John Ringo: Choosers of the Slain

Well, not entirely clear. There was a girl huddled in one corner, chained to the wall. She looked as if she’d been beaten rather hard recently. And a nick on her leg was probably from a bouncer.

“Just stay there and be quiet,” he said in Russian, gesturing her down. He leaned out again, carefully, given the amount of lead being thrown around, and checked the doorway at the end. Close enough. He pulled out a fragmentation grenade, pulled the pin and tossed it as hard as he could down the corridor.

Unfortunately, his aim was off and the grenade bounced off the edge of the doorway. He’d wondered why the instructors had been so insistent on accuracy and as he ducked back in the room he decided that now he knew.

“Fucker!” Yevgenii snapped as he jumped through the door. “You could have called grenade!”

“I figured you were hiding on the stairs,” Gregorii replied, grinning.

“Just shut up and hand me a frag,” Yevgenii said. “Grenade!”

“Grenades here, here and here,” Anton said, pointing at the map as the Hip helicopter lifted off the road and into the darkness. “Run tripwires across the road. We’ll drop trees from here to here. Then lay claymores as we retreat.”

“We don’t have any axes,” Gena pointed out.

“Who needs axes,” Anton scoffed, pulling a roll of det-cord out of his pack. “We’ve got demo!”

“Get them out of there,” Mike said, tapping two of the Keldara reserve and pointing to the downed Alloutte as he stepped off the Hip. “Clearing status?”

“Ground floor clear,” Adams said. “Two Keldara wounded, one dead. Clearing upper floors. Entry team has opened the basement, clearing at this time. Some resistance but they’re handling it. More casualties.”

“Oleg?” Mike said as he walked through the smoking entrance of the club.

“Reaction from all four directions,” the security team leader replied. “Uncoordinate. Maintaining position. We’re getting good reads from Vanner.”

“Sawn?”

“Third floor…” There was a burst of fire in the background, then an explosion and the Keldara team leader grunted. “Second and third floor clear. We’ve picked up a primary per Vanner. Secure and pulling out. IEDs laid to cover.”

“When you pull back, check with the basement team and see if they need any help,” Mike said. “If not, go reinforce Oleg.”

“Oleg! There are more coming down Dutris Street! We need help here!”

“How many?” Oleg asked, waving at the team with him and hurrying to the defense point on Dutro.

“At least twenty,” Dmitri answered. “And they are giving each other covering fire now. A car tried to get past us as well.”

Oleg turned the corner and hunkered down behind a stairway, peering over the top, then looking across the street at the defense team.

“We have them in a crossfire, now,” Oleg said as he spotted figures moving down the far side of the street. “Juris, see if you can get onto one of the upper floors and give us cover fire. Jitka, set up your SAW and get ready for fun…”

“Make enough of a mess?” Creata asked, stepping over the body in the threshod of the room and looking around. The basement office’s computers had been shredded by more than one grenade, but the safe on the far wall was impervious to fragments.

“More or less,” Yevgenii said, grinning. “A little Mouses’ nest, yes?”

“Genrich, Steppas,” Gregorii said. “Start pulling out EEI. Mouse, we don’t have much time.”

“Got it,” the girl said, hurrying over to the safe. “I’m going to be at least ten minutes,” she added as she began pulling tools out of her bag.

“Understood,” Gregorii said. “Safe room secure. Working on the safe…”

“Creata’s on the safe,” Adams said, pulling off his balaclava and looking around the club. “Ten minutes. I say we get a drink. If Padrek left us any whole bottles.”

“Who’s she?” Mike asked, gesturing with his chin to a hooker being held by one of the Keldara.

“Tanya,” Sawn answered. “She’s an intel source that Vanner asked us to pick up.”

“Vanner?” Mike asked, over the radio. “We giving rides to hookers, now?”

“You talking about Tanya, Kildar?” Vanner answered. “She’s good people and we owe her; she laid in a series of IEDs that really saved Padrek’s ass. Besides, Mikhail really likes her.”

“Fine, fine, like, what- everrrr ,” Mike said. “So we’re giving rides to hookers. What’s the status with Oleg?”

“Pretty bad,” Vanner admitted. “He’s got a fight on his hands on all fronts.”

“Sawn, this place secure?” Mike asked.

“Yes, sir,” the team leader answered.

“Get everybody out there supporting Oleg,” Mike said. “Keep a minimum security force back here.”

“Yes, Kildar,” Sawn said, striding away and talking to his radio.

“Creata?” Mike asked softly.

“Yes, Kildar?” Creata answered after a moment.

“How long?”

“I’m just beginning my drill, Kildar,” Creata said. “Eight to nine minutes, minimum.”

“Thank you, Mouse,” Mike replied then looked around the room. “Stay here or go help Oleg?” he asked rhetorically.

“You stay here,” Adams said, setting down his empty shot glass. “I’ll go help Oleg Oh Kildar!”

“Works. Vanner, status on the primary?”

“Kildar,” Vanner said. “Update on the situation with Katya. Still-unknown man pulled them out of the club over protests of the sugar daddy. Took them to area outside town with stated intention of killing them. Natalya recognized him as the ‘bad man,’ presumably the duplicate Grantham from Rozaje. Person explained most of the incident to Katya while gloating.”

“And Katya is… alive?” Mike asked.

“Katya managed to scratch him and his driver,” Vanner continued. “Was about to be killed, anyway, by the unknown man. The ‘sugar daddy’ prevented it. Turns out he’s MI-6.”

“Don’t you just love it when a plan comes together?” Mike said. “Does he recognize the perp?”

“Negative,” Vanner said. “I’ve uploaded a good face shot to Pierson; they’re trying to run a match. He’s apparently American State Department.”

“Anything odd about this guy?” Mike asked, his brain twigging at something.

“Accent,” Vanner said, immediately. “Pure Cambridge, Boston. Hah’vah’d, you know? ‘Pah’k the cah’ ?”

“Wait,” Mike said. “Run a check against the guy who first contacted me for the senator. He was a State Department brahmin…”

“Looking at the log…” Vanner said. “Wilson Hargreave Thornton. And now Google is our friend…”

“And?” Mike asked.

“Bingo,” Vanner replied. “We now have one dead member from the Moldava Desk in the woods of Albania. Except he’s actually in the Bureau of International Development.”

“Connection to Traskel?” Mike asked curiously.

“He explained it all,” Vanner replied. “Well, most. Enough. I’m sure we’ll figure out the link, other than that they run in the same circles more or less.”

“Got it,” Mike said. “Look forward to the replay.”

“That might be all we have,” Vanner said. “I sent Mikhail after them to act as security but he was late. However, he’s got a Land Rover following him according to Predator data. So somebody else appears to be after either Wilson Whatsisname or Natalya.”

“And they’re out of the box,” Mike said, cursing under his breath. “We’ll vector a recovery team in as soon as we egress this area. Tell them to either run like hell or stand pat, up to them. But we’ll be up to get them soon.”