"More like an extermination," Leo said.
"Exactly. Like Parker said, we stick to the basics on this mission. Get in, figure out what the virus does and document as much evidence as possible. Our job is to get as much information to Berg as possible. The Russians are playing the containment game, and everyone else is in the dark. Berg wants enough evidence to crack this wide open," Petrovich said.
"All right, we'll approach the southwest end of town, stash the skis and set another GPS point," Farrington added.
They set off on skis as the two helicopters banked left and raced back toward the center of Monchegorsk. A loud explosion rocked the hills, and they turned in time to see another fireball reach skyward from a building several kilometers into the city, far from the two attack helicopters. They continued to follow the lightly travelled snowmobile trail that had brought them this far and would bring them to a point concealed in the forest, less than a half kilometer from a series of industrial buildings. They'd hide among the pine trees and wait for dark.
Chapter 37
Petrovich sprinted for the rear corner of the building closest to the cluster of trees that had served as their final approach point to the outskirts of town. He reached the rusted metal edge of the prefabricated structure and stopped to scan the area beyond with his night vision. He listened to the area around the buildings, and after spending a few minutes of studying the green images produced by his handheld scope, he signaled for the rest of the team to join him. Sporadic distant gunfire drifted through the maze of structures, masking the direction of its origin.
From what he could tell, none of the action was focused on this part of town, which should simplify their approach to the apartment buildings on the southwest edge. Their main risk involved crossing Highway M18, which carried a steady stream of military traffic and patrols. There would be ample opportunity to cross unobserved, but it still made Daniel nervous. Unfortunately, every approach from the west crossed M18, but this route provided the cover of several lifeless buildings that were unlikely to attract any attention. Most of the windows were missing, and they saw no signs of recent human activity from their hide site in the forest. As the rest of the group stacked up along the concrete wall, Daniel checked the area again.
"We'll move up together through the buildings and approach the highway. We can watch a considerable stretch of road from ground level on either side. Once across, we'll hightail it to the abandoned gas station on the other side. Our goal is to find a way into one of the apartment buildings less than a mile from the station," he said and took off without warning.
The team worked its way through another five hundred meters of neglected gray buildings, dodging large heaps of scrap metal and discarded industrial materials. They moved as quietly as possible through pitch-black expanses, stopping momentarily to scan for sentries or anything out of place that might signify an early end to their trip.
By consensus, they had agreed to focus their attention on a block of several closely clustered five-story apartment buildings in the western suburbs of Monchegorsk. By day, the apartments looked like they might have been thoroughly evacuated, but as night descended, they picked up hints of light with their night vision through the thin curtains of several windows. They'd close in on the nearest building and find a place to observe the area for a while.
If they could see lights inside the apartments with second generation civilian night vision scopes, the Russians could see them, too. Russian units would be equipped with fourth generation night vision optics, thermal imaging equipment and infrared detection gear. Based on what they witnessed all afternoon, the Russians were scouring the city with no rules of engagement.
Upon reaching the last building before the highway, Daniel signaled for them all to hold at the corner. He lowered his body and crawled through the dirty snow along a row of dead bushes to the front of the building. He raised his head far enough to see down the road to the south and did the same for the north. Nothing. No illumination or signs of movement. He pulled out his night vision scope and took a look in each direction.
The green image didn't reveal any hidden surprises, but it emphasized the limitations of their night vision gear. The persistent, thin haze blanketing Monchegorsk during the day remained at night to reduce the effective visual range through his scope. For longer distance spotting, they would be better off using the naked eye. The Russians wouldn't have this problem with the newer generation low-light technology. Daniel's team would have to be extremely cautious when making decisions based on long-range detection capabilities.
"One person at a time will crawl up. Stay low. If a vehicle approaches from the south, this wall will be exposed, but you should have enough cover. When you get to the corner, watch the road for a minute to be sure it’s clear, then sprint across. Rally point is behind the gas station."
He heard the rest of the team whisper their acknowledgment and glanced down the road in each direction. All clear, he hoped. Daniel was on his feet in a flash, sprinting in the direction of the gas station. He crossed the road diagonally and skirted the edge of the station's parking lot, headed straight for a large trash dumpster behind the small building. He reached the back wall and slammed his left foot into the door, which gave slightly. He stepped back and kicked it again, splintering the door frame and sending the door inward. He unslung his rifle and moved quickly to the outside corner of the gas station.
"All clear at the station. The back door is open. Rally point inside," he said.
A figure appeared across the street, barreling in his direction. A few minutes later, they huddled inside the frigid gas station. Sergei was the last to arrive.
"I didn't see anything on the road. I think we're good," he said.
"All right. Let's move out. Schafer, you'll bring up the rear. Stay back far enough to watch over us and provide cover if anything pops up," Daniel said.
Schafer gave him a thumbs up that he could barely see in the dark.
"We all need to be on the lookout for snipers. If you hear a snap or see a flash…sprint for three hundred and sixty degree cover. Whatever you do, don't stay in place. I hunted groups like this for two years, and the only thing that ever saved my targets was an immediate panicked sprint for cover."
"I thought you didn't miss," Farrington said.
"I don't. I was talking about the only response that kept me from killing everyone in the group."
"We need to get moving," Farrington said.
"I'll take point. Farrington, Sergei and Leo bring up the middle. Schafer, you know what to do."
"You're never going to call me Yuri, are you?" Farrington said.
"Probably not. Move out," Daniel said and disappeared running.
Fifty minutes later, Daniel walked slowly through a small children's playground. An apartment building loomed overhead, yielding no signs of life. He scanned the windows, aiming the rifle where he looked. It looked dead, but they knew better. He slowly approached a door on the ground level and squinted intensely at the dark gray and blue image provided by the naked eye. He could barely see twenty feet in front of him.
"Do you see anything on the ground level?"
"Negative. I still have a few windows on the third and fourth floor with activity," Schafer said from his over watch position in the distance.
"Roger."
He reached the door and leaned against the concrete wall to its right, extending his right hand to test the door handle. It didn't budge, but he could tell that the door opened inward, which was a good thing if they had to use brute force. Daniel removed both of his thin gray Nomex gloves and stuffed them into cargo pockets. He retrieved a small zippered kit from his backpack and started using the contents to open the door's lock. He tried several combinations of small tools until he felt the tumbler move. He squeezed the thumb mechanism on the top of the handle and pushed inward on the door, which moved effortlessly on its hinges. Perfect.