“No way can we use explosives here,” Bolan stated. “And we’ve got too many people, damn it.”
“Send them back,” Yuri replied. “Let them block the way a little.”
Those who had been working in this building looked puzzled, while those who had been in the previous lab and knew what would happen to them began to panic. The panic spread among the remaining scientists. When Bolan and Yuri fired at the ground near their feet, driving them back into the walkway between the buildings, the only one not to turn and run was the woman. She backed away from the gunfire but kept staring at them coldly as she retreated.
When they had been driven back, Yuri moved quickly to slam the door behind them, firing into the keypad on the lab side of the door.
“It will slow the Iranians down. We can’t turn back now, anyhow,” he said simply. Bolan agreed, and the two men moved toward the third block and whatever fate awaited them.
With no one from the facility to activate the lock, they were now faced with the problem of gaining access to the third building, a puzzle solved for them by the stupidity of the guard, who rushed out to meet them in a meaningless display of bravado that enabled them to cut him down and progress quickly.
The third building was populated by scientists who appeared to have a similar remit to those in the last building. In the same way that there had been lead-lined cabinets and secured reinforced glass containers with rods and fissionable materials, this had smaller items that appeared to fulfill similar tasks. Bolan cast a swift glance over them while Yuri gestured to the scientists to back up and away from the equipment.
The soldier frowned. In these cabinets, it looked as though the nuclear materials were packed into their protective shells, much like what was done with the warheads, but on a smaller scale. The way in which the shells were constructed suggested that there were components that were added that included detonation and timer devices.
There was nothing that he could do about this stage of construction. The material was too dangerous to tamper with. If he could locate the mechanical and digital components of the devices, this would enable him to at least delay production until he could reach safe ground and report.
They were distracted by the shock of an explosion farther back in the buildings. The charge Bolan had laid had gone off, and the shock of the blast made the ground ripple beneath them and the walls of the building they were in creak and groan. Neither man had kept a watch on the time, and if Bolan was momentarily surprised, then so was the Russian.
Suddenly Bolan was aware of a sudden flurry of movement. One of the scientists had broken from the group. He was a young man, and although the fear could be seen on his face as he moved, he was driven by some kind of fanaticism. He threw himself at the Russian. Yuri tapped a burst that should have stopped the man in his tracks. It stitched him across the torso and groin, but instead of bringing him to a halt it was as if the agony spurred him on. With the strength he had left, he tumbled into the Russian. Despite the fact that he had stepped back to try to clear his firing arm, Yuri found himself temporarily entangled with the dying man. He swore as he tried to shake himself free and was inevitably distracted.
There were three others in the room: a woman and two more men. The men were older and slower, but the woman was young and quicker to react. She slipped past the cursing Russian and his deadweight burden, moving toward the section of the lab where the guard’s station was situated.
Bolan tried to sight on her, but the cabinets blocked a clear shot. There was no way he was going to fire with anything like that in his sight line. Glancing back to see that the two men were almost on the Russian, who had now managed to shake himself free of the corpse, Bolan ran back the length of the building, diving as he reached the end and almost feeling the shot that he heard crack over his head and smack into the strengthened glass window at his rear. He rolled and came up with the woman clear in his sight.
She was holding an AK-47 awkwardly. The recoil of the first shot had driven the barrel upward, and although she was obviously unused to weaponry, Bolan could not rely on being lucky twice. More than that, if her shooting was that erratic, then there was a chance that she could hit something that would set off a chain reaction or cause a radioactive leak.
He could see the wavering barrel of the assault rifle as she tried to keep it steady on him, as he lay on the floor with his pistol angled up. It was an instant that seemed to stretch forever. He never liked the idea of shooting someone who was defenseless, as this woman was with the lack of skill she showed. But she was fanatical and dangerous; conscience had to come second.
A simple tap on the trigger and he could see the astonishment in her eyes as the AK-47 fell and she crumpled, chest and stomach pierced by the burst of bullets.
Bolan was on his feet and turned back toward the end of the building before she hit the ground. Yuri had two men on him; he might need assistance.
The soldier had no need to back up the Russian. Yuri had dealt with the older men easily. Turning the SMG so that it acted as a club, he had taken them out with one swing. The scientists were not fighters. Any training they might have received years before was long forgotten or rendered useless by age and rust. By the time Bolan reached him, Yuri had the SMG business end around and was standing over the two men, whose skulls had been cracked by his massive swing.
“They have guts—I’ll give them that,” the Russian said simply.
“And we’re going to need them, and luck, to get out of this,” Bolan answered. “No explosives here, but take out the rest of the equipment.”
