It was early evening as Will sat alone in his car, watching the stationary car ahead of him. Sentinel was in that vehicle. They were on Dvortsovaya Naberezhnaya, next to the wide Neva River, within the heart of Saint Petersburg. Close by was one of the city’s main shopping areas of Nevskiy Prospekt, and pedestrian shoppers surrounded the MI6 men. Sentinel had wanted it that way. He needed his agent to have cover.
Sentinel was waiting for one of the many pedestrians to move to his car and sit alongside the MI6 officer. It was hoped that person would be Shashka. But the person could just as easily be Razin.
Will adjusted his earpiece, scrutinizing everything around him. It was nighttime, but bright street and building lights illuminated the entire area. Small motorized boats and larger cargo vessels moved slowly along the river. On land, families, couples, and solitary men and women walked by his car. Some carried shopping bags. Others had their hands thrust deep into their pockets. All of them wore overcoats and hats to protect them from the freezing cold.
Will spoke into his throat mic as he looked at the back of Sentinel’s car. It was three hundred feet away. “Nothing yet.”
Sentinel’s voice was calm. “Okay. I bet he’s watching me right now.”
Will looked at the crowds of people. There were a number of men within their ranks who could be Shashka. That did not concern him. Shashka would reveal himself when he was ready to do so. What concerned Will was that he was certain that Razin was also close by, waiting to see Sentinel and his Russian agent sitting together in the car so that he could gun them down before they had the chance to escape.
He moved a hand over the pistol by his side, mentally picturing what could happen and how he would respond. If Razin walked up to the car and raised a gun toward it, Will knew he could swing his handgun up, shoot through the windshield, and put a bullet into the man’s head within half a second. But if Razin had a higher-powered gun, he could shoot Sentinel and Shashka from a distance while hidden in the crowds. The people would panic; Razin would disappear before Will could even get out of his car. He looked around, silently cursing. His eyes locked on one man. He was 150 feet away from Sentinel’s vehicle and appeared to be looking at it. The man was tall and dressed in a long overcoat and fur hat. His arms were folded.
“Possible sighting.” Will spoke quietly. “He’s on your four o’clock, out of your line of sight.”
Sentinel replied, “Understood.”
The man continued to stare at the vehicle. Will looked at him but also darted glances at others near Sentinel’s vehicle in case the man was not Shashka. The crowds around him were getting thicker. Will imagined that shops were now closing, evicting their occupants onto the streets. A car drove by him, and Will looked at the people inside it: a man, a woman, and a child. The car continued onward, passing the man who might be Shashka and then passing Sentinel’s vehicle. The man remained where he was but now started looking left and right. Then he started walking.
“He’s on the move. Heading toward you.”
“All right.” Sentinel’s voice remained calm.
“He’s crossing the road.” Will gripped his gun. “He’s moving behind your vehicle. He’s stopped. Now he’s moving again.” Will waited a few seconds. “You should see him in your wing mirrors.”
Sentinel said nothing for a moment. Then, “It’s him. Radio silence from here on out, as I don’t want to spook the guy.”
Shashka hadn’t been told that Will would be attending the meeting.
Will looked back toward the crowds on the other side of the road. They were starting to thin; many people had clearly decided it was time to get off the freezing streets and head home. Will moved his eyes from one person to the next, searching for a killer. He looked back at Sentinel’s car and saw Shashka open the door and lower himself into the vehicle. Will moved his gun up to the vehicle dashboard. If anything bad was going to happen, it would happen now. Shashka shut the door. Will turned on his vehicle’s ignition, looking back at the few remaining people who were near Sentinel’s car. None of them looked as though they were armed and ready to shoot a senior MI6 officer and a general of Russia’s Western Operational Strategic Command.
Sentinel’s car moved quickly forward. Will depressed his vehicle’s accelerator, causing his tires to skid over the ice before they gained traction and forced the car to lunge forward. Soon he was a hundred feet behind Sentinel, traveling northeast on Dvortsovaya Naberezhnaya. They passed more pedestrians, but Will made no effort to look at them. Now that he and Sentinel were mobile, any threat against them would almost certainly come from another vehicle. They turned south onto Liteyniy Prospekt, and then southwest onto Zagorodniy Prospekt. All around them were shops, residential buildings, and offices. Traffic was heavy. They were moving through the center of the city.
Will kept very close to Sentinel’s car so that no other vehicle could move into the space between them. Snow began to fall, and he put the windshield wipers on. He scrutinized every vehicle close to him as well as the side roads to his left and right in case any vehicles were waiting there to speed out and ram Sentinel’s vehicle. They turned west onto the Naberezhnaya Obvodnogo Kanala and drove along the road, with the canal by their side. After ten minutes, they turned south again. Soon buildings became sparse. They were heading out of the city. Will’s observation of all around him intensified. He knew that a mobile assault on Sentinel’s car would be easier now that they were more exposed.
