The Unknown

by Brett Battles

  He said to his hostage, “Faster.”

  Tiana hurried across the room and put her ear against the closed door.

  She could hear Grigory and the general moving away, toward the main part of the base.

  She almost eased the door open, thinking she could put a bullet in Grigory’s back before he could react. But she was concerned she’d make enough noise for him to hear, and he would follow through with his promise to kill Nesterov.

  There was no denying the fact the general was furious at her for not carrying out his order to kill Grigory. She was furious at herself, too. She’d acted out of respect for the unwritten soldier’s code to never turn on a comrade. But how she now wished she’d put a bullet in the bastard’s head instead of showing Grigory the exit.

  But that was a concern for another time. Now it was her duty to save the general’s life. Doing so wouldn’t wipe away Nesterov’s anger, but that didn’t matter. She had betrayed him once. She would not do so again.

  She pressed harder against the door and listened as the footsteps faded to nothing. She waited a few more seconds to make sure she wasn’t mistaken, and turned the handle.

  “I see an intersection ahead,” Jar said in Thai.

  “It’s clear,” Danara told her. “You can go right through it. You should know you’re being followed, though.”

  Jar glanced over her shoulder but didn’t see anyone. “By who?”

  “Krylov. He has General Nesterov with him.”

  “Nesterov? Who’s that?”

  Brunner looked at her surprised. “Nesterov? What about him?”

  Switching to English, Jar said, “Who is he?”

  “Should you not know that already?”

  “If I did, I would not ask you the question, would I?”

  He grimaced. “He is the big boss here, as far as I can tell. Calls himself a general.”

  “Dr. Brunner is correct,” Danara said. “Nesterov is in charge of the base.”

  Switching to Thai, Jar said, “How far back are they?”

  “Two hundred and sixty-seven meters, but they have picked up their pace.”

  “Dr. Brunner, I need you to run.”

  Corporal Mikhail Zhaparov set down his coffee and leaned forward, his eyes focused on monitor number 3. The digital overlay identified the feed as coming from a camera in sector 17.

  When the feed automatically switched to another random camera three seconds later, he grabbed his keyboard and punched in instructions to bring it back up.

  Monitor 3 went black before the feed from sector 17 reappeared. The hallway in view was empty now, but it hadn’t been before.

  He chose another camera farther along the corridor and brought it up.

  There, coming down the hall, toward the lens, was Commander Krylov and General Nesterov. When the corporal had spotted them on the previous feed, his initial thought had been, Ah, good. The commander found the general. His second thought had been, Why are they running? And so close together?

  As the two grew larger on the screen, other things disturbed Zhaparov. The general did not look happy. That in itself wasn’t so unusual, but from Nesterov’s sideways glances, his displeasure was clearly aimed at the commander. The commander, however, didn’t seem to care, and even appeared to bark something at the general, as if he had the higher rank.

  Stranger still, Krylov had an arm wrapped across the general’s back, and it almost seemed as if he was dragging Nesterov along with him.

  Zhaparov frowned, unsure what to do.

  He had grown up in a system that looked down on people who rocked the boat. Keep your head down, don’t cause any trouble, and you’ll be fine.

  But this didn’t feel like something he should ignore.

  He hesitated then picked up the phone and dialed the head of security.

  “Sir, I have something I think you should see.”

  With Danara directing their route, Quinn, Nate, Daeng, and Kincaid headed back toward the escape tunnel.

  “Stop,” Danara said.

  The men pressed against the walls.

  “Someone coming?” Quinn asked.

  “That’s not why I stopped you. I was hoping to get you closer to the way out before using you as a diversion, but I don’t think there’s enough time. Base security has spotted the men following Jar and Dr. Brunner. One of them seems to be holding the other hostage. Probability indicates it will only be a matter of moments before security sends someone to check. My concern is that this will put more soldiers in the vicinity of Jar and the doctor.”

  “You want to set off the diversion now?” Quinn asked.

  “I think it would be best.”

  Quinn glanced around at the others. “Everyone ready?”

  Thumbs up from Nate and Daeng, and a nod from Kincaid.

  “All right, Danara. Let’s do it.”

  In addition to guiding them to this point, Danara had explained what she had in mind to sow confusion among base personnel. Her plan was rough around the edges, and not quite as survival friendly as Quinn would have hoped, but after several tweaks on his part, they had a strategy that was more to his liking. There was still the potential for things to go wrong, but no more so than on most jobs taken on by Quinn and his friends.

  “Start walking,” Danara said. “The next intersection is twenty meters ahead. When you reach it, you and Nate go left and Daeng and Kincaid go right.”

  “This had better work,” Kincaid mumbled.

  “It will,” Danara said. “Trust me.”

  Kincaid grunted, but said nothing more.

  The men headed down the tunnel at double speed.

  “Putting you on camera now,” Danara said.

  “Move,” Lieutenant Dobrynin said. “I want to get a closer look.”

  Zhaparov had just shown Dobrynin, his supervisor, the live feed of Commander Krylov and General Nesterov.

  The corporal got out of the way.

