by Ted Halstead
"Well, anything is possible," Alina said uneasily.
Neda and Kharlov both had the same thought. Kharlov's guess sounded uncomfortably close to the truth.
"Once we get to Mobile, we will stop to buy food and gas. Kharlov, then you will take over the driving until Houston when it will be Neda's turn. I will take the final leg once we are near Laredo, and then after crossing the border, we should reach Monterrey in about three hours," Alina said.
"So, I should meet you in Monterrey, then?" Kharlov asked.
Alina nodded. "Eventually. First, if you successfully cross the border, find a safe location as soon as possible and contact Evgeny. He will get you to Monterrey and arrange transport for all of us out of Mexico."
"Understood," Kharlov replied.
Alina gave him a sharp look but said nothing. She knew it wouldn't help.
Overconfidence had killed many agents, including ones even more capable than Kharlov.
Time would tell if it was about to claim another victim.
Chapter Thirty
Highway US-59 South
10 Kilometers Northeast of Laredo, Texas
Neda slowed their sedan, and at Alina's signal, prepared to exit US-59 South, the highway they had been on since leaving Houston. As Alina had calculated, they needed gas. Filling up at the next highway rest stop should be enough to get them to Monterrey, as long as they didn't spend too much time idling at the border.
"So, a few points before we part company," Alina said. "I recommend you wait until nightfall to cross. There are security lights at several points along the river, but they are easily avoided. Vegetation, including salt cedar and carrizo cane, is plentiful and should be used to shield you from view until you begin your swim, which will be about fifty meters from one side to the other. Avoid snakes since several species are poisonous. However, attacks in this area are uncommon."
"Great," Kharlov said with a smile. "Well, this was my idea, so I suppose I can't complain."
Alina arched one eyebrow but let the comment pass.
"As usual, the only real danger is the two-legged variety. Avoid anyone you see. Persons headed north across the Laredo area border are far more likely than average to be single travelers trying to avoid apprehension. Most persons crossing in other regions are part of family groups who actively seek to surrender themselves to the Border Patrol and claim asylum. In this area instead, dozens of border agents are assaulted each year, and over ninety percent of apprehensions are of single adults."
Kharlov frowned. "Why the difference here?"
"Perhaps because of heavier than average drug smuggling activity. This area on the Mexican side is controlled by the Cartel del Noreste (CDN), the rebranded and reorganized version of the Zetas. Their second greatest income generator is kidnapping, which will be your primary danger once you cross the border," Alina said.
"Let me guess. You've been to Mexico before," Kharlov said.
Alina shrugged. "Several times. Now, if the CDN captures you, make sure they see your card with Evgeny's alias. It should prevent you from being killed rather than ransomed, which is what would happen if they decided nobody would pay for your release. Just say you are Evgeny's employee and refuse to give any other details. If you make something up, they will be suspicious."
Kharlov shook his head. "You seem convinced I'm going to walk straight into their arms. Many in both Chechnya and Ukraine have discovered I'm not so easily killed or captured."
Alina looked at Kharlov expressionlessly. "If I thought you had no chance, I wouldn't have approved your plan. All that is left now is to wish you good luck and take you to a point within walking distance of the river."
"No, we've already discussed this. A lookout notice is certainly circulating with my likeness and the notation I am traveling with two women. Drop me off in town, where I'm sure I'll find plenty of taxi drivers willing to take me close enough to the river that I won't need to walk far. I've already got an address picked out," Kharlov said.
Alina gnawed at her lower lip and finally nodded. "Fine. Grab something quick to eat before you get in the cab. It may be a while before your next meal, and there's still plenty of time before nightfall. Good luck."
Kharlov nodded. "Thanks for all the good advice. I'll look forward to seeing you both in Monterrey."
Neda smiled and said, "Good luck from me too. Enjoy your swim!"
The Rio Grande River
Near Laredo, Texas
Kharlov's stomach was actively questioning his earlier choice of food. It had been quick, filling, and cheap. And it had tasted fine, especially compared to what Kharlov had often been forced to eat in the field.
But it brought to mind an old saying. Cheap doesn't always mean a bargain.
However, it wasn't Kharlov's principle misgiving. No, that was his insistence on taking a taxi to a spot near the river, a garage on the city outskirts, rather than letting Alina drop him off.
The taxi driver had accepted his fare readily. When he'd asked whether Kharlov needed him to wait, the driver had appeared to believe Kharlov's explanation that he was picking up his repaired car. The driver had even smiled gratefully when Kharlov gave him a generous tip.
But as soon as he drove off, Kharlov saw the driver had a phone pressed to his ear.
Maybe he was being paranoid.
But as the taxi disappeared, Kharlov noticed that the garage was very quiet, with only a single mechanic at work. And only a few cars were present, none of them anywhere close to being fully repaired.
This garage was probably not the first choice for most heavy-tipping, English-speaking customers.
So what else would Kharlov be doing here, the taxi driver was probably wondering.
Or maybe, Kharlov thought bitterly, he'd already guessed.
So, call another cab, and try his luck at another spot?