Sentinel drove faster, and Will kept up with him. They continued driving south for six miles before going west on the A121, with the Baltic Sea by their side. Fewer cars were on this road. They had left Saint Petersburg. Will kept looking in his mirror to check for signs that they were being followed but he saw nothing unusual.
They followed the A121 for 110 miles before Sentinel’s car began to slow down. Will adjusted his speed and watched his colleague’s vehicle drive off the road onto a small track. Turning off his headlights, he slowed until he was traveling at only ten miles per hour. Then he watched Sentinel’s vehicle’s taillights disappear up the track and followed them. The track was a mile long. Sentinel drove all the way along it before stopping by a house beside the Baltic Sea. It was another of his safe houses. All around them was darkness. There were no streetlights or other forms of illumination. Will stopped his car three hundred yards away from the house, briefly saw the interior lights of Sentinel’s car come on as its occupants exited the vehicle, and soon after saw lights within the residence. Sentinel and Shashka were in the building.
Disabling his interior light so that it would not come on when he opened the car door, he got out, raised his handgun, and pointed it back down the route he had driven. He waited for the sounds of a vehicle, a sight of its headlights, or the noise of a man moving rapidly on foot toward him. But he heard and saw nothing.
He got back into his car and drove slowly to minimize noise. Parking it to one side of the house, he got out again and looked around. Aside from the building next to him, everything remained in darkness. The sounds of the sea were right beside him, and he could smell the salty air coming from it. Tucking his handgun into his belt, he entered the house.
He locked the door behind him and walked along the hallway. He could hear Sentinel and Shashka talking in Russian. He saw them sitting in the lounge facing each other. But as soon as Will entered the room, Shashka jumped up, his face angry and shocked. Sentinel also stood, speaking rapidly and placing a hand on Shashka’s arm.
Shashka broke away from Sentinel’s grip, stepping toward Will. The Russian was in his fifties, was as tall as Will, had neatly cropped gray hair, was clean-shaven, and had removed his overcoat to reveal an immaculate three-piece suit. The anger in his green eyes was vivid. When he spoke, his voice was a deep growl. “I’m told that I must trust you. But I hate being taken for a fool.”
Sentinel moved up to him. “Sir, nobody has done that. My colleague’s here to make sure that you are safe.”
Shashka looked sharply at Sentinel. “We’ve never met with others present before. What’s so different about this meeting?”
Sentinel shrugged. “These are difficult times. I’m merely being cautious.”
Shashka shook his head, remaining angry.
Will held out his hand. “I’m sorry that I startled you.”
Shashka looked at Will’s outstretched hand. His anger remained, but his expression changed a little. He sighed and gripped Will’s hand with strength. “No more surprises. I’m too old for them.” He released his grip and moved to a corner liquor cabinet, extracted a bottle of vodka and three tumblers, and poured the spirit into the glasses. Handing them a drink each, he lifted his own glass. “To peace.”
“To peace,” the MI6 officers responded in unison.
Will took a tiny sip of the liquor, then placed his glass down on a side table. Sentinel and Shashka sat back down in their armchairs while Will moved around the room, pulling curtains over its windows. He shut the lounge door, grabbed a dining chair, and sat so that he was partially facing the entrance. Glancing at Shashka, he could see that the man was not looking in his direction. Discreetly, Will removed his handgun from his belt and gripped it by his side, hiding it from view.
Shashka took a big gulp of vodka and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Why was this meeting so urgent?”
Sentinel answered, “Taras Khmelnytsky. Head of Spetsnaz Alpha. Is there any way of locating him?”
Shashka frowned. “Why do you need to find him?”
“I can’t tell you anything, other than it’s vital I know where he is.”
“That’s not much incentive to help you.” The Russian general swirled the vodka in his glass. “He’s on a classified training exercise with elements of Alpha. For most of the time, even high command doesn’t know where he is because the exercise requires Colonel Khmelnytsky and his men to retain an element of surprise.”
Like placing a nuclear bomb in an army barracks without anyone knowing.
“Someone must know where he is.”
The general took out an elegant cigarette holder and cigarette. Attaching them to each other, he lit the cigarette with a gunmetal lighter, snapped the lighter shut, and blew a thin stream of smoke. “In case of emergency, he can be tracked. My colleagues choose not to know where he is because it benefits them not to know. But they’re not stupid. Khmelnytsky’s working with some very… valuable equipment. If anything happens to the colonel or his men, it’s vital the equipment be recovered and returned to a safe location.”