  The sense that Krylov was forcing the general along seemed even more obvious to Zhaparov now than before. Dobrynin, however, was not convinced.

  “There, sir,” Zhaparov said.

  On screen, Krylov had pushed Nesterov hard enough to make the general stumble. Krylov then grabbed Nesterov to keep him from falling, and said something that looked like an angry shout, as if Nesterov himself had been responsible for losing his balance.

  Dobrynin sat back, his eyes wide in surprise. After a beat, he reached for the phone, but before he picked it up, a new feed appeared on monitor 2.

  “Sir!” Zhaparov said, pointing at the monitor.

  On the screen were four men, walking fast down one of the corridors. They were all armed and wearing small backpacks, and none of them were in uniform. It wasn’t necessarily an unusual sight. Off-duty soldiers would often make their way to the indoor firing range for target practice. Only this time, one of the men on the monitor was a large African.

  There was no one of African descent serving at Lonely Rock.

  “Where is that?” the lieutenant asked.

  Zhaparov leaned forward to check the identifier. “Hallway 7, sector 22.”

  The feed switched to a new random shot.

  “Dammit,” Dobrynin said, poking at the keyboard. When nothing happened, he pushed out of the chair. “Bring it back!”

  Zhaparov swung back into his seat and typed in the command to pause the autorotation. The feed that had featured the intruders returned to monitor 2.

  The men were gone.

  “You’ve got the wrong feed,” Dobrynin said.

  “No, sir. This is correct.”

  “Then where are they?”

  “They probably moved out of the camera’s range. Let me switch to the next one.”

  The corporal called up the new feed.

  “I’m not seeing anyone,” Dobrynin said through clenched teeth.

  “They must be moving faster than I thought,” Zhaparov said.

  He skipped ahead three cameras, positive the intruders couldn’t
have run that far yet. But no one was in that feed, either.

  “They’ve got to be somewhere!” Dobrynin shouted.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll find them.”

  “Move over. Let me get to the phone.”

  Zhaparov scooted his chair over enough for Dobrynin to squeeze in and snatch up the receiver.

  “This is Lieutenant Dobrynin. Alarm level four. There are intruders in the base!”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  A few meters before Quinn, Nate, Daeng, and Kincaid reached the intersection where they’d part, Danara said, “You might want to cover your ears.”

  Since they were each carrying a gun and had only one hand free, they ignored her suggestion.

  As they turned at the intersection—Daeng and Kincaid going right and Quinn and Nate going left—a loud whoop-whoop-whoop-whoop-whoop blared out of overhead intercom speakers. This went on for about ten seconds, before being replaced by a voice shouting in Russian. When the speaker finished, the alarm returned.

  “What did he say?” Quinn asked, not sure his voice could be heard over the din.

  “Intruder alert,” Nate said above the noise. “And apparently we’re in sector twenty-two.”

  “Were in twenty-two,” Danara said. “Daeng and Kincaid have entered sector thirty-seven. You and Quinn are in sector twenty-three now.”

  “Excess information,” Quinn said. “Just tell us where to go and warn us if anyone’s coming.”

  “Noted. Daeng and Kincaid, you will continue for one hundred and ten meters, then turn right again. Base personnel are being deployed to their alert stations. There is a group closer to Daeng and Kincaid’s current position than I would like. Quinn, with your permission, I would like to expose you and Nate again.”

  “Let us know when to smile.”

  “That’s funny. You will be on camera in three…two…one…”

  “There they are!” Dobrynin said, knocking into Zhaparov’s shoulder as he jutted forward.

  “Where are the other two?” Zhaparov said.

  “They must be ahead of them.” Dobrynin picked up the phone again. “They’re in sector twenty-three, ring hallway three, heading toward twenty-four.”

  The alarm that had been shrieking outside the monitoring room paused again.

  “All personnel—intruders in sector twenty-three, ring hallway three. Heading toward sector twenty-four. Close in and apprehend.”

  The message repeated twice more, then the alarm kicked back in.

  On the monitor, the two men moved out of the camera’s view. Zhaparov switched to the next feed.

  The men weren’t there.

  “They must have some kind of signal-blocking tech,” Dobrynin said.

  As far as Zhaparov knew, no device could remove someone from a live feed and yet leave that feed playing, but he kept this thought to himself.

  He toggled through the cameras in the area, trying to pick up the intruders from another angle.

  But the entire corridor was empty.

  What the hell?

  When Jar and Brunner took their next turn, Jar recognized the hallway almost immediately. Yes, many of the hallways looked the same, but Jar’s brain worked in a way that automatically picked up little details wherever she went. A scratch here and a scuff mark there were all she needed to ID her location.

  Two more intersections ahead and they’d be in the hallway where the bunk rooms she’d sneaked through were. Which meant it wouldn’t be that much longer until they were in the long corridor back to the vent.

  The relative quiet they’d been experiencing was suddenly shattered by an alarm blasting from the ceiling.

  Yelping in surprise, Brunner slowed.

  “Keep moving,” Jar said, then switched to Thai. “Have we been seen?”

  “No,” Danara replied. “It’s part of a diversion to clear your way. Keep going.”

