The ball of fire lit up the entire area for miles around. Then it was dark again, even darker than before.
“If he reported back, we could have the whole Russian army here in no time,” Sokolov said.
“Let’s get the team out of the plane. We’ll have to stay here for now,” Edward replied. “We have to play it as if nothing has changed. We have no choice.”
CHAPTER 30
Pozharsky Corporation offices, Moscow
23:22 hours
The three military trucks came to a stop down the block from the shiny glass-and-steel office building. There were no pedestrians at this time of night, and the occasional car that passed by only sped up at the sight of soldiers in dark green combat fatigues, black bulletproof vests and black helmets, armed with Kalashnikov submachine guns, and lined up around the corner.
Yakov signaled one of his lieutenants, placing his hand on his head and pointing to the building’s main door. Not a word was said. The officer raised a fist in the air, then brought it down to shoulder height, repeating the motion several times, signaling his men to follow him. Hugging the wall, they waited for several seconds. Then a pale green Lada drove up the street and slammed into a telephone pole. The remote-controlled television camera located over the main entrance to the building turned in the direction of the accident. That was the lieutenant’s final signal. He got up from his squatting position and, still keeping close to the wall, ran for the main entrance. Stopping several feet short of the door, he allowed two men carrying large steel hammers to pass him. They slammed the hammers into the doors, shattering the glass, and he threw in two stun grenades. Barely waiting for the flash to die down, he ran in with his men, screaming at the top of his lungs. Whoever was guarding the main entrance would be in total shock.
By the time Sergei Pozharsky’s guards realized what had happened, they were riddled with bullets and the best they could do was die.
Following the break-in unit, the rest of the soldiers who had been waiting outside now made their way in, each team taking a predesignated floor.
Sergei, up in his penthouse suite, heard nothing until the large oak doors leading from the main hall came tumbling down, bringing the sweating and breathless soldiers to his bedside. The woman seated on him froze, and he had to push her aside as he tried to get to his gun in the drawer by the bed. A single bullet caught him in the shoulder, throwing him back against the satin-covered headboard. He looked at the wound in amazement, as if he had never seen blood before.
The naked woman screamed and tried to run for the door leading to the bathroom. A short burst from the lieutenant’s submachine gun stopped her in her tracks. Splattering the bathroom door with blood and bits of torn tissue, she folded and fell to the floor.
“What do you want?” Sergei shouted in horror. “Who are you, who are you working for?”
“Russia,” said the lieutenant, pushing out his chin. “We serve our country, you bag of shit. We will rid the country of scum like you, we’ll cleanse it.”
Sergei was trembling, trying to stop the bleeding from his wound with his other hand. “What do you want from me?”
At that moment Yakov walked in. “Where is the American you said you had?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Sergei tried to gain ground. Yakov drew a pistol from his holster and without any hesitation aimed it and shot Sergei in his shoulder, through the hand that was trying to stop the bleeding. “Where is the American?” He pointed his gun again.
Sergei was crying. His flabby body, now almost completely covered with blood, heaved as he shrieked loudly. “I don’t have him, he’s at the airfield.”
“What airfield?”
“I have the name in my desk,” Sergei said, trying to buy some time. He knew that he was not going to be left alive once these people, whoever they were, got their answers. He knew he had one chance to survive. This situation he was in right now did not come as a total surprise to him. The suddenness of it did, though. The way these people had made it all the way to his suite without his knowing was quite a feat, but he still had a card up his sleeve—even if he had no sleeve.
“Where in the desk?”
“The bottom drawer. There is a small compartment there. Inside that, there’s a map with the airport marked on it.”
“Up,” Yakov said, pointing to the door with his gun. “Come on, move it.”
“Please, please, let me get something to stop the bleeding,” Sergei gasped. He tried to stand up, only to fall to the floor by the bed. He lay still, trying to pretend he had passed out. “Bring him over,” the lieutenant said to two of the soldiers who were still standing exactly where they’d wound up after breaking in.
They grabbed Sergei by the arms and pulled him up. The pain in his shoulder became unbearable and he knew he was about to pass out for real. He had to stay out of his office when they opened that drawer. He made a run for the balcony door. Outside, there was a small hatch that led to a concrete safe room, if he could only reach it. The first bullet got him in the thigh. His body slumped to one side, crashing through the glass door that led to the balcony.
The second bullet hit him in the back as he lay moaning on the floor amid the broken glass, jolting his body forward. He could see the hatch, which was open, and he could also hear the click as the hidden switch in the small compartment of his desk triggered the explosive device underneath. This was meant to happen when he was already in a safe place. The blast blew out the windows of the entire floor, filling the street below with a shower of glass fragments, pieces of furniture, and uniformed body parts. Yakov, too, knew what was coming when he heard the click of the trigger, but there was nothing he could do but utter a curse.
CG Command Bunker, outside Moscow
23:50 hours
“What do you mean, you lost him?” Androva was not even attempting to sound polite. General Rogov was approaching her, having completed his briefing session in the glass-paneled office.
