The Zaslon unit began moving again. Zoya watched them for a moment, then muttered “Der’mo” under her breath. She pushed back out into the deeper part of the canal and followed the others as they began rounding the bend to the target. She felt confident this unit would be able to defeat the larger force in combat, but she had no interest in engaging in a protracted battle. Going loud was a last resort, but Vasily seemed ready to commit to it rather than risk losing the target.
In theory she could have pulled the plug on the entire hit, but the reality was Vasily controlled his men, which meant he controlled this operation, and this late in the decision-making process, Zoya was just along for the ride.
Court eyed the two PAVN soldiers standing next to the ZIL-131 trucks. They stood together talking, just twenty-five yards ahead of him and slightly on his right. They held their rifles in their arms but didn’t act at all like they considered it possible they would be involved in any sort of fighting. From their relaxed demeanor Court got the idea these guys had been told to watch the trucks while the other men were sent to occupy security points in and around the villa.
These two young soldiers were the only people in view at the moment, other than the man lying on the far side of the canal, but he knew most of a Vietnamese army platoon was still close by, and he was still pinned into this position.
Court lay there next to the hot generator and marveled at what a complete and utter disaster this was turning into. The only good thing Court could see about this was that it all but confirmed his suspicions that Fan was indeed here on the property. There was no way this other paramilitary unit would show up, and the Vietnamese army would show up, unless there was something, or someone, extremely valuable in the big old house just off Court’s left shoulder.
He kept his eye on the sniper through his thermal in the hopes the man would bug out now that the damn PAVN had arrived on the scene. But the sniper did not move at all.
And then, to Court’s utter astonishment, a second man crawled out of the canal, slowly and with all the skill of a master of reconnaissance and sniper craft, just twenty feet or so to the west of the first man. Once on the other side of the canal, the new arrival turned to face the compound, and Court could see the telltale outline of a short-barreled rifle when the man brought it in front of his own body and obstructed his white-hot thermal image.
Now there were two assholes with eyes on Court’s position.
It occurred to Court that it was possible these men were a support element for an assault on the compound, and that theory looked even more likely seconds later when several white-hot signatures began appearing over the lip of the canal.
One of the Wild Tiger sentries passed in front of Court with a flashlight again, and now the man swept it around with a noticeable increase in vigor. Court wondered if the man had been alerted to a new threat, or if he was just trying to look competent in front of the soldiers all around the villa.
The figures in the canal dipped down as the sentry passed, then rose again.
Court tried to do a head count and decided there were eight or nine in all, including the pair on the southern side of the canal.
He realized this force had to have known this place was crawling with Vietnamese regular army. In total there was a defensive unit here on the property at least four or five times the number of armed men in or by the canal. Either these attackers planned on doing this entire operation in a low-profile manner — something Court would like to see them try — or else this unit was just supremely confident in their abilities at large-scale ass kicking.
And this made Court think they might be Russian — Spetsnaz from the Russian military, or possibly even the vaunted Shield force from the Russian foreign intelligence service; Zaslon, in Russian. Zaslon was known as the best of the best, akin to the CIA’s Special Activities Division Ground Branch, the unit Court himself had worked in for years.
Zaslon guys weren’t afraid to go loud, and they were often given rules of engagement that would allow just that.
Court wondered if this entire place was about to turn into a shooting gallery. If it did, he wondered if he would be able to just stay right here, tucked down and out of the fight, while chaos ensued all around.
He decided he didn’t like his chances, but he thought he had a better shot of getting through the next few minutes than either the guys on the banks of the irrigation canal or the guys wandering around the big dark property unaware of the guys by the irrigation canal, so he decided he would just continue to lie here still and silent and be ready for an opportunity to make his way back to the flooded rice paddies as soon as possible so he could egress out of the kill zone.
Just as he decided to wait this one out, he saw a pair of flashes in the dark to the south, and then the two PAVN men standing at the back of the parked trucks fell to their knees. One man then crumpled straight down and slumped under the tailgate of one of the trucks, and the other rocked forward, slamming dead onto his face without making a sound.
The two Vietnamese infantrymen had been felled by suppressed rounds from the snipers in the trees on the far side of the canal.
Seconds later the white-hot images of seven figures appeared over the lip of the canal, and they began approaching the property. The team moved in perfect harmony; Court was immediately impressed with the craft by which they worked, and from their coordination and confidence he felt sure this was the same team he’d seen hit the cargo ship on Po Toi.
One pair of operators went to the west, towards the barn, moving behind the parking area and out of Court’s view. The other five continued his way, through the grass lot where the vehicles were parked, just south of the trucks.
Court tried to identify their weapons and determined they were short-barreled Kalashnikovs of some type, and they all wore silencers. From this he thought it even more likely they were Russian operators, but he knew he couldn’t make a determination from their firearms alone.
He also noticed that one member of the group wasn’t carrying a rifle, just a pistol in his left hand. This man seemed a little smaller in frame than the others, and when he knelt down near the row of covered motorcycles, he seemed to Court to be separate from the other men moving through the lot.
While Court watched through his thermal, two of the operators slung their rifles, and then each of them took a dead Vietnamese soldier under his arms, then dragged him out of view between the two big trucks. Two of the other figures knelt down behind the BMW, and the one just carrying a pistol moved towards the BMW, putting his hand to his ear while he did so, as if listening to a radio call in his headset.
Court wished like hell he could hear that transmission.
Zoya Zakharova held her silenced Glock 19 in her left hand while she moved to the black sedan. As she progressed she used her right hand to adjust her headset to hear the transmission coming in from Yevgeni.
Yevgeni’s voice came over the earpiece. “Anna Two to One. The barn is empty. We will advance on the villa from here across the southwestern side of the property, link up with you there.”
Vasily was just feet from Zoya, tucked down behind a black BMW sedan. He keyed his mic and responded. “Ponial, Two. All remaining hostiles seem to be on the eastern side of the property, on the road, or possibly inside the villa. Both patrolling guards are out of view. We’ll meet you on the southwestern corner of the villa by the generator and make entry around the back.”