  “Copy.”

  “What is happening?” Brunner asked.

  “My friends are giving us the chance to get away. Now keep up.”

  She gave Brunner another tug and started to run.

  Grigory had no doubt the alarm had been set off because of him. The backstabbing Tiana had called security and ratted him out.

  The general seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he slowed down.

  “Keep going!” Grigory yelled, shoving Nesterov in the back.

  As the old man stumbled ahead, the announcement that intruders were in the base came over the intercom.

  It did nothing to change Grigory’s mind. This first was a generic message to get everyone moving. Soon would come another announcement, identifying him as the intruder.

  He grabbed the general and kept them moving down the hall. His biggest concern was the alarm was preventing him from hearing Brunner’s footsteps. He needed to cut the distance between them fast, so that he wouldn’t lose his prey in the maze of corridors.

  Less than a minute later, another announcement came over the speakers, giving the location of not the intruder but intruders. And the location was nowhere near Grigory and Nesterov.

  Grigory had been wrong. Security wasn’t looking for him at all.

  Who the hell would have broken into Lonely—

  The bridge of his nose creased.

  Were these intruders the same people who had tried to stop him and Tiana from leaving Slovakia?

  Could he be so lucky?

  He didn’t know for sure that he was right, but it was a reasonable enough assumption.

  And if it was them, the entire base would be mobilized to hunt them down.

  Meaning no one would bother Grigory.

  Another thought hit him. One that wasn’t quite as encouraging.

  Was one or more of the intruders leading Brunner away?

  Unfortunately, that also seemed plausible.

  He grimaced. He would have caught up to Brunner long ago if not for Nesterov.

  He’d kept the old man in case the need to use him as a negotiation chip arose. But that concern was becoming less and less important.

  “Grigory!”

  The shout had barely risen above the sound of the alarm, but he recognized the voice nonetheless.

  Tiana.

  He whirled around, pulling the general in front of him. Tiana stood forty meters away, holding a gun aimed at him and Nesterov.

  “Don’t come any closer!” Grigory yelled back, brandishing his needle-enhanced watch.

  “If you let him go, I’ll make sure you’re treated fairly.”

  Oh, boy, did he want to laugh at that. But that would waste time he could spend catching up to Brunner.

  “Drop the gun or he’s dead!” he shouted.

  She didn’t flinch, no doubt thinking he was bluffing again.

  He slapped the needle into the general’s neck.

  “Wait! No!” Nesterov shouted.

  “Too late,” Grigory whispered in the old man’s ear.

  He shoved Nesterov to the side, darted to the opposite wall, and sprinted away from Tiana.

  A flurry of bullets flew toward him. The shots smacked into the wall and ceiling, but none hit him. As he’d hoped, he’d caught her off guard, and was able to make it around the curve of the hallway before she could pull herself together.

  He figured he now had at least half a minute, maybe more, because Tiana would never leave the general unattended.

  He sprinted down the corridor.

  “No!” Tiana screamed as she pulled the trigger over and over, until she finally stopped so that she wouldn’t use up the entire magazine.

  She rushed forward.

  Grigory was gone, but the general was lying on the ground, his chest moving up and down erratically.

  She crouched beside him and tried to take his hand, but he pulled it away.

  He said something, but his voice was too soft to hear above the alarm.

  She leaned in close.

  “You…did…this,” he whispered.

  Her chest clenched, and in that mom
ent she would have gladly traded places with him. “I-I know. This is all my fault. I’m so, so sorry.”

  “Kill…him….”

  “Yes, sir. I will.”

  He raised his head a few centimeters, his mouth hovering next to her ear. “You…must…keep…it…” It seemed as if he wouldn’t finish, but then he said, “…going.”

  His head fell back to the ground, where it lay for several seconds. He then took a last stuttered breath before his chest stopped moving.

  Tiana fell back on her heels, tears gathering in her eyes. All her training told her she should try to resuscitate him, but she knew it would do no good. There was no coming back from the toxin in the watches.

  You must keep it going.

  Future Planning. That’s what he meant.

  She didn’t think she could come close to filling his shoes. But it was an order. His last. She would have to at least try, wouldn’t she?

  Yes, she would. But that was for later.

  She pushed to her feet.

  The general’s other order was something she could act on now.

  Jar leaned against the door, trying to listen for Krylov’s footsteps on the other side. Danara had warned that the kidnapper was quickly gaining on them. She had advised Jar to find cover as soon as possible. Having been this way before, Jar had led Brunner into the nearest unoccupied dorm room.

  Now she listened at the door, but it was impossible to hear anything over the whooping alarm. Even if the intercom had been quiet, Brunner was panting so loudly he would have masked any footsteps.

  “Quiet,” she whispered harshly. “Do you want them to find us?”

  Surprised by her tone, the scientist stopped breathing for a moment. When he started again, it was at a lower level.

  “Status,” Jar said in Thai.

  “Krylov will be passing your position in thirty seconds. There is another problem, however. The woman, Snetkov, is chasing him, and is about forty-five seconds behind.”

  “What happened to the old man?”

  “Krylov killed him.”