“He informed us,” said the voice on the phone, “that the two first locations you wanted checked were clean. He was on his way to the third when we lost him. We can’t send out a helicopter to search for him because they are all committed to other tasks. In fact, they are all out already.”
“What is it?” Rogov asked.
“I think I know where Edward and his men are.”
“Get him,” the general spat and walked on.
By now the place was humming with activity. Almost all units were in position and reports on the uncommitted units were coming in. The general had instructed his officers to set up more roadblocks that would curtail the movements of such units and send them off in other directions.
Androva had already assembled a second assault unit. She decided not to wait to hear from Yakov. That idiot would probably get lost on his way back. Besides, she had no doubts any more about the location of the airfield: It could only be this one.
There was one last thing she wanted to do before she went. She walked over to a small wooden room, the walls of which were lined with patent leather. It was the quiet room. It was used to make phone calls to faraway places when you didn’t want any background noise to give away your location. The phone was also equipped to prevent detection of its location.
“Larry?” she said when the phone was answered.
“Who’s this?” asked Joe Falco.
“It’s Natalie. Is Larry there?”
“Just a minute.”
“Natalie! How are you? Where are you?”
“I’m fine. I left my apartment. I think there was a surveillance team on me. I’m on my way to Edward. Did you want me to tell him anything?”
“Do you know where he is?”
“Sure, he told me. He’s at the airstrip outside Kolomana.”
Larry had to think fast. She had the right place, and he also knew she was calling to confirm and would probably be on her way out there with enough firepower to stop a country. “I don’t think he’ll be there,�
� he said with no hesitation in his voice. “I forbid you to go there. I want you out of that place and on the first flight back here. Do you hear me?”
“I’m not leaving him behind,” she said. “I want to be with him. How come he will not be there?”
“He’s supposed to pick up the men there and head for the Domodedovo Airport. You know, where the president is supposed to arrive.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure, I’m sure. He has to be there to connect with the Secret Service people that will get there first thing in the morning to secure the field. It’s a safe place there—you should go there too.”
“Okay. If you hear from him, tell him I’ll be there,” she said and hung up. Now she wasn’t sure anymore, but she was not going to leave any door unopened. Her future was riding on this coup: If it succeeded she would become the closest thing to a god she could ever hope to be. If it failed, she was better off dead.
Kolomana airstrip
23:59 hours
The remains of the helicopter were still burning in the field by the runway. Several of Yuri’s men had reached it with a truck and were now busy putting out the flames with two fire extinguishers. Yuri wanted it out as fast as possible. He was worried that either this chopper was not alone or that someone would start looking for it shortly.
Edward had reached the hangar as the doors finally shut. He stood there staring at the giant fuselage. From the corner of the hangar, a small square cart started towing a large mobile staircase toward the front door of the plane, just behind the cockpit. Someone had powered up the emergency generator, and the interior of the hangar was lit by a weak yellow glow from some bulbs hanging so high in the roof they looked like tiny stars.
The plane’s door opened, and Edward could see a figure standing inside, directing the staircase closer. The staircase stopped five feet short, and the men had to make the leap off the plane. One after another, each carrying his small duffel bag, the men of Edward’s team took the leap as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Sir.” The sergeant stood to attention in front of Edward. “We’re all here, ready to kick ass, sir.”
Edward smiled at Mario and shook his hand. “Good job, Sergeant. How was the flight?”
“Okay. We got to see Russia real close up.”
“I bet.”
“What were the fireworks about?”
“We had a visitor, an Mi-8 assault helicopter. We’d better get ready. We might have to leave in a hurry.”
The platoon was now standing in a circle around them. A few minutes later they were drinking hot cocoa and getting to know their Russian hosts. There was some stiffness at first. After all, these were men who for most of their lives had been trained to regard each other as the enemy, but soon they were exchanging cigarettes and trying out words on each other. A feeling of cautious comradeship began to develop.
Edward asked Yuri for a phone. He got through to an operator and finally, after almost ten minutes, he had Larry on the line. “You better get your ass out of there,” Larry said.
“What’s the matter?”
“Natalie just called. She knows where the airfield is. I told here you weren’t there and had probably gone to Domodedovo Airport, but I can’t be sure she bought it.”
“Shit, I knew I was right when I said it was good to have her on our side.”
“Yeah, it sure would be, but she’s not.”
“We can’t move the plane, not until morning anyway.”
“Get out of there now with the team. If they come for the plane, that’s just too bad.”
“I’ll see what we can do. I’d hate to lose the plane. Listen, man, I have to run.” Edward hung up and turned to Yuri. “We might not have as much time as I thought. Where are the weapons?”
“Come, I show you,” Yuri said.
The Sergeant and Sokolov came along with them. As they reached the large barn opposite the house, Edward turned to Sokolov.
“How long would it take to get here from the command bunker?”
“About two hours, give or take a bit. Why?”