Kharlov quickly discarded the idea. If the driver had alerted criminals on the other side, they wouldn't be looking for him only at this stretch of riverbank. No, his best chance would be to cross before word had an opportunity to make it to this area.
It was almost dark enough to cross right now. It surely would be by the time Kharlov walked from here to the river.
Kharlov was right. And so far, luck appeared to be with him. He had seen no one, and no lights were visible on either side of this stretch of riverbank.
Best of all, heavy clouds prevented the light of a quarter moon from providing more than a faint glow. Kharlov was confident he could cross without being observed.
Compared with the swims Kharlov had endured in Spetsnaz training, crossing the Rio Grande was no challenge. Not particularly cold, and only a fraction of the length he'd faced back then. Best of all, no full combat pack was doing its best to drag him to the river's bottom.
Kharlov grinned to himself as he grasped some vegetation to pull himself up the riverbank's southern side. Alina had been right. It was a cane plant of some type.
Welcome to Mexico!
Kharlov froze as he heard several voices and crouched dripping as they came closer. He couldn't make out what they were saying and only knew a few words of Spanish anyway.
A light snapped on about ten meters away and played back and forth along the riverbank. Fortunately, it came nowhere near Kharlov.
So, they'd been alerted but hadn't spotted him yet.
The light vanished, and the voices went silent. All nearby movement ceased.
Kharlov knew that didn't mean the coast was clear. Instead, he was sure the men whose voices he'd heard earlier were watching and waiting.
There was nothing for him to do but watch and wait as well.
The minutes crawled by as Kharlov wondered whether he was dealing with professionals or amateurs. Would they stay quietly in place until dawn, or maybe beyond?
No.
After only about half an hour, the light snapped back on—this time, only about five meters away.
The light played back and forth on the riverbank but never came c
lose enough to reveal Kharlov. Mainly since he had used the…what had Alina called it… carrizo cane to hide his position from anyone viewing from a distance.
Then the light went off once more.
Kharlov heard the voices again. But this time, they were receding.
Another half-hour passed.
Slowly, the total stillness present during the first half-hour wait was replaced with ordinary insect and small animal sounds.
So, a single lookout might have been left behind. But the larger group, at least, was gone.
Probably.
Kharlov had to account for the fact that years of experience in the varied wilderness territories of Russia and Ukraine might not apply directly to this setting.
Well, Kharlov had to move out at some point. And be well away from this river by dawn.
Or even better, to the hotel he'd identified in Nuevo Laredo by then.
His decision made, Kharlov began to move out. And immediately cursed under his breath, as he discovered the carrizo cane that had made such excellent concealment was not so easy to leave.
At least, leave quietly. Kharlov still suspected a lookout was lurking nearby. It's what he would have ordered. And he'd have left one of his best men.
So, Kharlov moved as though he knew for a fact a man was watching and waiting nearby. Someone just as good as him.
There! The distinctive sound of metal on metal. Just the faintest "clink" but impossible to mistake for anything else. Probably something like a canteen or thermos brushing up against the lookout's weapon.
Well, Kharlov was a bit thirsty too. But he'd paid attention to one of the first lessons of his Spetsnaz training about eating and drinking in an unsecured area.
Be sure you enjoy your last meal.
Kharlov crept towards the position revealed by the noise. Made even more cautious by the realization the sound might have been made deliberately to lure him forward.
Not this time.
Guessing the lookout would be facing the river, Kharlov had taken the extra time to circle around him. His hunch had paid off, and Kharlov found himself looking at the back of the lookout's head.
Alina had given Kharlov one of the new Udav pistols, firing the equally new 9x22mm cartridge. Though more powerful than the Makarov it replaced, this was not the reason for Alina's choice. She had explained the Udav's reliability was superior and had tested as more likely to survive exposure to water, sand, and even mud.
In short, just the weapon to take for a swim in the Rio Grande. Kharlov was no fool, though, and had used the plastic pouch Alina had given him to store the Udav in his jacket.
Kharlov never even considered taking out the Udav. Firing it here would be like sending up a signal flare.
Instead, Kharlov calculated the distance between him and the lookout. The vegetation between them. The lookout's crouching posture and the time he would need to turn around to face Kharlov's attack.
Much of the difference between Spetsnaz training, or special forces training in any nation's military, and regular military training was the degree of repetition. You didn't just learn to do something. You did it so many times it became as natural as breathing.
Or, Kharlov thought as his arm tightened around the lookout's neck, making sure the enemy stopped breathing.
His attack had been entirely successful. Unfortunately for Kharlov, his luck that night was abysmal.
Kharlov's focus had, by necessity, been total during the few minutes required to plan and execute his attack.
Those few minutes, though, had been the same ones used by the lookout's companions to return to check on him.
Kharlov allowed the lookout's lifeless body to slip from his grasp and stood up. At the same moment, blinding lights switched on him, and a voice yelled a Spanish command.
Kharlov guessed correctly that it meant, "Hands up!"
His first thought was – Lights, twice in two days?
Several options went through Kharlov's mind in an instant.
Run. Fight. Surrender.
His least preferred choice was the only one that seemed to offer any hope of survival.
