Matthew Dunn - Sentinel

As soon as the SOG operative was in his seat, he removed his crude disguise and looked at Will. “There were four sailors at reception. Behind them was a security gate with another two armed guards.” He smiled. “But it’s clear that the HQ is not deemed a target for hostiles. The average age of the sailors had to be about twenty-two.”

“They took the letter?”

Roger nodded. “One of them got straight onto a landline after looking at the name on the envelope. I just turned and walked out.”

“Excellent.” Will looked at the cell phone on the dashboard. “Laith, are you hearing this?”

Laith responded in his deep drawl, “Sure am. I’ll stay put to watch the front. But you’d better move to the rear parking lot right now. The target could be close.”

Roger turned on the ignition, put the gears into drive, jammed his cell phone into a car phone holder, and slowly moved the vehicle forward. Within a minute they were at the back of the Pacific Fleet HQ, close to the parking lot. The place was nearly empty of vehicles, and those that were there were covered by thick snow. Roger muttered, “We’re in position. If the target’s arriving by car, we’ll see it.”

Laith said, “It’s a damn shame none of us knows the layout of this city.”

Roger smiled. “We’ll improvise.” His smile faded as he looked at Will. “Staying on the target’s tail is the least of our problems. It’s what happens after that I’m worried about.”

Will looked out of the windshield, staring through the heavy snowfall. “Since when do you worry about anything?”

Roger huffed. “I’m married with three young kids. There’s a lot I worry about, including my wife getting a knock on the door from a government man who’s there to tell her that her husband died doing something insane.” He shared Will’s view of the outside downpour. “Not that you’d know anything about domestic responsibilities. You’ve no such worries.”

Will shook his head. “Thanks a lot.”

Roger laughed. “If you ever do meet a woman, put her in touch with me before things get serious. There’s a lot of stuff I need to tell her about you. Just so she’s forewarned.”

Before Will could answer, Laith spoke. “I’ve got a solitary person on foot, approaching the front entrance to the HQ.”

Roger instantly said, “Heard.”

There was silence for a moment before Laith said, “The pedestrian’s not slowing, is walking right up to the entrance, walks into the entrance…” The sound of Laith’s car engine was clear. “I’ve just moved a few feet. I can see the person by the reception. The guards are moving. One of them hands something to the person. Can’t see what it is yet. The person turns, removes gloves, lifts up something. Hold.” Laith was obviously adjusting position again. “It’s the envelope. Repeat, the person has the envelope.”

“Description of the pedestrian?” Will’s voice was urgent.

“Head to toe in civilian winter attire. But judging by the posture of the sailors, this person has rank and is deemed important. Three of the sailors are standing at attention.”

Will looked quickly at Roger. “It has to be the target.”

Laith continued his commentary. “The person withdraws the letter, holds it in midair, then replaces it into the envelope. It looks like the pedestrian is talking to the guards.” Laith said nothing for a moment. “Stand by.” Again silence. “The target is on the move, is leaving the building, is heading east on foot.”

Roger said loudly, “Any sign of a vehicle?”

“Not yet.”

Will nodded. “Then we have to assume the target lives close to the HQ and traveled there on foot. I’m going onto the streets. Listen to my instructions, and be ready for my order to make the snatch.” Will jumped out of the car, withdrew a Bluetooth device, which he fixed into his ear, and dialed in his cell phone so that he was on a conference call with Laith and Roger. Instead of walking directly toward the location of the target, Will moved to the far side of the parking lot and spoke as he did so. “Okay, I’ve got the central ground covered.”

Roger drove his car away. “I’m moving north and will hold still after five hundred feet.”

Laith spoke. “I’ve just passed the target and will set my position three hundred yards to the east. Roger, watch the eastern road adjacent to the HQ. If the target crosses it and heads toward my location, I’ll need to move before I give the target a double sighting of me.”

“Understood.”

Will wrapped his arms around his chest; his breath steamed in the icy air. He was alone; no other pedestrians or mobile cars were in the vicinity. Ignoring the snowfall and wind, he focused solely on his earpiece.

Roger’s voice was loud and rapid. “The target moves across the road, heading east.”

“Shit!” Laith gunned his BMW. “I’m moving farther east. Will, move your ass and pick up the tail on foot.”

Will sprinted across the parking lot, his feet crunching deep into the snow. Turning by the northeast corner of the Pacific HQ, he ran fast along the road leading to the port before slowing to a walk. He was right by the quayside. Tall warships were berthed adjacent to the route he needed to take. Looking around, he squinted through the snowfall before spotting the target walking along the quayside. “I’m by the port, have sight of the target, and am taking over command.”

Both CIA operatives replied, “Understood.”

The target was walking quickly. Will matched the pace, maintaining a constant distance of three hundred feet. Strong winds blew snow diagonally through the air from the port and through the gaps of the Udalay I destroyers, a Slava — class cruiser, and one Sovremenny — class destroyer. The target slowed, turned to face the deserted road, looked left and right, and walked across the route.

“Target breaking left and heading north.” Will kept his voice at medium volume, even though he knew his prey had no chance of hearing him given the distance between them and the noise of the weather. “I’ve almost certainly been spotted, although there’re no signs the target is suspicious. Roger, stay north but move five hundred feet east. Laith, move three hundred feet north.”

“Will do.”

“On my way.”

Will followed the target north into a narrow side street. As he walked he could feel his handgun, secreted under his overcoat and suit, rub against the base of his spine. The route was straddled by terraced buildings and had only a few dim streetlamps to illuminate the place. He looked at the buildings. All of them were clearly business-related and had no interior lights turned on. He looked at the target.

“Target moving east!” Will silently cursed the fact that he had taken his eyes off his prey. “Now out of my sight. Laith, move two hundred feet further north. Roger, I estimate you’ll need to move about a hundred and fifty feet east.”

Will ran quickly up the empty street, the icy air causing pain in his lungs with each inhalation. Reaching the crossroads where the target had moved right, he slowed to a walk, stopped, and glanced down the route where his quarry had gone. He saw the pedestrian a hundred feet away, continuing to walk. “I’m in a residential street. The target’s home could be here.”

“Your instructions?” Roger’s voice sounded strained over the sound of his vehicle’s engine.

Will momentarily stopped, looked at the target, looked again at the street, which this time was straddled by continuous homes, some of which had lights on, then made his decision. “You both should be a maximum of three hundred feet away from my location. Roger, head south and look west for the road I’m on. Laith, head directly west. You may even be on the far end of the same street.” He stayed still, counting in his head. After a count of five, he shouted, “Takedown, now!”