The Russian nodded, and as he took a brief look at the cabinets, he heard Bolan begin a methodic and swift destruction of the nonnuclear equipment in the lab. Yuri grunted to himself and joined the operation, ensuring it was quickly completed and they were able to move through the walkway toward the last structure. On the way out, the Russian once again shut the door and killed the electronically operated lock with a burst of fire.
“You realize they’ll be closing on us soon and we have no way out?” he said as they reached the door of the last block.
Bolan grimaced. “Two things—first, they’re forced to pursue with caution because they can’t just blast their way through without risk. Second, they think we’re trapped by the fact that there’s no way out. So maybe they’re concentrating on following and not surrounding.”
“But we are trapped, Cooper,” the Russian said blandly.
“Maybe,” Bolan replied.
They approached the last building through the covered walkway, the soldier noting through the reinforced apertures in the walls that his supposition seemed to have been correct. There was little if any sign of a military presence. Bolan figured that their tactic might have been to stand back at the barriers presented by the fencing around the compound and wait to see what the party following them into the building would flush out. With such delicate materials, they would be forced to exercise caution. This was what he hoped. It was their only chance, and a slim one at that.
Bolan halted at the door into the last structure, which was unlocked and stood ajar. He could feel the Russian at his shoulder.
“Our last exit door was also open, Cooper. I wonder if our scientific friends were a little lax in security on occasion?”
“I hope so,” Bolan murmured, cautiously moving forward so that he could edge open the door. It was possible that it was a trap laid by a desperate guard. It was also possible that the Russian was correct. But it wasn’t Yuri who was taking point. Bolan was the man who would be walking into any trap.
Aware that time was tight but unwilling to be a target for the sake of a second, Bolan edged forward. There was too much noise still coming from the camp as a whole, even muffled as it was by the thick concrete and reinforced glass walls, for him to tell if there was anyone in the room. A warning blast or a grenade to clear the roo
m—his usual method of quick clearance—was also off the agenda until he knew what the structure contained.
Taking a deep breath, Bolan kicked the door wide open and launched himself into the opening, rolling and coming up with the Desert Eagle poised to fire, trusting that Yuri would have his back for anyone at his rear.
The room was empty. For a moment, the soldier was puzzled, and that was reflected on the face of the Russian facing him. Then Yuri pointed to a spot over the soldier’s left shoulder. Bolan turned and could see that there were stacked boxes of components on a small cart, the top one open. At the side were more stacks, moved from the corner of the large room in preparation for transport.
Whoever had been in here gathering equipment had heard the alarm and panicked; any precautions had been forgotten. It was the piece of luck they needed. Quickly, Bolan reconned the building, which was one large storage facility. Within it were the components that the scientists used for the mechanical parts of the devices they were developing, the guards’ ordnance and lab supplies that were used in any other parts of the process. The only things lacking were any finished devices or anything that had a radioactive half-life. This was obvious from the lack of cases with the right construction or carrying the warning symbols.
“This is how we get out,” Bolan said, moving to the ordnance section of the building and ripping open cases.
“We’re going to blow our way out?” the Russian queried.
“Got a better idea?” Bolan asked.
The Russian’s face cracked in a huge grin. “Hell, no, Cooper. But you’re sure you’re not going to turn us into Spider-Man?”
“No nukes here, Yuri. This is just the electronics and the conventional weapons. And that suits me fine.”
Plundering the ordnance to replace what they had used, he set about his task, aided by the Russian. In essence, it was simple: blow the hell out of the ordnance in the room, crack the back wall and take out the stock of necessary mechanical and electronic components for the devices at the same time.
It was a simple plan with two problems: first, they had to hope that the caution of the military on their tails bought them enough time to fulfill the objective; second, they had to hope they could find enough shelter so that the explosion didn’t take them out with the wall.
When they had put together the ordnance and explosives, including that which they had left from their own stock, Bolan set the detonator for thirty seconds and pulled Yuri back into the walkway. The blast from the first explosions, which had taken down most of the first building if the blast was any indicator, had slowed their pursuers, but they had no real leeway. This had to work, or they would just be taking as many as possible with them before they were taken down.
There was no real shelter for them, but they huddled against the wall, back to the blast, hunkered down and protecting themselves as much as was possible. Yuri had angled the boxes of components to shield and direct the blast toward the outer wall rather than the rest of the room, but it was at best makeshift. At its worst? They were about to find out.
They could feel the heat of the blast, feel rather than hear its reverberations and the force, dissipated even as it was by the doorway wall, hit them like a hammer in the spine. Bolan shook his head to try to clear the ringing, even though he knew it was pointless, and was on his feet before the choking clouds of dust and smoke that billowed through the shattered doorway had a chance to cover him. He glanced across to Yuri, who stumbled to his feet and indicated he was okay, before moving through the almost-solid wall of smoke before them.
