Fractured: V Plague Book 15

by Dirk Patton

  “If I do not, they will run all of us down within ten minutes. I can at least buy you some time. There is a small village five kilometers to the south. On the banks of the river.”

  He ripped open a hole in the lining of his coat and reached inside. When he removed his hand, he held out a small, canvas bag that jingled slightly as she took it.

  “Ten gold coins,” he said. “You should have no problem purchasing a vehicle from one of the villagers. Now, go!”

  He started to step around her, but Irina grabbed his shoulders to stop him. Her uncle stood watching, wheezing quietly as he slowly caught his breath.

  “No! I will not leave you! We can outrun them.”

  “We cannot,” he said, shaking his huge head. “But you can, if I stop them. Do not forget why we are here and what still must be done if our people are to survive. Both of you are important. I am not.”

  Irina stared into his eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “You know there is no other way,” he said softly, pulling her into an embrace.

  She buried her face against his chest, circling her arms around his waist and holding tight.

  “I love you,” she sobbed, the words catching in her throat.

  “And I, you.”

  He tilted her head up with his hand and pulled the scarf to the side. Leaning down, he kissed her frozen lips, then gripped her shoulders and pushed her away.

  Shevchenko stepped forward, softly clearing his throat.

  “There must be another way, young man. Do not sacrifice yourself for me.”

  “I sacrifice myself for Russia,” Igor rumbled. “And for her. Now, you must go. Do not fail in what you have to do!”

  “As long as Barinov is dead, I will succeed,” Shevchenko said, his voice growing stronger.

  “The man hunting him does not fail,” Igor said firmly. “Barinov will die.”

  The man nodded, holding Igor’s eyes with his.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “Do not thank me,” Igor snorted. “We should have killed all of your kind many years ago, then we would not have this problem today.”

  Shevchenko stared in surprise, then smiled. His head snapped around when fresh barking from the dogs erupted from the dark forest, sounding much closer.

  “Keep the moon over your left shoulder and you will stay on course. As it rises, it will be at your back. If it is not beside or behind you, you are going the wrong way. Now, go!” Igor said urgently.

  Irina hesitated a beat, then grabbed her uncle’s arm, turned and ran. Igor watched them for a few seconds, then took a deep breath and looked around the immediate area.

  He was standing at the edge of a small clearing, no more than fifty meters across. Surrounded by forest, the snow-covered ground glistened in the light of the moon, which made his and Irina’s tracks stand out. They were a straight, dark line on the pristine surface that pointed the direction she and her uncle had gone.

  Running forward in the disturbed snow, Igor turned right when he reached the middle of the clearing and kept going until he was thirty meters into the forest. Snapping a thick bough off a tall tree, he followed his trail back to the center. Bending at the waist, he retreated toward the forest along the newer path, brushing the snow as he went. The tracks weren’t erased completely and it was obvious that there had been an attempt to conceal them. That was exactly what he wanted.

  Once back in the forest, Igor moved beneath the spreading branches of the trees where the ground was clear of snow and he could walk without leaving obvious signs of his passing. Twenty meters in from the clearing, he leapt and grabbed a thick, horizontal branch. Pulling himself up, he worked around until hidden in the foliage. Drawing the pistol, he made sure it was ready to go, then pulled the knife and held it tightly in his other hand.

  He had a nearly unobstructed view of the clearing and settled in to wait, hoping his simple trick would work. The sound of the dogs was loud in the night air and he could tell he would know soon enough. Sitting in the tree, he allowed himself to think about his situation.

  Finding Shevchenko alive had been a surprise after having been told by another prisoner that Irina’s uncle was dead. Igor didn’t understand what game the man had been playing, but counted himself fortunate to have found the man they were there to rescue. But it still bothered him. Why tell them the Admiral of the Fleet was dead?

  But now, it didn’t matter. All that did was for Irina and her uncle to escape and the old man to seize power over what remained of Russia. That was what John had explained to him had to happen, and over the past several months Igor had come to trust the American. Implicitly.

