his men a clear passage into the battle zone. “Give me an alternative.”

  The drone pilot scanned the northern edge of Island 2.

  Although it was lined with exterior defense walls, there was a small section that had been cleared for a tourist attraction. He had no idea if Kaiser’s men were waiting in the trees, but even if they were, it appeared the boat could safely put to shore behind a relic from Finland’s past. “Head toward the submarine.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  Payne didn’t want to be accidentally shot by his sniper, so he called in the information about his vehicle. “Just a heads-up. Jarkko and I are headed toward the bridge on a golf cart.”

  Archer laughed. “Trying to squeeze in nine before the Russians arrive?”

  Payne grinned. “Something like that.”

  Over the radio, Jones pretended to be annoyed. “You white dudes are all the same. Treating this world as your personal playground. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

  “Relax, man. You’re welcome to join us.”

  “Yes,” Jarkko added. “We need a good caddy.”

  “Screw you,” Jones said with a laugh. “I’m kind of busy at the moment. I’m trying to protect your lives with an act of heroism.”

  “By shooting unarmed drones?” Payne asked.

  “I actually had something bigger in mind.”

  “Us, too,” Payne bragged. “At least, that’s what I’m planning. I think Jarkko needs a nap.”

  Jarkko groaned. “Jarkko wanted revenge. Now Jarkko wants drink. Where is clubhouse?”

  Archer cleared his throat. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I might need to cancel your plans. The Russians just changed course. They’re turning toward Island Two.”

  Payne slammed on the brakes. “Fucking drones! They probably spotted our cart. Where are they headed now?”

  “Toward the submarine,” Archer replied.

  Jones chimed in. “We have a few men guarding the eastern side of isthmus. They’re half a klick from the sub. I can send them over.”

  Payne pushed the accelerator to the floor and turned sharply to his right, much to Jarkko’s chagrin. “I’ll beat them there, but do it anyway. Just in case Jarkko starts to puke.”

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  The third Russian boat cleared the southern tip of Island 1 and turned north. It headed past the exterior defensive walls that lined the western ridge of the island and the massive cannons that pointed toward a distant enemy that hadn’t crossed the horizon in years.

  In the glory days of the fortress, Finnish soldiers would have manned those cannons, and the boat would have been sunk before it even approached the shore. But in this digital age, a consumer drone hovered high above the western flank, making sure that the boat was clear to approach the inlet of the western side of the isthmus between Island 1 and 2.

  If Blokhin had been forthright and had shared his earlier blunder with his fellow pilots, they would have known what to look for on their control screens, but since he had chosen to conceal the information in order to protect his own ass, the pilot of the western drone made the same mistake as his team leader.

  He guided the boat to a slaughter.

  Kaiser’s men hi
d patiently in the thick trees on the higher ground. They waited until the rigid-hulled inflatable boat was dragged ashore by the Russians, who then turned and headed up the same ridge that Kaiser had climbed earlier.

  And then his men opened fire from the trees.

  One after another, the henchmen were mowed down in a torrent of copper and lead. As they died, they rolled back down the hill toward the rocky shore where they bled into the inlet like seals in an Inuit village. When the massacre was over, the shallow water had turned red, and six more goons were dead.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  During his advance planning, Volkov had studied the southernmost island of Suomenlinna like a chessboard. He realized it was well protected by bastions on three sides, and he knew the fourth side—the isthmus to the north—would undoubtedly be guarded.

  And yet, Volkov had sent two boats there anyway.

  To achieve victory, he knew he had to sacrifice some pawns.

  His goal all along was to draw the attention of Kaiser’s men to the north while he headed to the large quay to the south. In his mind, it was the only suitable place for him to make an entrance, since it had literally been built for royalty.

  Known as the King’s Gate, it was the iconic symbol of Suomenlinna and the main entrance to the fortress. Built on the site where the ship carrying King Adolf Frederick of Sweden had been anchored while he inspected the construction of the complex in 1752, the two-story gate was made with rustic masonry and framed with marble stones.

  Two decades later, the gate had been transformed into a drawbridge, and wide stairs built from Swedish limestone had led down toward the water. Unfortunately, cannon fire during the Crimean War had destroyed the original quay and many of the steps in the nineteenth century, but the King’s Gate had been refurbished multiple times over the years, most recently for Suomenlinna’s 250th anniversary in 1998.

  And the end result was quite impressive.

 

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