Matthew Dunn - Sentinel

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.