  He didn’t expect to survive this encounter. If it had only been men hunting them, he was confident he could have melded into the trees and picked them off one at a time. He was very good at that. But dogs drastically changed the dynamic.

  His only hope was that there weren’t as many of them as it sounded like. He was comfortable that he could get one or two shots off, in quick succession, to take out the dogs. After that, dropping out of the tree and taking the fight to the guards was something he could have done in his sleep. But if there were three or more animals, his chances went down significantly.

  The longer he had to spend spotting, targeting and shooting dogs, the more time he gave the poorly trained camp guards to realize where he was and begin returning fire. Once they had him spotted, he was a sitting duck. But coming out of the tree before the dogs were all down wasn’t an option. They’d be on him in a flash, taking him to the ground. Even if he did manage to win that battle, which was doubtful, it would give the men time to get into the fight.

  No, the only way to do this was to take out the dogs. If that meant he was killed by rifle fire, then so be it. He wasn’t important. Irina and her uncle were the ones that mattered. And without the hounds on their trail, the odds of them reaching the village went up dramatically. Igor didn’t believe the guards would continue their pursuit without the animals.

  With a deep breath, he steeled himself for what was coming. Then movement at the northern edge of the clearing caught his attention and he shut down all thoughts other than how best to attack.

  Two men, each with long leads connected to a pair of straining dogs, came into view. Four dogs. Igor filed this away, but didn’t let it worry him. At least they were close together because of being on restraints. A few seconds later, four additional men trudged out of the trees. Each carried a rifle, the weapons low and pointed at the ground.

  The guards were tired. There was no doubt that they had run much of the way to catch up with Igor, Irina and the escaped prisoner, and they were winded. He was sure he could have easily outpaced them on his own, but that didn’t matter at this point. Focusing on the men and dogs, he watched as they reached the center of the clearing and came to a stop. The two handlers stared down at the ground, then their heads moved as they looked first at the obvious trail, then viewed the path to where Igor waited.

  “Come on, you fucking bastards,” Igor muttered to himself. “Take the bait.”

  The other four men reached the point where the two trails diverged and the group came to a stop. One of them stepped forward, carefully examining the snow, then turned to the others and began speaking. As he talked, he extended his arm, first along the path Irina had taken, then toward the forest where Igor waited. He waved his arm from side to side, in a sweeping motion, then pointed emphatically in Igor’s direction.

  Slowly, the squad reoriented itself and the two dog handlers began leading the way. Hidden amongst the thick boughs of a massive pine tree, Igor gripped the pistol tighter and smiled as they approached.

  19

  I stood to lead the way to the rear fence and nearly tripped over a bush. It was to my left and I didn’t see it until I’d already stuck a foot into a tangle of trailing vines growing from it. Without a word, Lucas moved past me and headed for the perimeter. With Rachel following him, Dog and I brought up the rear.

 
Wellington’s compound was several acres and it took us a few minutes to cover the open ground. Dog wasn’t alerting, but I wasn’t sure that he would in the absence of an infected. We came to a stop and dropped to the ground when Lucas held up a clenched fist. Looking in the direction he was facing, I could see a pair of men patrolling the outside of the fence.

  It took them several minutes to pass out of sight. Once they were gone, Lucas leapt to his feet and ran to the six-foot chain link fence that formed the perimeter of the compound. Without breaking stride, he jumped, placed a hand on the top rail and vaulted over. Rachel, who had probably never run an obstacle course in her life, came to a stop before climbing over. I crossed in the same manner as Lucas and Dog cleared the barrier in a seemingly effortless bound.

  Lucas was looking to our left, making sure the two soldiers hadn’t heard the soft jingle of the fence as we crossed. I scanned right, something catching my attention. A man was standing behind a sedan parked on the side of a narrow road. He was bringing a rifle around to target us and I’d caught a brief glint from a streetlight reflecting off the scope’s glass.

