Brad Thor - The Athena Project

There was another flash of recognition on the Russian’s face.

“I take it you know this man?” asked Casey.

Luka nodded.

“The CIA also intercepted an earlier call from Armen Abressian to Sanders, during which he authorized the murder of your uncle.”

She could see the Russian’s anger building.

“I would like to hear this phone call,” he said.

Casey shook her head. “I’m sorry. The call has been classified by my government.”

“Why?”

“We’re pursuing Abressian on another matter that I’m not free to discuss.” As she let that sink in, she said, “Our Treasury Department is also now tracing a large sum of money we believe Abressian moved in order to pay your uncle’s killers.”

Luka Mikhailov remained silent.

“We also believe the AK47s and the RPG used in the attack were provided by a known arms dealer connected to Abressian, named Nino Bianchi.”

Casey felt no remorse in lying to the man. He was a scumbag underworld figure who had probably brought more misery to more people than she would ever know. If he could be manipulated into doing something useful, then so be it. With the water sufficiently chummed, she then sat back, kept her mouth shut, and watched to see if he’d bite.

Another man, who appeared to be a consigliere of sorts, bent over and whispered in Mikhailov’s ear.

Luka listened and, after several moments of reflection, looked at Casey and said, “Tell me what you would like us to do.”

Rob Hutton had made sure the women had all the equipment they needed. He had also chosen quite an interesting delivery method. All they had needed to pick it up was a boat, which Luka Mikhailov had been more than happy to provide.

They piloted the vessel several miles out into the sea, where Casey used a flashlight to signal the aircraft Hutton had sent in. The gear was then thrown out the plane’s door and dropped into the water a quarter of a mile away. The women fished the big, floating bag out of the sea and headed back to port.

Back in the hotel room, they sorted through the equipment and went over the details of the operation one final time.

According to the satellite imagery, the compound consisted of nine buildings. Neither Luka nor any of his men had ever been inside, so they couldn’t provide any additional insight. The team would have to move fast.

Hutton had made their rules of engagement perfectly clear. Any and all persons encountered at the compound were to be considered hostile and the team was authorized to deal with them accordingly.

Their objective was also made perfectly clear. If the Kammler Device was anywhere in the compound, the United States wanted it. They also wanted any documentation, research, data, or personnel associated with it. If possible, they were to take the men known as Thomas Sanders and Armen Abressian alive. Finally, they were to secure the EMP bombs.

It was a tall order, not the kind of clear-cut, get-in-and-get-out assignments they liked to be given, but Athena was part of Delta, and this was the type of mission Delta was often given. If it was easy, the saying went, there’d be no need to give it to Delta.

Standing by, the team had two F-16 fighters from Aviano Air Base aloft over the Adriatic to lend support. As a last resort, Casey and Company were authorized to call in airstrikes to level the entire compound. Only the United States would be allowed to leave with the Kammler technology. Should the F-16s have to violate Croatian airspace and engage targets on Croatian soil, the Defense Department would figure out a way to pick up the diplomatic pieces later.

At 3:00 A.M., the Athena Team left their hotel and drove toward the tip of the Istrian peninsula.

In a copse of trees, just south of the compound, they hid the car and unpacked their gear.

It was a clear night with a bright moon. The women used camouflage paint sticks, or combat Maybelline, as they liked to call it, to mute their faces.

When they were all suited up and had checked their radios and weapons, Casey gave the command for them to move out.

The team crept silently through the darkness and approached the compound from the southwest. It was perched on a high hill and they had picked the most difficult spot for their breach. The southern edge of the former monastery sat on a craggy, almost sheer rock face sixty feet high.

Because this side of the compound was so inaccessible, Hutton and the team back at Bragg believed that it would have the fewest security resources devoted to it. Because of its dramatic view, it was also where the monastery’s church had been built. From the huge generators arrayed outside to the amount of activity they saw coming and going, it appeared to be the nexus of everything that was happening at the compound.

Cooper was the best climber on the team, so she was in charge of picking out the course they’d take up to the top. After identifying the easiest and fastest routes, she immediately discounted them. Had she been in charge of security for the compound, that’s exactly where she would have planted intrusion sensors, or worse, antipersonnel devices.

Selecting her first handhold, she grasped a small outcropping of rock, dug her boot into a narrow fissure, and led her team toward their objective.

The women moved like demons in some medieval nightmare scaling a castle wall. Hand over hand they climbed, never slipping, never slowing down. While things often went bad in operations, sometimes they went well, and this was one of those times. It was as if they had climbed this piece of rock a thousand times before.

Though none of them was foolish enough to jinx the operation by saying so, they all felt that it was a good indicator of how their assignment was going to go. That was until they had almost reached the top and they heard the explosion.

Luka Mikhailov and his men had jumped the gun.

DENVER

Dean Pence put his hand on his partner’s shoulder. “Okay,” he said. “Are you ready for this?”

Ben nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“I’ll see you up there, then.”

Ben looked down at the map Vicki had drawn for him. He’d only been to Arapaho National Forrest a handful of times and definitely never to the area where she was leading him.

Shouldering his pack, he began walking. The fact that he wasn’t looking forward to what was about to happen probably had a lot to do with his slower-than-normal pace.

He’d made the biggest mistake of his career, but now he was going to try to make it right. Once the arrest happened, he knew that what he had done might be used as a way to embarrass the FBI, but those chips would have to fall wherever they fell. He had an opportunity to do the right thing, the professional thing, and that was what he was going to do.

Focusing on the trail, Matthews kept climbing. He had resolved to get his act together once this case was over. Despite his mistakes, he saw himself as a decent person who deserved a shot at happiness in life. He just needed to find the right woman.

The idea of finding the right woman, though, made him think of Vicki Suffolk, and he forced the image from his head. Picturing her naked was not a good idea, not with what he was about to do.

He covered the rest of the distance by focusing on his graduation ceremony and how proud his parents had been when he had joined the FBI. When he saw the dilapidated cabin up ahead through the trees, he stepped off the trail, took a breath, and got himself ready.