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  Doug walked Robert over to the others and introduced him to them. “Robert, this is William Divet, one of the best snipers I have ever seen.” The man looked up for just a second from his task, and nodded. “This is Roger Arnold. The most dangerous man on the planet, with just his hands. Both are members of Alpha.” Roger stood up from his task and extended his tatted arm and shook Robert’s hand. His grip was firm and became stronger with every moment they shook. The chiseled line of his jaw twitched back and forth, while his eyes conveyed a heavy amount of discontent.

  “Guys, this is Robert Deluiz, a member of Delta.”

  The duffel bags the two men carried off the transport were wide open on the floor. Inside, Robert saw multitudes of guns and clips, various round objects that he assumed were grenades, and several long rectangular blocks of what appeared to be gray clay. William and Roger returned to an inventory and check out of their equipment. They removed, cocked, checked, and loaded each gun before it was securely stored back in the duffel bag.

  Behind Robert, the Gulfstream jet started up. Roger and William gathered the bags and followed Doug toward the plane. The pilot waited at the door for the men. When they approached, he held up his hand, “Wait. Our orders said three men.”

  Doug thought for a second. “Yes, that is right. Three men, in addition to me, I was already a passenger on the flight over.”

  The pilot considered this answer and then ducked his head back inside and disappeared into the cockpit. They loaded onto the plane in a hurry and Doug pulled the door closed. As he sat, he said to Robert, “I sure hope he is not calling it in. Maldons won’t be as hospitable this time. You will probably spend your time in a cell until he can send you back.”

  Robert felt an insecure anticipation build, along with the many second thoughts he had about this. Those melted away as the plane rolled toward the hangar door. Robert watched through the window as they passed through the door and out into the raging storm. The plane kept a steady pace on the tarmac and never paused. A quick turn on the runway and the jet engines roared to life, sending the streamlined craft accelerating forward and into the night sky.

  Doug reclined his seat back and pulled his hood over his eyes as the plane leveled out.

  “You are not going to plan?” Robert asked.

  Without opening his eyes, “I already have. They are reviewing the plan now. Plus, we have six hours. I will only sleep for an hour or so.”

  Behind Robert, Roger and William were reviewing stacks of photos and notes that were stored in a vanilla envelope. Each consulting the other as they studied the images. Robert could hear their conversations and turned his chair slightly, so they were not completely behind him. They made no notice of him. He watched them with a childlike curiosity.

  “So, you guys met Doug in the agency?” he asked.

  Both glared at him with the intensity of a bulldog. A single vein under the skin of Roger’s forehead pulsated. Robert spun his chair back around and their attention returned to the stacks of pictures and documents spread across a single table between their seats.

  “They don’t like to be disturbed when preparing. Preparation is the most important part of what we do,” said Doug, without even lifting his head. “They are really nice guys, just give them a few moments to study. I suggest you get some rest, too. You will need it.”

  Robert leaned his chair back and pulled his hood down over his eyes. Beside the rustling of paper behind him, and the constant flow of air in the cabin, it was silent and peaceful. Even so, sleep came in spurts. Each time he woke either having a dream about Amy, or startled awake feeling the need to protect her. Once awake, his mind reminded him she was on her way home to safety and he felt his pulse calm down and some of the tension leave his body. The remaining tension was associated with what he was doing. Second thoughts continued to cloud his waking moments. Those were concerns he would have to deal with later. He tried to lean to either side, but that didn’t help. It wasn’t his body that was getting in the way, it was his mind.

  He heard Doug’s voice say, “You get used to it.”

  Half conscious, “What?”

  “The stress and emotional toll of all this, and missions. Every operator has trouble sleeping the first few times, but your mind eventually settles in.”

  “Did I disturb you?”

  “Nah, I am a light sleeper. Nothing to worry about. Let’s go over the plan.”

  Robert opened his eyes to find Doug leaning forward in his seat. Robert pushed his hoodie back and leaned forward, as well.

  “Roger, hand me the pictures of the airfield and the overhead map of the estate.”

  Roger flipped through the package, pulling out a total of seven pages and handed them up to Doug.

  He leaned forward to Robert and said, “Here is what we are going to do, and how you can help.”

  10

  The plane landed in the pre-dawn hours, at a secluded airfield about sixty miles north of Moscow. Robert looked out the windows and didn’t see another plane anywhere on the entire airfield. In fact, there wasn’t much of anything. It appeared to be an old, abandoned air base. The weeds and bushes growing up through the cracks in the runway and tarmac told Robert it hadn’t been used in decades. In the distance, he could see a single control tower and a few administrative buildings scattered between hangars of rusted metal. Every window was broken. Every door left open, some swaying in the wind.

  Doug sat focused at one window, searching the horizon. Roger and William were emptying the duffel bag. Lining up each gun neatly on the floor. Its related clips were stacked next to it. The grenades were stacked according to size. The last items they retrieved from the bags were three black vests. William donned his, then picked up several clips and loaded them into slots on the vest. There was a large pouch in the back of the vest that he stuffed with five grenades of various sizes. Roger did the same, and added two sticks of the gray clay into his pouch. William attempted to hand the last vest to Doug, but he waved them off with, “Not yet.”