  There was no time to shout a warning and I threw myself at Rachel and Lucas who were only a few feet apart. As we tumbled to the ground, there was a faint report from the direction of our attacker, telling me he was using a suppressed weapon. I heard and felt the shockwave of a heavy bullet pass just above my back.

  “Shooter!” I screamed, twisting around to face the threat.

  I didn’t take time to aim. Wasn’t even sure there wasn’t already a bullet on its way toward my head. Instead, I pointed my rifle in the general direction of the sedan, pulled and held the trigger. The M4 was unsuppressed and shockingly loud in the still night. Rachel joined me an instant later and we thoroughly hosed down the car, shattering glass, flattening tires and riddling the sheet metal with bullet holes.

  “Move!”

  I jumped to my feet and ran for the protection of a squat warehouse on the far side of the street. Rachel was at my side, Dog sprinting ahead. We skidded to a stop behind a large delivery van and I looked around for Lucas. He still lay on the ground near the fence, unmoving.

  I tugged on Rachel’s arm to get her moving in the right direction. Along the back edge of a parking lot was a water control channel that disappeared into a culvert that ran beneath a broad thoroughfare. We leapt over the curb and into the concrete ditch, running into the concealing darkness of the duct beneath the road before coming to a stop. Ahead of us, I could see the channel continue on the opposite side of the street.

  “Hear that?”

  Rachel mumbled the question at the same time I began hearing the distant wail of approaching sirens. Soon, they reached a crescendo as three police cars passed directly overhead.

  More cops were coming and I began to hear the beat of a helicopter. Not the heavy pounding of a Black Hawk, but the lighter sound of a smaller helo. The kind that’s used by police departments.

  “Let’s go,” I said to Rachel when I made the only decision I could. “Leave your rifle.”

  “What?” she said, still unmoving.

  “Just do it,” I said, dropping mine and the set of NVGs into the dirt that had been washed into the tunnel. All I kept was a pistol and knife, which weren’t too effective against a sniper. “We can’t conceal them and all they’ll do is draw attention. Now, move!”

  She did as I said and we hurried to the far end, pausing before emerging into the open. Dog stayed at my side as I took a second to stick my head out and scan the area. For the moment, it was clear.

  We reached the edge of the parking lot and transitioned into a residential area that bordered the commercial buildings. The road was narrow, lined with small homes on the far side. None of them had driveways, the owners having to park on the street. Crossing, I turned us left, away from the center of the activity.

  A police car turned out of a side street a block to our front. Its siren was silent, but the roof lights were strobing brilliantly in the night and a roof mounted light was being played across the lawns and parked cars. It took the cops about two seconds to spot us.

  “Keep your cool,” I said to Rachel as the vehicle’s engine roared.

  I brought us to a stop, just like law-abiding citizens, and stood holding Rachel’s hand. We were caught in the beam of the cop’s light and it stayed solidly on us as the car screeched to a stop a few yards away. Both front doors opened, but I couldn’t see the officers behind the glare.

  “Please stay where you are!” a voice shouted.

  “What’s wrong officer?” I called.

  “Please keep your hands in sight, sir,” the same voice called.

  A moment later, a dark figure stepped between two cars to our front.

  “What’s your business this evening?” the cop to my front asked.

  “We’re just out walking our dog before going to bed,” I said, trying to sound frightened. “What’s wrong? What did we do?”

  “I need to see some ID, please, sir,” he said. “You and the lady, both.”

  “I didn’t bring my wallet,” I said, turning to Rachel. “Honey, do you have yours?”

  “I left my purse,” Rachel said, releasing my hand and making a helpless gesture.

  The cop was quiet for a moment, probably frustrated that this was taking longer than it should have. We weren’t presenting an image of people who had just been shooting up the city, but he had enough time on the job that something was tickling a warning in his head.

  “Please stay where you are with your hands in sight,” he said after a long pause.

