Matthew Dunn - Sentinel

Will’s anger vanished. “We need to meet the agent and put the fear of God into him to make him panic.” His heart beat fast. “After that meeting, I don’t think he’ll dare discuss his situation with his agent handler on the telephone in case the SVR is monitoring his calls. I think he’ll want to meet Taras. Hopefully, he’ll lead us straight to him.”

Korina’s eyes flickered. “I thought you’d say that.” She looked at Roger, Laith, then Will. “But that hope rests upon the ability of you and your men moving through my country as if you were GRU officials.” She nodded at Markov and Vitali. “That’s why I asked for these two men. Together with me, they will front the team and diminish the threat of scrutiny on the three of you. They’ll also help with equipment and transport.” She smiled, flicking her cigarette onto the floor and stubbing it out with the heel of her boot. “And they can handle themselves very well in a fight.”

“That’s all good, ma’am, but”-Laith was still pointing his handgun in the direction of the GRU personnel-“I don’t speak fluent Russian.”

“Then you’ll just have to keep your mouth shut.”

Will frowned. “The SVR will never let us meet him without clearance.”

“Correct. That’s why I called them and told them that I needed to have a formal meeting with the man.” She looked serious. “Technically, Taras’s intelligence falls within my jurisdiction, as it relates to a naval matter that is happening within seas that come under the scrutiny of GRU Vladivostok. That means I have every right to reevaluate the intelligence, up to and including challenging the source of the report.” She nodded once. “The SVR had no choice other than to grant me an audience with the American agent.”

Will nodded. “Okay. But we need to meet him tonight.”

“Tonight?” Korina looked shocked. “He’s an eight-hour flight away in Moscow.”

For the first time that day, Will smiled. “I’m sure that right now there are plenty of military flights traveling back and forth across Russia. I’m confident you can get us on one.”

W ill and Korina were alone. The rest of the team were in the next room, quietly talking to one another, the Russians trying to get the measure of the Americans and vice versa.

Will asked, “Can we work together?”

Korina studied him. “We’ll have to find out.” She lit a cigarette and pointed it toward him. “But I warn you, I’m no fool. If you try and trick me, I’ll make you and your men suffer.”

“I’ve no intention of tricking you. I came here because I need your help.” He frowned. “Is this a place they’d normally post someone with-”

“A pretty face like mine?”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Then what?”

“It’s just that you look like you’d be better suited to Moscow HQ.” Will wasn’t sure he knew what he was saying. Perhaps it was that Korina’s elegance seemed at odds with the harshness of this part of Russia.

Korina inhaled smoke. “I have no family now. I never knew my mother-she ran off with another man when I was a baby. And when I was old enough to look after myself, my father was often away at sea for long periods. I suppose it toughened me up a lot. I didn’t want a cozy desk job in Moscow. So I volunteered to come out here.”

Will understood. The tragedies in his early life had driven him to seek out his extreme existence. “I’m sorry about your father.”

Korina lowered her head. “They wouldn’t tell me at first how he was killed. No doubt they thought it would be too upsetting. But I pulled some strings and found out everything.” She looked up. “That bastard savaged him.”

Will hesitated before placing a hand on hers. “I know how you feel.”

Her expression steeled. “How?”

“My parents were killed.”

“An accident?”

“Murdered.”

She squeezed his hand, released her grip, and muttered, “So here we are, filling the void.” She nodded once. “Yes, I think you and I can work together.” Extinguishing her cigarette, she added, “There’s something else you should know. When I was in my office, I checked my telegrams. One of them was from GRU Moscow HQ and was marked URGENT. It was sent to me and every other GRU station chief based in Russia but outside Moscow. The telegram stated that we must store all intelligence files in our possession within burn boxes, ready to be incinerated if our offices are overrun by American forces.”

By midmorning they were in the SUV, traveling to the outskirts of Vladivostok through driving snowfall. Korina spoke quickly and sternly into her cell phone. “There are six of us, three from GRU plus three from a special division. We-” She went silent as she listened to the person at the other end of the phone. Then, “If you want to refuse us entry, call GRU HQ and explain to them why you wish to hinder a major intelligence operation.” She listened again, smiled, and snapped the cell shut. She glanced at Will. “There’s space for us on a transport aircraft. It won’t be the most comfortable ride, but it’s the next flight out of here and leaves in forty-five minutes.”

“Excellent. But how are my men and I going to get through perimeter security?”

Korina shrugged. “Everything will be fine, provided my identity is valid.”

From the front passenger seat, Markov looked over his shoulder at them all. “We’re minutes away. In addition to your own bags, in the back of the SUV are five Bergen rucksacks containing Spetsnaz battle kit, MR-445 Varjag pistols, tactical communications systems, cell phones, and spare ammunition. Strapped to the Bergens are AS Val assault rifles with sound suppressors. Vitali and I grabbed them from our base as soon as Major Tsvetaeva called us. I’ve no idea if the kit is going to be right for what you need, but we didn’t have time to be selective.”

Roger nodded. “I’m sure it will do just fine.”

Vitali called out, “Time to shut up. We’re approaching the base.”

He drove the SUV off the main road onto a wide lane. Signs with crosses told motorists that they were entering a military restricted zone. An armed soldier stood on one side of the lane, waving them onward; soon they passed another doing the same. At the end of the lane they were confronted by a large arch, within which were four soldiers and an electronic barrier. To either side of the entrance was a twelve-foot-high razor-wire fence.

Vitali stopped the vehicle, opened his window, and showed one of the soldiers his Spetsnaz GRU identity card. The soldier looked inside the SUV, examining every occupant. Korina leaned forward, showed her ID, and spoke rapidly to the guard. He returned the document to her, then fixed his attention on Will and his colleagues. He asked them who they were, at which point Markov opened his front passenger door, walked around the front of the SUV until he was right in front of the guard, and grabbed the soldier’s jacket in a bunched fist. Pulling the guard close to his scarred face, Markov muttered something inaudible. The smaller guard looked terrified. He appeared to speak urgently and called out to his colleagues, who immediately raised the barrier. Markov released his grip and shouted at the four soldiers, who all sprang to attention. He nodded slowly at them, his face still furious, then reentered the vehicle. Vitali gunned the SUV. They drove onto the air base.

Markov shook his head. “Fucking idiots. They’d received the order to let us through once they saw Major Tsvetaeva’s ID. But they took it upon themselves to make a more thorough check of our vehicle in order to try to impress their commanders that they had initiative and were doing an excellent job.” He smiled. “I changed their point of view.”