Matthew Dunn - Sentinel

Sentinel again cupped his hands against Will’s head. “It’ll soon be daylight. Follow me, move fast.”

A foot of snow already covered the ground, and more was quickly falling. They jumped to their feet and ran parallel to the guards. A further ten minutes and Sentinel stopped again, grabbing Will’s arm and pulling him down. Both men were breathing hard. Sentinel glanced in the direction that they had come from before looking at Will. “I’m sure they can’t see us now.”

Sentinel swiveled to face Russia and walked fast, with Will close behind. It was clear that he knew exactly where he was going and was choosing his route with precision. Occasionally he would stop, motion to Will to do the same, look around, and move a few paces to his right or left before continuing. After two miles, he slowed, then stopped. The land around them was now undulating and forested.

“Welcome to Russia.”

They moved toward an area of dense trees. Will was glad of their protection, though he continued to scrutinize his surroundings for hidden soldiers. A further twenty minutes and the trees thinned out. Will removed his night-vision equipment and looked around. The first signs of daylight were beginning to break into the forest, although it was still dark at ground level. He was about to move when he heard noises ahead of him. They were distant at first, but they quickly became recognizable.

“Dogs!” Sentinel looked around urgently.

The encroaching dogs meant that armed soldiers were close by. Will hoped that the dogs had not been unleashed, because they’d be spotted. But he knew that if he shot them, the border guards would be put on alert and their chances of getting back into the Ukraine much slimmer.

He saw them. There were two large German shepherds, and the first was fifty feet in front of the other. They were barking as they ran down a narrow route of open ground. They had clearly detected the MI6 officers. Will ran forward, crouched, and waited. The nearest dog was now 150 feet away.

Four seconds passed.

Suddenly the dog was just a few feet from him, jumping through the air with its mouth wide open.

Will dived at the airborne dog, wrapped an arm around its neck, squeezed tight while twisting his body against the dog’s, and crashed to the ground. The dog was limp beneath him, its neck snapped. But he was totally vulnerable as the second dog launched its powerful body at him.

Sentinel stepped forward and punched the dog full force on the side of the head. Walking up to where it lay dazed, he stamped a boot onto its throat and held it there until the writhing creature had stopped breathing.

Both began covering the dogs with snow until the animals were hidden. They crept ahead along the track, which soon forked. They stopped, listened, and waited before taking the track on the left. The track forked again; this time they moved right. There was movement ahead. Crouching down, they sidestepped into foliage. Two soldiers were on the path two hundred feet ahead of them, coming slowly toward their position. They carried flashlights that they held alongside their assault rifles. They had not yet seen the MI6 officers. Moving farther into the foliage, Will and Sentinel lay carefully on the ground. The soldiers were silent, but Will caught glimpses of them between the snow-covered leaves around him. He placed his finger over the trigger of his handgun as the men came to within thirty feet of his position. They kept moving until they were right by his side. Will held his breath, remaining motionless. The men moved past him. They were almost certainly the dog handlers and were no doubt searching for the “immigrants” their dogs had detected.

When they were out of sight, Will and Sentinel continued deeper into the forest until they reached a small road. Will looked right and saw nothing. He looked left and saw a truck. It was two hundred feet away, and beside it were three soldiers and two more dogs on leashes. All of the soldiers were smoking. The heads of the dogs were twitching left and right.

They walked away from the patrol, keeping the road on their left, until trees obstructed their view of the soldiers. Crossing the road, they entered more forest.

Sentinel grabbed Will’s arm. “They don’t patrol this far away from the border. But stay alert.”

They ran and walked for an hour, moving through forest and open fields, close to snow-covered vehicle tracks, over roads, through more woods and more open ground. Sentinel led the way, constantly changing direction, constantly looking around to check that they weren’t being watched, always choosing routes that gave them cover when it was available.

When they stopped, it was full daylight. More open farmland was around them.

Sentinel’s breathing was fast. “We’re close.”

Will followed his colleague, who now walked carefully ahead. They moved across more fields until they came to a six-bar gate. Beyond the gate was a vehicle track, and in the distance was a solitary farmhouse.

Sentinel moved to one side of the gate and knelt down. “That building’s the safe house. We’ve made up time and are on schedule. The meeting’s not due for another three hours.”

They stayed like that for thirty minutes. Will heard the sound of a vehicle. Moving his head slowly out of his secreted position, he glanced down the track. A pickup was moving along the route, coming toward them. It passed the house, kept driving, and stopped 500 feet away from the building and 150 feet from their position. Will darted a look at Sentinel and saw that he was looking intently at the vehicle. Will glanced back at the truck. A small woman got out. She was dressed in thick dark clothes and wore a head scarf that hid her features, but judging by her posture and movements she was very old. The woman leaned back into the truck and flashed its headlights six times.

Sentinel instantly jumped over the fence. Will followed. They ran along the track and slowed as they approached the vehicle. Sentinel’s gun was raised, but he was not pointing it at the woman; instead he was aiming it at the road beyond. The woman removed her scarf and walked toward Sentinel. She must have been at least seventy-five years old, maybe older.

She smiled and spoke in Russian. “My angel.”

Sentinel lowered his weapon, walked up to the woman, hugged her, and responded in her language, “Polina. I shouldn’t have asked you to come out in this weather.”

Polina shrugged. “I have to unlock the house and get it ready for you.” She rubbed her frail hands against Sentinel’s forearms. “I’ve bought some food for the freezer. Even though I don’t live there anymore, I keep it stocked for your meetings. Would you like me to make you some nice shchi? The hot soup will do you good.”

Sentinel smiled, shaking his head. “You need to be heading home in ten minutes.” He extracted the slim metal case and handed it to the woman. “Oleksandr’s mother made these for you. My Ukrainian friends send you their love.”

Polina took the case, smiling. Then her smile faded. “Please tell them that I’m sorry for their loss. Juriy was a great soldier.” She looked at Will. “Some of us here might live to old age, but in these parts few of us die from it.”

Will saw that the sleeve on one of her arms had risen up to expose an inch of badly scarred skin on the underside of her forearm.

Polina caught his gaze and quickly pulled her sleeve down.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay.” She glanced at Sentinel before looking back at Will. “I was nine years old when Majdanek extermination camp was liberated by Soviet soldiers. Some other survivors told me to run away or hide because I had a Nazi tattoo that showed I was a Jew. Instead, I sat in a hut and peeled off the skin with my fingernails until the tattoo was gone. When I finished, I thought everything would be all right.” She smiled, but the look was bitter. “I was a naive child. The Soviets knew that I’d tried to disguise my Jewish identity, and punished me by putting me in Kolyma gulag for fifteen years.” She looked at Sentinel and reached out to him.