  He disappeared between the cars, returning to his vehicle. While they were talking, the helicopter drew closer and suddenly we were bathed in the blinding light of its spot. Rachel and I both looked up, just like anyone would, but I was taking the opportunity afforded by the large diameter of illumination to scan our surroundings.

  As the helicopter circled in a tight orbit with us pinned at the center of its light, I searched the edge of the commercial office buildings on the far side of the street. At first, all seemed calm, then a flash of movement on the roof of a one-story building drew my attention.

  “Down!” I screamed, pulling Rachel with me as I fell to the sidewalk.

  I heard the crack of a bullet. The cops immediately began yelling for us to stop and I was certain they had their weapons out. Rolling, I shoved Rachel against the side of a vehicle for protection and grabbed Dog, pushing him against her.

  “Sniper behind you!” I screamed at the cops, but they either couldn’t hear over their own shouts, or they didn’t believe me.

  Both moved onto the sidewalk this time, one on either side of us. They had drawn their pistols and aimed them at us, screaming commands as they cautiously approached. I screamed back that there was a shooter across the street, but they ignored me and kept advancing.

  From behind, there was the roar of an engine. Probably more cops coming. Tires screeched in the street and the sergeant glanced at the source of the sound, swiveling his aim in that direction an instant later. He was opening his mouth to shout a warning to his partner when his head suddenly dissolved into a cloud of pink mist.

  Getting to my knees and keeping my head below the level of the car’s windows I was sheltering behind, I drew my pistol and scrambled to the rear bumper. The other cop was aiming his weapon at the street, shouting for someone to drop their gun. I screamed for him to get down an instant before his chest was blown out and he tumbled dead to the ground.

  Taking a fast peek, I saw a compact SUV sitting dark in the middle of the street, two men armed with rifles dashing for the line of cars I was hiding behind. I fired two fast shots and one of them stumbled before I lost sight of him.

  The helicopter was still orbiting, the pilot keeping the light focused directly on us. He had failed to notice the sniper, only concerned with the two cops who had been shot. His light suddenly went dark and a few seconds later there was the sound of broken glass falling to th
e street. The sniper was engaging the helo.

  “Get in the cop car! RUN!” I shouted to Rachel, keeping my pistol trained on where I expected the two new attackers to appear.

  A head had just popped up over a car, then automatic rifle fire chattered in the night. Bullets tore into the trunk and rear window next to me as I fired two more shots. I don’t know if either found their mark, but the head disappeared.

  Hoping the sniper was otherwise occupied, I stayed low and dashed for the police car. As I moved, the sound of the helicopter changed to a pounding roar, as if it were making sudden maneuvers. I couldn’t tell if it was trying to avoid incoming fire or if it was crippled and about to crash down onto my head.

  More bullets came my way as I ran and returned fire without aiming, simply hoping to keep the shooter’s head down. The car was just ahead, pointed to my left. The closest door, on the driver’s side, stood open. I could see Rachel and Dog inside, waiting.

  Another bullet screamed by. Stutter-stepping, I twisted to return fire and hesitated when the shooter who’d arrived in the SUV suddenly pitched sideways with a shattered skull.

  I started to glance up at the sniper, but had to turn and cover my face when the police helicopter plummeted to the road less than fifty yards away and burst into a ball of flame. Turning, I dove for the open car door, catching a glimpse of the roofline which was brightly lit by the burning aircraft.

  A tall man stood watching me, long rifle in his hands. But the muzzle was pointed at the sky, not at me. In that brief instant, it struck me that this wasn’t the same man that had pursued us from Wellington’s training compound.

  I was in the car now, momentarily confused when there wasn’t a steering wheel in front of me. I’d forgotten that Australia was a right-hand drive country. Rachel was gripping the wheel tightly and I shouted at her to get us moving as I slammed the door.

  The street ahead was completely blocked by the flaming wreckage of the helicopter, so she threw the police car into reverse and floored the gas. We shot backwards, wobbling a couple of times and nearly sideswiping the line of parked vehicles.