South Bend, Indiana
Pavel’s offensive was over almost as soon as it started. Two muffled shots and then silence. Dmitri moved to the stairwell and found the door held ajar by the body of his dead brother. He quickly shut down the rage he felt, knowing he still had a mission to complete. There would be time to mourn, and to seek revenge.
‘Pavel’s dead,’ Dmitri said quietly as he went back into the lab. ‘Yuri, time?’
‘Three minutes, forty-five seconds,’ the explosives expert replied.
Lying atop the lab bench, Sandstrom groaned and tried to lift his head. Kelsey began to stir as well. It took several minutes to recover fully from a Taser’s shock, more time than anyone remaining in the lab possessed. Paramo lay motionless on the vinyl-tile floor, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
‘Put the woman on the cart,’ Leskov ordered, his mind sifting through his options. ‘We may need a hostage.’
Yuri and Josef grabbed Kelsey by the legs and shoulders, quickly loaded her onto the four-wheeled cart. Leskov turned the pistol in his hand and struck Sandstrom in the side of the head; the groggy physicist fell to the floor, unconscious. He would be left for dead.
‘Three minutes, Dmitri,’ Yuri called out.
Inside the lab sink, the skin of the first bag ruptured and its contents slowly leaked to form a thick layer along the basin.
‘I’ll take the point,’ Leskov announced. ‘Yuri, take the cart.’
‘And I’ll cover our backsides,’ Josef said, a mouthful of bad teeth smiling beneath his thick black mustache.
With Kelsey as hostage, the Russians carefully moved into the corridor, wary of who or what might be lying in wait. Leskov held up his hand when he reached the stair-well door, halting his men. He then pointed at Yuri and, with two fingers, motioned for his comrade to join him by the door.
‘When I open the door, pull Pavel’s body in.’
Yuri nodded. This was not a matter of sentimentality on his leader’s part; it was simply the law in the world of special warfare that, dead or alive, no man is ever left behind.
Leskov braced himself against the wall on the hinge side and pushed the door open with a backward sweep of his hand. Crouching, Yuri reached forward and grasped Pavel’s leg. He took two steps back, dragging the young soldier’s lifeless body through the doorway as a slick red stain spread from the open wound in the side of Pavel’s head.
Leskov stepped through the doorway and found the stairwell deserted. ‘It’s clear.’
‘Dmitri, do you see his pistol?’ Yuri asked, looking down at Pavel’s empty hands.
‘Nyet, his attacker must have taken it. Put Pavel on the cart. We have to get out of here.’
South Bend, Indiana
After the shoot-out in the stairwell, Kilkenny fell back to regroup. The loading dock was empty when he reached it, save for the body of the man he’d killed earlier.
A bell sounded nearby, indicating that the service elevator had descended to the main floor. Kilkenny searched for a place to position himself.
High ground, he thought when he looked up at the roof of the semi’s trailer.
Kilkenny latched one of the rear doors closed, clambered up the thick steel hinges, and pulled himself onto the corrugated roof. Peering just over the edge, he saw the lead man emerge from the doorway. The man swept left to right, weapon held before him, seeking targets. He then checked behind the truck. Satisfied the dock was clear, he motioned for the others to move forward.
A cart rolled through the doorway, guided from behind by one of the Russians. The last man emerged a moment later. Glancing down at the cart, Kilkenny saw the body of the man he had shot in the stairwell and, beneath the body, Kelsey. His heart sank, then Kelsey’s arm twitched and her fist clenched.
‘Josef, get the truck started,’ Leskov commanded, anxious for this mission’s end. ‘Yuri and I will finish loading.’
Leskov and Yuri holstered their weapons and carried the two remaining boxes into the truck. The starter ground for a moment, then the diesel engine roared to life, belching gritty exhaust into the air. With the greatest respect, Leskov wrapped his brother’s body in one of the quilted moving blankets and gently laid it inside the trailer. Yuri repeated the gesture with Vanya, the other casualty of the day.
‘Dmitri, what do we do with the woman?’ Yuri asked.
‘Kill her. Put her body in the back with Pavel and Vanya. We’ll get rid of it later.’
Kilkenny listened as the lead man issued orders in Russian. Then the diesel engine growled, and a thick black cloud of exhaust wafted over him. As the truck idled, the trailer’s roof vibrated beneath him.
Below, he saw Yuri reaching for his holstered pistol. Kilkenny swung his arms over the edge of the trailer and grasped his weapon with both hands. Aiming down at Yuri, Kilkenny fired two rounds from the elongated Glock that instantaneously penetrated the man’s skull. Yuri’s head snapped sideways and he collapsed where he stood, his pistol clattering on the concrete dock.
Instinctively, Leskov leapt off the dock, seeking cover. Two more rounds chased after him, chiseling holes in the concrete where he had stood. He had gotten only a brief look at the shooter, but he recognized him immediately. With three of his men dead, Leskov knew that Nolan Kilkenny was more than had been reported to him.
Leskov grabbed the short ladder on the passenger side of the semi and pulled himself up to the window.
‘Josef, Kilkenny is on top of the trailer. He’s killed Yuri. Cover your side of the truck and meet me at the dock.’
Josef nodded, pulled out his pistol, and checked the mirrors – his side of the truck was clear.
Kilkenny slid over the edge and dropped down, almost landing atop the man he’d just shot. Crouching with the Glock extended at eye level, he scanned the dock for targets. It was clear.
Time to haul ass, Kilkenny thought as he chambered a round, then popped the half-spent clip out of the Glock and slipped in a full one.
Keeping his eyes fixed on the edges of the trailer, Kilkenny grasped the abandoned cart with his left hand and pushed. But one of the turning wheels was jammed in place, stubbornly refusing to rotate
