“Now we need to fill each bucket with the right amount of explosive,” Xander said. His face was blank, emotionless, as they worked.
“Can I ask a personal question?” Animus asked.
Xander poured Tovex into a plastic bucket and weighed it with the scale to make sure it was the correct amount. “Yes,” he said after a moment.
Animus couldn’t contain the anger in his heart, and it overpowered his voice, making it tremble. “This has all become so ugly. How do you keep from being consumed by it?”
After adjusting the amount of Tovex in the bucket, Xander emptied it into one of the fifty-five-gallon barrels. “I am not sure I understand.”
Animus tried to mimic Xander’s calm and even manner, and measured the next amount of Tovex before pouring it into a barrel. “I feel so much rage at these Americans, and it’s driving me crazy.”
“Rage is good,” Xander said. “Rage fulfills destiny.”
“You lost your wife and daughter, yet now you seem so calm. I don’t understand how you do it.”
“It is the calm before the storm,” Xander said. “Success is my revenge.”
“Success?”
“I am not half-Greek like you, but you are half-Russian like me, and as Russians, we know how to immerse ourselves in fighting the West and delusions of glasnost and perestroika. I know you can feel what I am saying is true. Together, you and I will crush the American and his allies. Our success will be our revenge.”
Animus nodded.
They completed portioning the Tovex into each of the barrels. Then they distributed liquid nitromethane, diesel fuel, and ammonium nitrate fertilizer into each of the drums. “Now we need to shape the charge,” Xander explained. “We will pack the rest of the fertilizer around the explosives, leaving one wall of the van empty. When the bomb explodes, it will blast through the area of least resistance, the empty wall. That will be the one facing UKP headquarters. Because the blast will be directed in one direction, we will be able to post our little army around the area, using trees in the park for cover, to make sure no one defuses it. Anyone who survives the blast and tries to escape the building, we will shoot.”
“Will this destroy the whole building?” Animus asked.
“It will destroy much of the first floor,” Xander said, “and I hope the unsupported weight of the building will make the rest of it collapse. After the explosion, we’ll sweep through St. James Square and shoot everyone we see.” He duct-taped two PVC pipes to the floor, running from the explosives to the driver’s seat. He grimaced and pulled so hard on the tape it looked as if he was strangling it. Then he slashed the tape with his knife. “Five years ago, on the twenty-first of December, the West was responsible for the death of my wife.”
“It is why we call ourselves 21D,” Animus said, repeating what Xander had told him previously. “In her memory.”
“It is time to remember her again. And Evelina.” He smothered the pipes with paint to blend with the color of the van’s floorboards. “It is time for the pogrom.” It is time for the massacre.
Then he stabbed a fuse through one of the pipes. “Now you do the other.”
Seeing Xander’s acrimony bleed through to the surface made Animus’s heart wrench for the man and increased his desire to triumph in their mission. He ran the second fuse through the other pipe.
“Excellent,” Xander said. “We’ll join one end of each fuse to the thirteen blasting caps, which will connect to tubes of Tovex that will detonate the explosives in each barrel. And we’ll hook up a detonator to the driver’s side of the fuse.”
“Why two fuses, then?” Animus asked.
“Just in case one does not work properly. In Moscow we say, ‘If you are going for a day trip, take a week’s supply of bread.’”
“I’m with you to the death,” Animus said.
“The death will be theirs. Then we can begin Phase Three.
18
At 0745, Business Tourist appeared. Chris, Sonny, and Hannah geared up, and the guys took positions in St. James Square, Chris on foot and Sonny in a vehicle, while Hannah provided surveillance from the office. When a three-van motorcade turned down Duke of York Street, Sonny cut them off and pretended to have car trouble, so he could take a peek at who was in the motorcade.
The men in the vans and Business Tourist began shooting, and Chris and Sonny defended themselves. The lead van sped forward and hit Sonny’s “stalled” vehicle with a smack and pushed Sonny’s car out of the way before turning onto St. James Square and proceeding toward UKP. The van behind it, riddled with bullets from Chris and Sonny, rolled forward into the intersection but didn’t make the turn. A black taxi sped around the square and plowed into the van with a horrific metal crack, smashing the front of the taxi and knocking the van over on its side. The taxi driver appeared to be pinned between the steering wheel and his seat. He wasn’t moving.
Behind the first two vans, the third van didn’t go anywhere, but Xander and nine of his men — armed with AK-47 assault rifles — poured out of the tail of the vehicle. Chris tried to take a shot, but Xander ducked back behind the van before he could squeeze the trigger.
Sonny was vulnerable standing in the open without any cover or concealment, and he must have seen how outnumbered he was, because he sprinted toward Chris, who covered him by laying down suppressive fire into Xander’s group.
The first van had stopped in front of UKP. Its back doors flew open, and Animus and an armed gang of close to a dozen appeared.
Xander and his men faced Chris and fired at him from near the third van.
Sonny jumped over a fence surrounding the park area, and just after he weaved into the trees, an explosion lifted the tipped-over van completely off the street. The earth quaked, Sonny stumbled, and a geyser sprouted up out of the ground, spewing chunks of asphalt with it.
“Chris!” a voice screamed from the chaos. Xander. “I know you are here. I will find you, and I will kill you!”
A number of pedestrians had cleared out of the area, but some stragglers remained.
“I got your back,” Hannah said, but her voice came from both Chris’s earpiece and behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see her there, HK416 at the ready. He didn’t have the luxury of concern for her safety and was happy to have another gun in the fight.
Through Old Faithful, Chris spotted one of Xander’s men, armed with an AK, as he executed a civilian. Chris put his red dot on the man with the AK and squeezed, and Sonny fired at another enemy armed with an AK. Two down.
Somebody from Xander’s group fired in Chris’s direction, but his shots struck nowhere near Chris. “They’re shooting at civilians!” he shouted.
While the loud noise of the AK gave away the shooter’s position, the SOG trio were using sound suppressors. Any sounds from their shots dissipated quickly, disguising their true location. A businessman stood in front of UKP petrified with fear, and a businesswoman tried to crawl to safety, but Xander’s group approached steadily, blasting through them. There were too many bad guys and not enough good guys.
To the right, Animus’s team seemed confused. Maybe they didn’t understand why the other two vehicles in their three-van convoy hadn’t joined them. Hannah whacked one of Animus’s men, causing Animus and the others to hunker down.
The two groups of enemy combatants were each fifty meters away. Although Xander was probably deadlier than Animus, the younger man had a few more men by his side. Chris helped Hannah fire on Animus’s group. The airy pop-pop of Sonny’s carbine let Chris know Sonny was taking care of business, too.
One of Animus’s men poked his head out from behind the van, and Chris poked it back with a bullet to the skull. It was a damn good shot, and Chris felt proud. While he anticipated another target presenting itself, a flow of water swept over his shoes. The broken main and rainwater were flooding in his team’s direction.