Orlov was accompanied by only three men. One of them, Ivan Moshinsky, was a sergeant who often made his personal views on the world they lived in known to his colonel. These views were always unsolicited and very often they made his superior uncomfortable. Orlov allowed this particular man a great deal of liberty, however, for Moshinsky was as close to being a personal bodyguard as a man could be without having been so designated. As big as Orlov, the outspoken NCO was agile and quick. In addition to being a crack shot, he was utterly fearless and had no qualms about slitting a man's throat or eliminating prisoners whom the government in Moscow had no interest in putting on trial. These traits had earned him the nickname of "Great White," since neither creature had anything resembling a conscience when it came to killing.
The second man Orlov took forward with him was a private by the name of Peter Spangen. Young and eager to please, Spangen idolized Moshinsky and revered Orlov as a son would a stern, yet fair father. Spangen had come to the Russian colonel's attention in Chechnya, where his impressive marksmanship had earned him a reputation second to none. Like other snipers in the unit, he normally carried a Russian-made Dragunov SVD sniper rifle that fired a special 7.62mm cartridge. Unlike the others, this young commando had access to foreign-built weapons. His personal favorite was the Barrett 12.7mm rifle, an American-built weapon that fired a Browning heavy machine-gun round. With that weapon, Spangen had no need to get up close and personal, since anything that could be seen within a mile of his location could be hit with ease. He was equally adept when it came to employing the massive 15mm AMR rifle, built by Steyr and capable of penetrating 40mm of armor at a range of 800 meters. On this evening, the young sniper was armed with his Barrett.
The last man in this select entourage was Orlov's senior combat engineer. Slight in stature, Vladimir Kulinsky was responsible for supervising the clearing of a path through obstacles, directing forced entries into bunkers and other hard targets, and marking the route that the entire team would follow once his commander had decided upon an avenue of approach. While his role was not nearly as glamorous as Spangen's or his methods as brutally direct as Moshinsky's, his contributions were more valuable to the special-response team than those of the other two men. Kulinsky's most important skill was his ability to breach any barrier the team encountered. His proficiency in doing this had earned him the honorific of "Orlov's Door Knocker."
More than once, Demetre Orlov had claimed that together with Moshinsky, Spangen, and Kulinsky, he could storm the gates of Hell. On this evening, as the Russian colonel lay on the cold ground just outside the regional command-and-control center that they had been struggling to reach, he imagined that the day had finally come when he would have to make good on that boast.
The last flickering of fires that had consumed the aboveground barracks, administrative buildings, maintenance facilities, and storage sheds showed Orlov more than enough to convince him that this effort was going to be both difficult and bloody. In addition to the reinforced-concrete guard posts that studded the perimeter of the installation, a number of armored fighting vehicles roamed about, making their assigned rounds as they searched relentlessly for intruders such as Orlov and his team. Every now and then a dismounted patrol led by a dog and his handler came into view. After watching all of this through the night-vision sight attached to his sniper rifle, Spangen grunted. "You would think they were expecting us."
"Since when has that stopped us?" Moshinsky replied as he continued to survey the scene before him as a hunter would while picking his killing field.
Orlov made no effort to silence this idle chatter. Both men were sufficiently experienced in this sort of operation to know when they could relax their vigilance and when they had to be as silent as the dead. Having seen all they could from that particular vantage point, the Russian colonel returned his handheld night-vision goggles to their carrying case and turned to Kulinsky. The engineer was busily making notes on a sketch map of the installation, using the dim light thrown off by the distant flames. Only when Orlov saw that the man was finished did he speak. "I have seen enough."
The combat engineer nodded in agreement. "Yes, Colonel. By far, this will be the best approach. As long as the patrols maintain the rhythm we have observed, we should be able to slip through this blind spot and make it over to the emergency exit for the bunker. Provided there have been no modifications made to the steel doors, changes that were unrecorded on the plans provided to us by the Ministry of Defense, I will need only a small charge to sever the hinges." Knowing his colonel's concerns, Kulinsky explained the meaning of this. "We will be able to remain right there, on either side of the entrance, when I blow the door."
Though he was pleased with this spot of news, Orlov didn't show it. Instead, he began to back away from the perimeter posts. Always attuned to the actions of their leader and not having to be told what to do, the other members of the team also turned away. Crawling along the ground, Moshinsky fell in behind Orlov. He was followed by Kulinsky. Spangen, his deadly sniper rifle cradled in his arms, brought up the rear. Only when they were well clear of the installation they had been reconning did the men stand up and return to the assembly area. Even then, they maintained the sort of vigilance expected of professionals of their caliber while in hostile territory.
With his plan of execution firmly set in his mind, Demetre Orlov now had to gather his senior personnel, issue his orders, and get on with their mission. As the small, four-man reconnaissance party entered the loose perimeter of the assembly area, where his handpicked commandos were waiting, the darkness hid the anxious stares of his men as he passed by them on his way to the center. Even when he reached the point where his signal detachment was set up, he was totally unaware that anything was amiss. Expecting to find a gathering of selected members of his command there, such as his deputy and those belonging to the signal section, the sound of hushed voices from that gaggle of personnel did not surprise him as he drew near.
It wasn't until he stepped into the center of the group, arranged in a tight circle, did the talking come to an abrupt halt. "I assume things have been quiet here?" Orlov demanded in the brusque manner he usually used when he came upon troops engaging in activities that he was not exactly pleased with. Under ordinary circumstances, the momentary silence would quickly have been broken by the senior man present, stepping forth to offer the most viable excuse he could muster on the spur of the moment to explain away the lapse in discipline their commander had stumbled upon.
The Russian colonel was still waiting for this brave soul to do so when, to his utter horror, one of the silent figures turned a flashlight on and into his face. As he recoiled, shielding his eyes from the sudden and almost painful exposure of this unexpected illumination, Moshinsky surged forward and placed his massive frame squarely in front of Orlov. Flipping the safety of his AK off, he brought it up to his shoulder and aimed at the spot where he assumed the man with the flashlight stood. Spangen, who had pushed Kulinsky out of the way, fell in shoulder-to-shoulder with Moshinsky. Like his companion, the sniper brought his weapon up and prepared to protect his beloved commander with his own life, if necessary. Though not as quick on the uptake as the other two were, Kulinsky managed to fumble about until he had brought his AK up, turned around, and backed up until he felt himself bump into Orlov.