Matthew Dunn - Sentinel

Standing, he looked at the bed before walking to the window. It was dark outside; he could see nothing. But he stayed there anyway, just looking.

He thought about Korina. She had taken so many risks for him, yet he had rejected her. That decision now seemed wholly wrong, because he knew that they were attracted to each other.

And they both knew that tomorrow they could be dead.

He turned away from the window, walked across the room, opened the door, and stood still. On the opposite side of the corridor was another bedroom, its door shut. Korina was inside. He stared at the door for nearly two minutes before making a decision.

It was the right decision.

He walked across the corridor and knocked on her door.

She was now before him, dressed in her bathrobe.

The slightest smile on her face.

A tiny nod of her head.

A minute step toward him.

Will moved to her, held her for a moment, lifted her body so that she was cradled in his arms, kissed her passionately on her lips, and carefully carried her back into her bedroom.

It was six A.M. Sentinel’s mind was now almost certainly broken. In two days the Ohio submarines would reach Russian waters.

Will was dressed, pouring coffee in the kitchen. As he brought the steaming mug to his mouth, he could smell Korina’s perfume on his hand.

When she came in, she was wearing a jacket, pants, and hiking boots; her hair was pinned up, and she had applied makeup. Wrapping one arm around his waist, she kissed him on the nape of his neck, grabbed a spare mug of coffee, and moved to the far side of the room. She turned on a small television, flicking through channels until she found a news program. Will looked at the screen and saw the Russian president giving a press conference. His tone was solemn. At the bottom of the screen, his words were shown in English, French, and Chinese subtitles. As Will read the English transcript his stomach wrenched.

Diplomatic relations with the United States of America have broken down. We are working hard to reverse this situation, and we pray that America is doing the same. It is certain that Russia has done nothing to create this political catastrophe. Whatever happens, I promise all Russians that I will continue to serve you with unwavering loyalty. God bless and protect the motherland.

Korina turned the television off. She raised her mug of coffee to her lips. Her hand shook. “Whatever happens, I can’t stay in Russia. Do you think MI6 would give me a home in the U.K.?”

Will nodded. “Of course. They won’t leave you to suffer imprisonment or-”

“Or execution.” Korina frowned. “I’ve never been to England. I wouldn’t know where to live.”

Will kept his eyes on her. “London’s as good a place as any.” He smiled. “I have an apartment overlooking the river Thames. You could stay there.”

Korina moved closer to him and held his hands. “That’s a generous offer.”

“My home’s in need of a feminine touch. It would help me out if you stayed there.”

Korina smiled but shook her head. “A feminine touch?”

Will laughed as a mental picture of Roger watching him right now entered his mind. He tried to think of something normal to say. “I’m away a lot. The place rarely gets used.”

Korina moved closer to him, smoothed a hand against his face, then unclasped her necklace. She held the chain and locket before him, a smile on her face. “You can open the locket when we’re in your apartment.”

Will took the necklace, nodded, and secreted it in an inner pocket.

She grabbed her coffee and stared at her cell phone on the kitchen table. “I’ve destroyed my regular phone because I know that GRU will be trying to track its signal. But this phone was given to me by Sentinel. Only he has the number.” She looked around. “My dad and I shared years around this table. What would he think of me now?”

Will briefly wondered how to respond. He decided to tell her what he really thought. “He’d be proud of you.”

Korina looked at him. “Yes, I’m sure that’s what he’d be thinking right now.” She smiled, though her expression was haunted. “His little girl…”

They were quiet for a while. Outside, snow was falling thick and fast, and garden trees swayed in a strong wind, but the noise of the weather did not penetrate the kitchen. The whole room was silent.

Then it was not.

An electronic beeping noise reverberated around the kitchen. A small flashing light accompanied the sound.

Korina’s phone was ringing.

W ill held his cell phone and stared at it for a moment. So much rested on the call he was about to make. And so much rested on the man answering. Doubts raced through his mind. Perhaps the man was right now on a flight, in a meeting, sleeping, vacationing, or doing anything else that meant he couldn’t answer.

His finger shook as he began pressing numbers.

When the last digit was depressed he raised the cell to his ear.

One ring.

Three rings.

Will’s heart pounded.

Six rings.

Seven rings.

Click.

The man answered.

Will drove the Toyota Prado northeast toward the town of Shatura. Korina was next to him, checking the workings of her handgun. The SUV had belonged to her father, was in immaculate condition, and carried additional gas in the spare fuel tank and canisters. Next to the sat nav on the dashboard was a worn photo of Korina and her father; they were wearing skis and winter sports clothing, standing on a snow-covered slope with smiles on their faces. Jammed between the door and Will’s seat was the sound-suppressed AS Val assault rifle.

Their destination was beyond Shatura. Sentinel had given Korina exact directions to the isolated farmstead that was ninety miles away.

The snow was heavy and strong winds were whipping it up, making visibility atrocious. Though there was daylight, Will had his car’s headlights on high. The road was deserted and straddled by forest and rolling countryside. They drove for one hour, barely speaking to each other, not deviating from the route, the features around them remaining the same.

Will’s eyes ached from concentrating on the road and from the disorienting effect of the dots of snow continually rushing toward his vehicle. After rubbing his face, he glanced at the sat nav and saw that they were approximately sixty miles away from Shatura.

“Something ahead.”

Will immediately looked up on hearing Korina’s words. Driving slowly, he reached the end of the forest and saw that snow-covered fields were now to either side of them. He could not see much beyond three hundred feet into the fields, but he could see enough to make his stomach churn. There were at least fifty of them, probably more were hidden by the snowfall, and all were facing the sky. They were RT-2UTTKh intercontinental missiles, fixed onto MZKT-79221 sixteen-wheel transporter-erector-launchers. Soldiers moved back and forth among the weapons; none of them took any notice of Will’s vehicle as he continued driving steadily onward. They all seemed too busy preparing the deadly projectiles.

Will knew that the missiles had a precision-guided effective range of more than six thousand miles and that each carried a 550-kiloton nuclear warhead. They could easily reach and destroy armies in Europe, and if needed they could be sent across all of Russia to strike seaborne landings in the east. Once launched, they were nearly indestructible, being immune to any missile defense system and shielded against electromagnetic pulses, lasers, and even nuclear blasts up to a quarter mile away.

As he passed the last of them, he was sure that in a day’s time the missile unit would move to another location and would keep changing location over the following days and weeks so that it could not be compromised. But a small number of people in the Russian military high command would have information about the missiles’ exact movements. Will wondered if one of those men or women was a tier-1 agent belonging to Sentinel.