58
Lam was more right than he knew. It was less than a kilometer. And in only a few minutes, Li Na heard Peng’s three beaters behind her.
They were moving louder than she expected. Detectable in three different directions, sounding as though they had spread out. The men were clearly unaware of how much of their noise was carrying through the trees, or even the thumping of their feet upon the damp soil. They were either unaware or much closer than she thought.
Li Na rose to her feet and continued forward for a few steps before she stopped again in her tracks. The breeze, flowing gently from the front… smelled. Traces of an odor not belonging to the plants or wildlife around her.
It was very subtle and more akin to body odor. Human body odor.
Li Na suddenly stiffened. They were in front of her too!
Her body flushed with a fresh dose of adrenaline, and she instinctively cowered lower to the ground. Turning her head and ears told her the men in front of her had also spread out, leaving few options.
She could hear them clearly now. They were so close! The adrenaline surged powerfully through her veins and heightened her senses even more.
And there it was.
Listening carefully to the sounds both in front and behind her, an opening between two of the outermost men revealed itself. A sliver of space just big enough that would take them too long to close in. A sliver that Li Na could use if she moved quickly.
Her movement was almost instantaneous. She leaped, with her head still down, and moved through the tall grass as quickly as she could, scrambling down a small embankment and through a grouping of large granite rocks.
59
Cruising at three hundred feet below the ocean, the large Russian submarine pushed slowly and silently through the dark water. Deep enough to remain immune from surface currents, the sub’s gentle rocking was virtually undetectable to all but the most sensitive of its crew.
In front of the control room in the sub’s forward hatch, the ten-man Russian team surveyed and inventoried their equipment one final time. Like U.S. forces, the Russian Special Forces, referred to as Spetsnaz, were meticulous to the point of obsession. Everything had been planned. Every essential system and piece of equipment checked and rechecked. Repeatedly.
They had rehearsed the plan dozens of times, looking for anything that might go wrong and building contingencies. Every variable the men could think to eliminate from chance, they had.
The Western nations first became aware of the Russian Spetsnaz group in the 1970s, at the height of the Cold War. Also known as troops of “special purpose,” the teams numbered nearly 30,000 men, providing one regiment for each Soviet theater of operation.
However, with individual companies numbering at just over a hundred, most teams operated on a smaller scale consisting of eight to ten specialists. The teams were trained and used for a variety of covert missions, some of which included seeking out and killing enemy political or military leaders. Spetsnaz soldiers, whose existence was a closely guarded secret under the Warsaw Pact, were forbidden to even admit their membership, even conducting operations while wearing standard army and naval uniforms to avoid detection.
Most Spetsnaz missions were designed and carried out as reconnaissance and sabotage actions. This was including the destruction of foreign command posts and communications systems for foreign nuclear guidance programs. And much like the U.S. Special Forces, the Spetsnaz underwent exhaustive psychological and physical training, eventually being left to operate autonomously for days or weeks at a time. As they were now.
Sergeant Alexander Popov, the mission lead and a man who couldn’t fit the Russian stereotype any better, stared pensively ahead. His bald head, dour expression, and wide frame stood before the hatch as if made of stone.
Due to the nature of their designs, research ships were easier to board than most others. Low sterns for their equipment and instruments left them vulnerable to attack — the reason why those that were deemed important were usually escorted by warships.
The oil platform was a different story. It would be harder. Much more defensible, although not by intention. It was merely a fortunate benefit of having the bottom platform designed to be much higher off the surface of the water. Getting to that first level without detection would be tough and would need to be carefully timed with the team that would overtake the Pathfinder ship. The element of surprise was the greatest advantage in any fight, and this time Popov’s men would need as much as they could get.
Fortunately, the submarine would provide most of it.
But it was still a big boat, meaning they could only get so close while submerged. The final hour would be spent gliding in slowly with only a wisp of propulsion until the men were ready to exit the sub, still submerged — something that every sub crewmember in the Navy was trained to do.
Once they broke the surface, both Spetsnaz teams would have to move quickly. Because even at a thousand meters, detection prior to reaching the vessels was a huge risk.
If they were spotted in the water, the advantage would be lost and the attack would quickly turn into a firefight on the water. And that meant shooting to kill every person they saw, as quickly as possible.
It was the worst scenario for both Popov’s team as well as the unsuspecting Americans.
60
DeeAnn awoke to the bounce on the runway and sudden reversal of jet engines outside, followed immediately by intense shuddering as the plane’s brakes began to slow the powerful aircraft.
The shaking subsided, and she cleared her eyes to find Dulce at one of the small windows, peering out excitedly. Twisting around on the padded bench seat, she turned as far as her five-point seatbelt would allow her.
The small gorilla was talking and moving her hands quickly, leaving DeeAnn scrambling to turn her vest on.
— bird. Home now. We home. Down.
DeeAnn glanced at the smaller Dexter, wearing his own makeshift harness, then to Clay and Caesare. Both men were sitting directly across from her. “How long was I out?”
“Just through the scary part,” Caesare grinned.
“Very funny.” She looked to Clay for a serious answer.
“A couple hours.”
“Wow.” She straightened up and adjusted her own belt. “Doesn’t feel like it.”
We fly mommy. We fly.
“Yes, we did,” she replied, simultaneously ruffling the tuft of fur on Dulce’s dark head. She gave Caesare a sidelong glance and covered the vest’s microphone with one hand. “And this time, we didn’t almost die. Or have to jump out of it.”
“The day’s still young, Dee.”
“All right, that’s not funny.”
DeeAnn turned back and studied Dexter, who was once again watching them all carefully. It had taken hours, and a lot of back and forth with Dulce, before the monkey allowed her to put him into the harness. And only after Dulce was already in hers. But that was the hardest part of the flight, which was to say the whole thing went much smoother than she’d feared. Traveling with Clay, and especially Caesare, tended to introduce surprises, and the trend had left her constantly on guard.
Across from her, Steve Caesare was enjoying the playful exchange. The truth was he cared a great deal for DeeAnn, and like it or not, they were becoming fast friends. Not the least of which was due to the turmoil they’d been through together. But while it had obviously been a harrowing experience for her and the others, to Clay and Caesare it was just another day at the office.
Still covering the vest’s microphone, DeeAnn looked softly at both men. “Listen, I’d like to apologize to both of you. I should have told you about Rwanda sooner. I’m sorry.”