“I think that’s all the time we have. The woman I know as Natalie is probably on her way here, and I believe she will not be coming alone.”
“So now she wants to fuck you,” Sokolov said, his face serious. Edward felt that the man still held him responsible for his driver’s death.
“Not funny,” Edward said.
“Not meant to be,” Sokolov replied.
“So what we do now?” Yuri asked.
“Do you think you could protect this place?” Edward stopped walking and stared at the man.
“I could maybe hold for some time, but my men are not army, they do this for money. We are like what you call, gang.”
“How many people do you have?”
“Thirty.”
“If you hold this place until morning and get my plane out of here safely, you will get ten thousand dollars a head.”
Yuri’s face lit up. “For that money we take back Afghanistan.” They shook hands and entered the barn.
Inside it was lit by a single naked bulb hanging from a wire slung over a beam. At one end of the barn was an old Soviet army truck, surrounded by bales of straw. At the other end were a considerable number of wooden packing crates. Yuri opened one of them to reveal a couple of Kalashnikov assault rifles. Edward took one out. It was not the first time he had handled one of these.
Yuri was looking at him, his dark eyes gleaming. “You like, yes?”
“Oh, yes,” said Edward, “I like very much.”
Yuri opened another case: Inside were pistols. A third case revealed hand grenades. Then there were rows of tin cases containing bullets. Beside them, in a pyramid-shaped pile, were shoulder-carried antitank missiles and another pile with some twelve Stinger missiles. And there was more.
“Sarge,” Edward said, “could you get the men in here, please?”
“Yes, sir,” Mario said and turned to leave.
CHAPTER 31
Kolomana airstrip
March 28
01:25 hours
“Piece of garbage,” said Tom Murphy, weighing the Kalashnikov in his huge hands. “I coulda made a better machine gun myself.”
Chico Valdez did not agree. “Beee-utiful!” he drawled, unleashing a burst of fire at the bales of straw at the far end of the barn.
Yuri was smiling from ear to ear. Not only had he just landed the best contract ever for himself and his men, but he liked the Americans. They were not at all what he had expected. They were real men, the kind it wasn’t so bad losing a war to, even if it was a cold war. He’d always had an image in his mind of longhaired freaks, high on something, stepping to the noise of some rock band. These men were Russian as far as he was concerned, only they couldn’t speak the language. “Edward,” he said, “why you come here?”
Edward stared in surprise at Yuri. The question was so unexpected. Until that moment he hadn’t realized that the man standing in front of him could exist on a level beyond the immediate. “What do you mean?”
“You do this for money?”
“No, of course not.”
“Why, then?”
“Free people must help other free people stay free, or they lose their own freedom in the end.”
“I wish I could be in America.” Yuri had a somber smile on his large face.
“America is an idea, a state of mind. You can make an America anywhere.” Edward noticed that all his men were silent and listening. “Okay, okay, enough with the philosophy,” he said, breaking the spell. “Yuri, do you have silencers?”
Yuri looked to Sokolov for a translation of the unfamiliar word. Sokolov said something and Yuri shook his head. “Nyet, nyet. But, come, I show you.” He walked over to a large metal trunk and opened it. Inside was an old but still functional crossbow. Edward couldn’t help laughing. Then he thought of something else. He asked Yuri if any of his men spoke English, and if so, could Edward borrow one of t
hem for a time? “In case I need someone who speaks Russian,” he explained. Yuri introduced him to a tough-looking man in combat fatigues, whose name was Vanya, and explained to the Russian that he was now under Edward’s command. Then Yuri went off to position his men around the perimeter, ready to surprise whoever might venture in their direction.
Edward turned to his men. “We’ll be leaving this place in forty minutes,” he announced. Beckoning one of the pilots, he said, “Dan, we need to talk.”
“I figured there was a problem,” Dan said grimly. “What is it?”
“You have to make a decision. Where is Archie?”
“He’s taking a nap at the house. All this weaponry and stuff is not his bag.”
“We’re going to be moving out. Yuri and his men will try and protect this place, but I can’t guarantee they will manage.”
“Where are you guys heading?”
“We’ll make for the bunker. We’re going to try and cut the general off from his command and communication, put them in disarray. Then comes your part. You know what that is, but I can’t make you or Archie do it. Things have changed since we made the plans.”
“Forget it, Edward, I didn’t come all this way for nothing. We’re going ahead with it. Like you said, this is too big a deal to leave it to some bureaucrat to solve.”
“Listen, you need to know that there is probably a crack military unit on its way here as we speak. If they get here . . .”
“Edward, like I said, I know the risks. I also know that Archie would kill me if I pulled out. You go do your thing and we’ll do ours. And when it’s over we’ll all have a drink. Now forgive my language, but fuck off.”
“Do you need some help with getting the beast out of the hangar?”
“No, it’s a fantastic deal they got here. The hangar has doors on the other side and a piece of taxiing runway from there too. I just need the door opened and I can almost fly directly from the hangar.”
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