  Roger and William sat down, carefully adjusting the fit of their vests several times. Doug said, “Wait here.” He stood up, lowered the door, and walked out. Robert strained to watch through the darkness. Doug was right on the edge of what he could see. Doug held his hand up to wave as the front of a car and a large truck emerged into view. After a few seconds a rather rotund man, wearing a thick green coat and brown fuzzy hat, greeted Doug with a friendly hug. He motioned to the plane and Roger and William exited, leaving Robert the only person on it. The man ran to embrace William with a huge smile on his face. While a younger man exited the truck and pulled a hose to the bottom of the Gulfstream Jet.

  Doug walked to the plane and knocked saying, “Robert, come on out. I have someone I want you to meet.”

  Robert walked out and toward the circle of friends who were joyously talking, laughing, and shoulder slapping.

  “Martineque, meet Robert Deluiz.”

  The Frenchman greeted Robert with an outstretched hand, “Nice to meet you, Robert.”

  Robert’s jaw dropped, spawning a laugh from everyone.

  In a harsh Russian accent, Martineque asked, “What? Were you expecting something different?” His whole body laughed, as did Doug, Roger, and William.

  Doug said, “Martineque is ex-French intelligence, and one of our best allies in this area. I still don’t know if the KGB knows he is not a natural-born Russian.”

  “And they never will. For thirteen years I drank regularly with the KGB Moscow Bureau Chief. We met in a card game. He is still one of my best friends.” His round face and rosy cheeks flashed a devious and proud smile. “Here are the keys. Don’t mess it up this time.” Martineque dropped a key into Doug’s hand.

  “Need a lift back?”

  “Nah, I will ride back with my boy once we finish fueling your bird. He may need a little help returning that truck to the airport we stole it from. Just leave the car here. I’ll pick it up later.”

  Doug, Roger, a
nd William re-boarded the plane.

  “Those are some very special men. You take good care of them,” Martineque said, with a finger in Robert’s chest to emphasis his point.

  Robert could only answer, “I will try.” He hoped they would take good care of him.

  The three secret soldiers came down the stairs again. This time Doug wore a fully stocked combat vest. Slung across his shoulder were two guns. One with a short muzzle and a bump-stock. The other appeared to be some sort of assault rifle. William carried similar weapons. Roger had a single short-muzzled automatic and a long rifle with a large scope. He walked around to the back of the car and popped the trunk. He loaded the long rifle in and slammed it shut.

  Doug walked over to Robert and handed him two objects: a set of binoculars and a handgun. He slid two clips of ammunition into the pockets of Robert’s hoodie. He grabbed his hand and put his thumb on a switch below the slide on the handgun, “This is the safety. Click it down to turn it off. You have twelve shots in each clip. Pull the trigger for each shot. Got it?” He searched Robert’s face for comprehension.

  Robert said, “Yep.”

  An object flew over Robert’s shoulder and Doug caught it. In a single motion he unscrewed the top and pulled out a glob of a black greasy concoction and spread it across Robert’s face. Then did the same to his. When Robert turned back toward the car, he noticed both Roger and William had blacked out their faces, as well.

  With a simple, “Let’s go,” the four men loaded into the simple brown saloon car and sped down the tarmac, leaving Martinique and his son to finish fueling the aircraft. After a few turns, they found the roadway and headed for the base’s security gate. They sped through the open gate, which showed damage from a recent collision with large object. The car turned out on a road surrounded by trees on both sides. Doug drove for several miles before turning on the headlights. Roger referred to a map for each of the several turns they would need to make to reach their destination.

  Their surroundings were a departure from the tropical Southern California foliage he was used to. Dense forests of tall evergreen trees replaced palm trees, and colorful fauna with spots of barren landscape intermixed. His imagination didn’t have to work hard to see the wintery Russian landscape that is so often depicted in movies and books.

  Doug pulled the car off the tarmac road and onto a dirt road that meandered through the trees. The path consisted of two rutted lanes of dirt and mud. The car rolled and groaned side to side as the wheels hit potholes. Large shudders traveled through the car when the frame bottomed out on the area between the ruts. Doug maintained a consistent speed the whole time. That made the ride violent at times, throwing the occupants around the car. Robert thought about asking him to slow down, but noticed Roger counting to himself while he watched the speedometer.

  A low limb bounced off the top of the sedan, prompting Doug to say, “Martinique will have to buff that out.” Roger kept counting. Bump, thud, shudder, nor crash dissuaded him from his count. Robert watched intently and noticed his hand starting to raise up. It hung there in the air for a second before tapping Doug on the shoulder. Doug brought the car to a stop. He leaned forward and looked around. The others, including Robert, did as well. Robert didn’t know what they were looking for though.

  William called out, “Over there. To the left.”

  “I see it,” replied Doug.

  The car crept toward the left. It lurched as the wheels on the right rolled up and over the middle section. Doug guided the car into a small gap in the trees and then pulled into another hole to the right. He stopped the car. William got out and walked behind the car and back to the road. He knelt down to the ground and looked in the car's direction. He stood up and did the same.