Slowly, Kharlov raised his hands.
"I work for…" were the only words Kharlov had time to say before a sharp pain in the back of his head was replaced by a long fall into blackness.
Chapter Thirty-One
Qinshan Nuclear Power Plant
One Hundred Kilometers South of Shanghai, China
Qinshan Senior Manager Tan shivered in the whipping wind and rain as he watched while some men from the nearby prison filled sandbags. Other prisoners moved the just-filled sandbags where Tan thought they would do the most good.
The forecasters had been right. The danger from the typhoon had turned out to be just as real as they’d warned. Another “once in a century storm,” like the one that had damaged the Three Gorges Dam in 2020.
The prisoners had nearly failed to appear. The warden had tried to back out of his promise, saying that the weather was too dangerous for him to risk his guards.
It went without saying that the prisoners were expendable.
The warden still wouldn’t budge when Tan reminded him of the danger that a reactor breach would pose to everyone at the prison, including him personally.
But he changed his mind when Tan gave him a graphic description of what would happen once radioactive materials reached the prison. Yes, radiation sickness was truly not a pretty way to die.
Tan had not enjoyed the conversation. But he told himself that he wasn’t making threats.
He was simply telling the truth.
Plant Complex Director Wu appeared beside him, just as he’d promised.
The last time Tan had been surprised to see Wu because he’d asked his staff to warn him of Wu’s arrival. Today Tan knew they were too busy preparing to shut down the plant.
But he was still surprised to see Wu. This time because Tan had been told after he’d last spoken to Wu that the only road to the plant had been closed because of the typhoon.
“I’m pleased to see you, sir. Has the road to the plant reopened?” Tan asked.
Wu grunted with amusement. “No. But anyone they might have had manning the roadblock has gone, probably to a drier location. I just drove around it.”
Tan nodded. “Good that you have a four-wheel drive vehicle, sir. Were you able to get authorization to close the plant from Beijing?”
Wu shook his head. “No. Everyone I could reach insisted the plant must remain open. Said that the power we produce was vital to typhoon relief and rescue operations. I was promised help to keep the plant safe from the typhoon.”
Tan looked at Wu with dismay. “Help? What sort of help could they possibly get us in time? As it is I’m not sure these sandbags will give us enough time to shut down the plant safely.”
Wu shrugged. “I’m just telling you what they told me. I’m not saying I believed them.”
Now Tan moved from dismay to shock. “Sir, you know as well as I do what will happen if we allow this plant to be inundated. We are much closer to a major population center than Fukushima was, and…”
Wu lifted his hand. “I know all that, Tan. Sorry, I should have told you at the start that I have no intention of obeying Beijing’s orders. We will shut down this plant immediately.”
Tan felt two conflicting emotions. A wave of relief.
And a surge of nausea.
“Sir, if we defy Beijing’s orders…” Tan began.
“We will be executed,” Wu finished for him with a nod.
Then he added, “I will try to argue that you were simply following my orders, and had no idea Beijing had ordered the plant must remain open. But even if I am believed, you will be executed as the plant’s senior manager, who must be held responsible in all cases. They’ll probably also argue you should have confirmed my orders with Beijing.”
Tan stood silently in the rain, watching as the last sandbags were filled.
Then he turned to Wu and sai
d, “If that’s what it takes, so be it. Do you have the codes needed for the shutdown?”
Wu nodded. “The men who designed the shutdown procedure had enough sense to realize communications could be cut in an emergency. As you know, your authorization codes will be required as well.”
Tan pointed out where he wanted the last sandbags to be placed. Eager to escape the wind and rain, the prisoners hurried to finish their task.
Then Tan turned to Wu, and gestured to the water rising on all sides around them.
“We’ve done all we can here. I think we’ve bought ourselves enough time to do a proper shutdown, but we have to hurry.”
Wu nodded, and followed Tan towards the plant as the typhoon did its best to slow them.
Wu looked at the rising water as they reached the plant’s door. He doubted they had time to finish shutting down the plant before the water came bursting through.
But there was no point telling Tan that. All they could do was their best, and hope.
Even if, no matter what, there was no hope for Wu and Tan.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Near Nuevo Laredo, Mexico
Boris Kharlov’s eyes opened just enough to let him see his surroundings. He hoped whoever was guarding him wouldn’t realize he had regained consciousness.
Time to take stock. Head throbbing, but not too bad. Maybe a concussion. Probably not a skull fracture, or the pain would be sharper.
Sitting in a wooden chair, with his hands cuffed behind him. Metal cuffs, not zip ties.
And he was still wearing his clothes. With his pistol and both knives removed, of course.
But leaving him with his clothes on was an amateur move on their part. One they would soon regret.
Without moving his head, Kharlov could see only a single guard. He was standing next to a grimy window, which showed it was still dark outside.
So, Kharlov thought, he hadn’t been unconscious long.
The floors were no cleaner than the windows. Kharlov doubted that anyone had lived here in some time.
The guard’s attention was focused on the view outside the window, though he did glance at Kharlov now and then. So far, he seemed to think Kharlov was still unconscious.