The back wall had disappeared into a mass of rubble and smoke. The interior of the building was scorched, with the inventory shattered into matchwood and twisted metal. At least that part of the aim had been fulfilled.
Bolan and Yuri exited through the gaping hole in the rear wall with one man covering the left, the other the right. They made for the far end of the compound, which led to an airfield where choppers of varying sizes stood idle. Far in the distance, they could see soldiers, but they were too far away to fire on.
As Bolan and Yuri ran, chattering fire rained around them. From behind and to the sides, mobilized men on foot and in jeeps headed toward them. With every passing second, they were closing in. There was no time for thought, just action, each action born and fueled by desperation and the desire to survive.
The fence at the far end had a double gate that had been left unguarded. Maybe this was the result of emergency procedures and measures born of their attack and diversion. It didn’t matter; it was unguarded but closed to them.
Yuri did not hesitate. As he ran, he took a grenade plundered from the Iranian ordnance stocks and primed it, lobbing the armed bomb at the gate with an underhand motion. At any other time, Bolan would have admitted that his companion had a good eye. The grenade landed at the base of the fence and detonated. The blast hit them, slowing them only momentarily as they were braced, and took a chunk of gate, fencing and concrete out of the ground.
They raced through and were onto the airfield. In the distance, they could see figures in the tower, but initially no one came out to tackle them. They were halfway across the apron to a Huey chopper when the first men came from the tower to engage them. Bolan and Yuri kept running, hitting the approaching men with spray and pray.
Bullets skidded off the side of the chopper as they scrambled in.
“You can fly one of these things?” Yuri asked as they made the cockpit and looked out to see enemy closing from all sides.
“Well enough to get us into the air and headed home. See what this bird’s carrying. I need you to lay down covering fire as I take off.”
The Russian disappeared into the body of the craft while Bolan gunned it into life. He didn’t bother with all the checks; they had to go. He took the chopper up, spinning her so that he came back toward the tower. He heard the reassuring chatter of a 30 mm SMG, which shattered the top of the tower.
Making the tightest turn he could risk, Bolan allowed Yuri to spray fire over the oncoming military. Their returns were sporadic as his arc of flight made it hard for them to sight while being fired on.
He kept the chopper low and gunned it across the apron toward the fighter aircraft. If Yuri could disable them, even only temporarily, then it would buy precious time. The Russian realized what the soldier was doing and complied. Even the heavy-duty SMG made little impact on a fighter aircraft designed to withstand much heavier fire.
He whirled the chopper and headed out, putting everything into gaining as much distance as possible between the helicopter and the base. There would be ground-to-air guided missiles on them before too long. They had been lucky so far.
Yuri appeared beside him.
“I assume you have a plan formulated?”
“Fly fast, dump chopper, go deep cover,” Bolan replied pithily.
“Sounds good.” Yuri nodded. “Of course, the fact that I happen to have a couple of parachutes may just make this plan a little easier. If we happen to land some distance from where this goes down, it will be a help, will it not?”
“Yeah,” Bolan said with a grin. “It can only help.”
* * *
“NOT THE BEST forced march either of us have ever had to take, but it did enough to put the Iranians off our trail. It was just a hard road slog to the rendezvous.” Bolan, talking to Hal Brognola via satellite phone, took another sip of coffee and leaned back into the plush velvet and leather sofa in Schevchenko’s coastal retreat.
“You did good work there, Striker,” Brognola said appreciatively. “Your reports will be passed on, and might go some way to smoothing those ruffled feathers after NYC. The Man will be appreciative. You should see the cover-up on Parchin. They’re claiming an accident with hardware after satellites picked up the disturbance. And they’re still denying nuclear development, by the way.”
“Let’s see them argue that with the IAEA and the UN,” Bolan said. “I see that there’s also a day of mourning for the sudden and unexpected death of a promising council member, too, if CNN is anything to go by. I would have expected some denunciation, given the mess it made.”
“What, and have to explain why he was singled out? They’re taking their warning and swallowing hard, Striker. That’s all we can ask.”
“Guess so,” Bolan agreed.
“Now, about your flight back. The embassy—”
“Whoa there, Hal. If you remember, I was about to get some leave before this blew up.” He looked out the picture window and across the expanse of the Caspian Sea. Despite what lay across the stretch of water, it was peaceful and beautiful in the early morning light. “It’s pretty chill here. You might not see me back in Moscow for a few days. I’ll let you know.”
With a curt goodbye, the soldier disconnected and tossed the phone across the room. It landed on the thick shag carpet, where it vibrated furiously as Brognola tried to call him back.
It continued to vibrate as Bolan got to his feet, stretched and walked out onto the terrace, breathing in the cool morning air.
* * * * *
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Ground Zero Page 25