  “You’re good. I can’t see anything. The ground is hard-packed here.”

  Doug shut off the car. Robert got out and looked at the ground William had inspected. He was right, there was very little evidence, if any at all, that a car had rolled across it.

  Doug said, “We walk the rest of the way. Let’s go.”

  Robert looked up and saw Roger and William had already disappeared into the woods. He hurried and followed behind Doug.

  12

  Roger made frequent checks of his GPS, with a few littles adjustments in direction as they maneuvered through the dense trees and underbrush. In all the movies Robert had seen, someone would walk ahead with a machete, cutting a path. The three men in front of him made every attempt to not disturb a single branch. The pushed each one back with care, stepping around it before letting it loose. Robert mimicked this care, without understanding why.

  William dropped back toward Robert and Doug.

  “So, Robert, what branch were you in?”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Intelligence?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then what assault or operative experience do you have?”

  “None.”

  “Wait. You have no experience?” William sounded more than a little agitated at this news.

  “No.”

  William grabbed Doug by the vest and pulled him within inches of his own face. “What the hell? You brought a civi?”

  Doug shook loose. “Yes. Relax. I will handle him.”

  “Oh, no, buddy. We are putting our life on the line, and you brought a liability. Just send him back to the car.”

  Doug insisted, “William, I will handle it.”

  William walked next to Doug, matching him step-for-step. His arms and hands emphasized every statement, “We don’t have time to baby-sit anyone during this. It is too dangerous. Does he even know what we are walking into?”

  “I filled him in. He will be fine. Hell, he had the choice to go home and knew what we are walking into, and still decided to come along.”

  Robert could hear every word they said. His mind rehearsed every rebuttal he thought about offering, but held his silence. This was a conversation he needed to stay out of. Nothing he said, or Doug, would resolve William’s fears. Instead, Robert needed to follow Doug’s directions closely.

  William threw up his arms in frustration, searching for the right words. Nothing came. Instead, he issued a warning, one that came across loud and clear to Robert as he pounded a right fist into his open left hand. “If he gets in the way, I will shoot him.”

  A panic hit Robert causing him to gasp. He hoped no one else had heard that.

  “That’s fine,” said Doug.

  William sped up to walk in front of Doug. He grumbled the whole way, with an occasional physical outburst.

  Doug looked back at Robert and shook his head. He mouthed, “Don’t worry about it.” That did little to eliminate Robert’s concern.

  They walked for another hour through the woods and across a small stream. They went up a small rise. Just before the ridge, the three caught up with Roger. They had arrived at the GPS coordinates he’d entered from the map earlier. A tall black wrought-iron fence traversed the landscape above them, on the ridge. This was the edge of Ivan’s estate. Roger, William, and Doug lay prone on the ground and then crawled to the lower edge of the fence. Robert followed, repeating their moves.

  A canopy of trees overhung the fence, but beyond that, the entire area was clear of trees. An immense lush green lawn extended as far as they could see. It was only broken up by the long circular drive that led in from the outside, which delivered you right at the front, and then back out. The four-story white building was larger than the picture did justice. It was enormous. White Grecian columns flanked the front entry on either side. Above the ground floor, windows lined each floor, hinting at where the various rooms were located.

  While Robert took in the impressive grandeur before him, the others were noting other features. The banks of security cameras, located on the corners of the building and the alcove containing the front door. The single camera on a pole, watching the service entrance on the side. The evidence of a frequently walked path, just inside the fence’s perimeter, hintin
g at a regular patrol.

  William pulled a device from a pocket in his vest and worked several dials and keys on a numeric keypad. A smile crossed his face, the first smile Robert had seen since the argument with Doug, and he whispered, “We’re in.” He turned the device for the others to see a succession of changing images on a small screen on the device. The images alternated through some twenty different shots until the same image came back again. In one image they all saw a patrol of two, walking the fence line and heading their way, from the right. They slid down the hill out of sight of the patrol. Each member of the team lay there quietly as they heard the footsteps of the patrol on the ground and leaves. The two-man patrol was talking back and forth with each other as they passed by. They made no attempt to look down the hill, or at anything.

  After a few more hours of surveillance, they retreated a ways back from the fence and settled just short of the small creek they’d crossed earlier. The midday sun shone low on the horizon, casting long shadows through the forest. The shadows and the cooler temperatures made his body think it was late evening on a fall day. He fought the urge, but lost and let out a long yawn.

  “We keeping you up past your bedtime, rookie?”

  Doug sniped, “Knock it off, William.”

  “Still not happy about this.”

  “I get it. It will be fine.”

  Robert opened his mouth to talk, but Doug made eye contact and shook his head. He was out of his element here, but didn’t like the level of disrespect they were showing. He walked over to Doug and whispered, “I can stay here.”

  “Out of the question. I need you with me. William will understand why.” Robert hoped Doug was right. He understood the tasks Doug had laid out for him on the plane, he just hoped when the time came, he could carry it out how he expected.

  “Let’s relax and eat some chow. It will be dark soon. We have a long night ahead of us.”