“There are beacons on the equipment?”
Shashka nodded. “Yes, and they’re visible. But the colonel and his men are unaware that their civilian vehicles have been secretly equipped with tracking devices.”
“Are they activated?”
“No. As long as the colonel provides his daily reports on time, the beacons are kept off to make the exercise as realistic as possible.”
Sweat began to trickle down Will’s back. He desperately wanted the meeting to end, because he knew that Razin could strike at any moment. But what Shashka was saying was adding a whole new range of possibilities to capturing the man.
Sentinel asked, “Can they be turned on?”
Shashka smiled. “Even I don’t have that authority. The only men who could authorize that are my boss Luchinski, Barkov, Nikitin, Fursenko, or the big man himself-Platonov.”
Lieutenant General Vladimirsky Luchinski, Lieutenant General Ilya Barkov, Lieutenant General Daniil Nikitin, and Lieutenant General Viktor Fursenko. Respectively, heads of the Western, Central, Southern, and Eastern Commands. Colonel General Platonov was their superior and answered only to the Russian president and prime minister.
“You could try to persuade Luchinski to activate the beacons. Maybe say they need to be tested.”
Shashka shook his head quickly. “I’m quite happy to feed you information. But if I make a request like that, it’ll be viewed as highly suspicious. The only reason I know about Alpha’s training exercise is because it falls under Western Command and sometimes I have to countersign some of Luchinski’s orders. But I’m not special forces. For me to attempt to interfere would seem odd, to say the least.”
Will stood, knowing that Sentinel would be feeling overwhelming disappointment and also knowing that the three of them were sitting ducks. He moved around the room carefully, so as not to let Shashka see his gun.
Shashka looked at him. “Why are you pacing? Is there something out there that I should be aware of?”
Will smiled. “Ignore me. I’m just here to make sure you’re safe.”
A bullet tore a hole in the lounge wall, traveled across the room, and removed a large part of Shashka’s head from his body.
Sentinel dived to the ground, shouting, “Fifty caliber with thermal!”
Razin.
With a precision weapon that could rip through buildings and kill on impact.
And a telescopic, heat-sensing sight that could detect any living creatures within the house.
Will lunged at the door, kicking it open. “Get to the back of the house!” He spun around, dropping low in the doorway. A second bullet struck the door frame, right where his head had been a second before. Sentinel was leopard-crawling fast across the floor, his handgun held in one fist. Will reached out, grabbed Sentinel’s other outstretched hand, and yanked him toward the doorway with all of his strength. A third bullet crashed into the skirting board.
Will pulled him to his feet, turned, and sprinted into the hallway and along it. “Move!”
He reached another closed door and threw his body sideways at it, causing it to come off its hinges and fall to the floor. Sentinel was right by him. Both men moved deeper into the room. It was the kitchen. They crouched down, breathing fast.
Sentinel gritted his teeth. “Bastard.”
Will looked quickly around. The four walls between them and Razin would make him blind to their position, so Razin would now be moving to get another line of sight.
Sentinel also looked around, his eyes now filled with hatred. “He’s not going to leave us alone.”
Will’s heart raced. “I know.” He looked at the back door. “We’ve got to close him down.”
They both knew the only way to do that was with speed and erratic movement. Even then, the chances of success were slim.
“Let’s go.”
They moved to either side of the door. Will opened it, nodded at Sentinel, and dived through the exit. Crashing to the outside ground, he rolled and dived for cover just as another shot rang out. The bullet struck the ground inches from him, but it had given him what he needed. “He’s on our two o’clock. One-fifty yards away.”
They ran again, heading toward the shooter, keeping low and sidestepping left and right to make them difficult targets. They reached a point thirty feet from the house. The gun fired again, and a bullet grazed Sentinel’s upper arm, causing him to stumble, but he regained his footing and ran even faster.
Gripping their handguns, the MI6 officers sprinted toward the place where they had last seen Razin’s muzzle flash. They ran along the track leading away from the house, the whole time Will scouring the rough ground to the right of it, where he thought Razin might still be. But all ahead of them was in darkness, and the faint moonlight enabled Will to see only a few feet in front of him.
Then he saw something move rapidly from a hedgerow onto the track. He raised his gun, but whatever he saw had now disappeared. Sentinel dashed to his right, jumped off the track, and disappeared into the darkness. Will knew that the officer had also seen the movement and was trying to flank whatever it was. Will ran faster but was now almost blind in the nighttime.
Sentinel shouted from behind Will, “I’ve found the rifle, but there’s no sign of him here.”
Will cursed, desperately looking left and right as he ran.
It all happened in an instant. The man appeared before Will, rushing at him with tremendous speed. Still running, Will raised his gun and shot, but the man twisted, dodging the bullet, and punched a fist into Will’s jaw with enough power to not only stop Will dead in his tracks but to also lift his body high in the air, hurtling backward. As Will thumped to the ground, his grip on his handgun involuntarily released and his weapon went flying away from the track into the darkness. His body was in agony from the force of the punch and from the impact on the ground. The man was over him. He looked to be in his late thirties, had a smooth face and jet-black straight hair, was tall, muscular, and clearly immensely powerful.
It was Razin.
Will slammed his foot into Razin’s ankle, used his other foot to kick his kneecap, and thrust his boot full force into his gut. Razin gasped and staggered back, giving Will just enough time to get to his feet. Stepping forward, Will jabbed his knee into Razin’s rib cage, causing the man to double over in pain. He swung a fist at his head, but Razin grabbed his speeding hand in midair, held it still with a viselike grip, and twisted his arm until he was holding Will in a lock. He moved closer to Will. Will instantly twisted his arm in the other direction, pulling Razin toward him, and head butted him in the face. Razin flew backward, holding his hands against his nose. Charging forward, Will dived at him, but Razin sidestepped and banged his elbow into Will’s back as he was still in midair. He hit the ground, rolled sideways to avoid Razin’s boot as it descended toward his head, jumped up, and took two steps away from the big Russian.
The men stared at each other, breathing fast, their faces screwed up in pain.
Then they moved forward.
Will lowered his upper body and swung his fist up toward Razin’s jaw.
Razin punched fast toward Will’s cheekbone.
Their fists impacted simultaneously.
The operatives fell away from each other.
They slowly got to their feet, their breathing now even more labored, and stared at each other. Neither man moved.
Razin gasped, “Who are you?”
Will answered through gritted teeth, “The man sent to stop you, Razin.”
Razin’s eyes narrowed. “If you know my code name, then you must be an MI6 officer.”
A shot rang out from Sentinel’s handgun; the bullet sliced across Razin’s cheekbone. The Russian special forces commander did not move, but anger was now on his face. “We’ll meet again.”
He turned and disappeared into the darkness a split second before another of Sentinel’s shots raced through the place where he’d been standing.
Will immediately gave chase, running fast but blindly across the rough ground, desperate to hear a noise from Razin. After three hundred feet he stopped, looked around, heard and saw nothing, and stamped his foot on the ground in frustration.
Razin had escaped.
He jogged back to the track. Sentinel was there, his handgun pointing right at Will.
“It’s me! Don’t shoot!”
Sentinel lowered his pistol as Will came into view. “What happened?”
What had happened was unprecedented. In his operational career, Will had engaged in unarmed combat with hundreds of very dangerous and skilled men. But Razin’s assault on him was like no other fight he had ever been in. For the first time in his life, Will had come up against a man who was physically his equal.
Will rubbed his hand over his face; the pain behind his eyes and running down his back was immense. “He got away. I couldn’t beat him.”
Sentinel looked around. “We’ve got to get out of Russia. But only for a few days. I need to come back to meet another agent.”
“What?”
“I’ve got to, and I’ve got to notify Moscow Station.”
Will couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Your plan failed!”
“Only because we were outgunned.” He shook his head. “Razin has to pay for what he did to Shashka.”
“Even if it means that another agent loses his life?”
“No.” Sentinel looked toward the house. “We need expert help. Do you think you can get a team?”
“What about your Eastern European or Russian assets?”
“They’re gifted amateurs, no match for Razin.”
Will was still incredulous. “I’m not going to let you put your life and another agent’s life at risk again.”
“You’ve got to, because we’ve just been given another opportunity to capture Razin. Shashka didn’t know this, but one of the men he mentioned-Lieutenant General Ilya Barkov, the head of Central Operational Strategic Command-is one of my other tier-one agents. He’s the only other general I have on my books, but he’s just become a very important one.”
“You’re going to ask him to activate the beacons so that we can locate Razin?”
“Yes.”
“Will he do it?”
“I don’t know; he’s a difficult man to handle. I need to lure Razin to the meeting in case Barkov says no.”
Will could see that Sentinel was exhausted. “You’re pushing yourself too hard.”
Sentinel muttered, “What other choice do I have?”
“You could trust me to do my job.”
Sentinel folded his arms. “Get me a team. Either we’ll take down Razin at the Barkov meeting, or we’ll get a grid reference for his location and make an assault on him.”