Moshenko kept looking at Grant, seeing he was down on one knee, still firing the Uzi in short bursts. Finally getting up into a crouch position, he started scooting backwards a little at a time.
Adler reached the helo and started climbing up, when Mullins grabbed his arm and hauled him onboard. Both men immediately started firing their weapons, trying to give Grant some protection, enough for him to make it to the chopper. They watched him backing up, continuing to fire. All three shouted at him, motioning with their hands. “Come on! Come on!”
Suddenly, Grant staggered, and went down. Mullins yelled, “Grant!” He jumped out the door, barely took one step, when a bullet struck him in the chest. Adler grabbed him by the back of his collar, and he and Moshenko dragged him back up into the cabin. Blood was spreading across his chest, pooling next to him. Adler already knew it wasn’t good.
The Russians and East Germans were starting to make an all out assault now, rushing toward the helo. Adler rammed another clip into the pistol and fired as he hollered at the top of his lungs, “Get us outta here!”
The attackers stopped their assault as the chopper started climbing. Adler and Moshenko steadied themselves, gripping the sides of the door, staring down in disbelief, seeing Grant’s body with two Russians standing over him. One knelt next to him briefly, then they each grabbed one of his arm’s and started dragging him from the scene.
Adler had tears welling up in his eyes, as he shouted, “We’ll come back for you, skipper! That’s a fuckin’ promise!” Moshenko rested a hand on Adler’s shoulder, unable to find any words.
When he could no longer see Grant, Adler looked down at Mullins laying at his feet. He got down on a knee, feeling for a pulse in his neck, then his wrist, pressing, searching, feeling nothing. “Oh, Christ! Tony. Dammit! Goddammit!”
Without warning, a huge blast shook the chopper. Adler and Moshenko both threw their arms in front of their faces from sheer reaction, as the KA-27 blew up. A ball of fire, smoke and debris shot up and out in every direction. Pieces of blades spiraled out of control, some heading toward the forest, others splashing into the river.
“Oh, Jesus!” Adler shouted. He leaned toward the door, holding on, trying to see beyond the flames and smoke, looking for anybody. It was no use.
The chopper pilot keyed his mike. “Foxtrot 73 calling Nightingale 25! Foxtrot 73 calling Nightingale 25! Come in Nightingale 25! Over!”
“Nightingale 25. Go ahead Foxtrot 73. Over.”
“Have eight souls onboard! Request stretcher for one! Doesn’t look good! Acknowledge! Over!”
“Roger, Foxtrot 73! We’re ready!” Out!”
Joe Adler and Grigori Moshenko stood by the open door, nervously awaiting touchdown. Even with the rotors still winding down and blades rotating, two medics ran to the helo, carrying a stretcher. They lifted Mullins’ body, laid him on it, then hurried back to the C-9A.
Jumping out of the helo first, Adler and Moshenko then helped the five men down, escorted them to the aircraft, and waited until they were safely onboard.
Adler took hold of Moshenko’s arm. “Sir, let’s go. I’ve gotta get to the Embassy.” As they ran back to the waiting chopper, the Nightingale was already taxing into position for takeoff, with its destination Landstuhl, about one hour flying time.
Once at the Embassy, Adler made the introductions between Moshenko and Greeley. He had a brief moment of satisfaction seeing Alexandra rush into her husband’s arms.
It was time for him to leave that reunion. He had to make his call. He took the elevator to the lower level, to the cryptology room, having received authorization from Bureau Chief Greeley.
One of the crypto guys punched in a code, giving Adler access to a smaller room with a scrambler. He and Grant used this same room and equipment on the Lampson mission.
There wasn’t one iota of time to waste. Putting a call through to Torrinson was his top priority. They had to find Grant.
Torrinson was stretched out on the leather sofa, with his stocking feet perched on the armrest. His eyes were closed but sleep was avoiding him. He and Zach decided to tough it out at the office, waiting for word.
A knock at the door, and he responded, “Come.” He slid his legs over the edge of the couch and sat up, smoothing back his hair.
“Sir,” Zach said, poking his head in the doorway. “It’s Lieutenant Adler on the red one, sir.”
Torrinson looked up. “Joe?” he asked on his way to the desk.
“Yes, sir,” Zach replied, then closed the door behind him.
Torrinson didn’t have a good feeling. “Joe, where are you?”
“At the Embassy, sir. I’m reporting that five men are on their way to Landstuhl. All are safe, admiral.”
Torrinson looked overhead, before closing his eyes in relief. “Wonderful news, Joe!”
“Yes, sir. And the colonel is here. Agent Mullins managed to get Mrs. Moshenko out of Moscow, and she’s here, too, sir.”
So far so good,Torrinson thought. He resisted the urge to ask about Grant. Joe would get to it in his own time. Maybe Grant just sent him to make the call while he took care of the Moshenkos.
“So, Agent Mullinswas with you. I hope he knows the Agency’s been looking for him. He’d better have some good answers ready.” Silence. “Joe?”
Adler paced in front of the counter, nervously rubbing a hand across his forehead. “Sir, Agent Mullins was killed early this morning.”
Torrinson caught his breath. “What happened?”
“Our chopper was taking small arms fire. Captain Stevens sent an emergency transmission to Tony, just before our chopper went down. When Tony’s chopper landed, he was helping everyone get onboard. He jumped out, and… he caught a bullet in the chest. He died just about instantly, sir.” Adler was reliving the whole scene in his mind. He had to lean against the counter to steady himself.
More anxious than ever, Torrinson asked in a low voice, “Joe, where’s Grant?”
“Sir, Captain Stevens ordered us to the rescue chopper while he tried to hold off the assault, giving us more time.” Adler’s voice cracked as he said, “We saw him get hit, sir.” Torrinson put a hand to his forehead, shaking his head in disbelief. Adler immediately added, “But I think he’s alive, admiral. Two Russians pulled him up, then dragged him off.”
“Thank God,” Torrinson murmured, as he flopped back against his chair.
“Admiral, we’ve gotta find him! We… ”
“Joe, I’ve had a Team from Little Creek on standby since Grant called from Moscow. They’ve been in the air for hours.” There was a brief moment of silence before Torrinson spoke again. “Joe, you did not, I repeat, you did not leave Grant behind. You did what had to be done. You were following Grant’s orders.” Torrinson tried an attempt at levity. “Knowing you, following orders can be a challenge.”
Adler pretty much ignored the comment. “But, sir, we don’t have any idea where they could’ve taken him. They were headed into the trees. We lost sight of them. With any sort of transportation, they could’ve gone in any direction, sir. They could be anywhere by now.”
Torrinson had the same thought, but said, “I have a feeling there’s a shitload of transmissions flying around Russia. I’ll have to call the President first, then check with CIA.”
“Request permission to go with the Team to find the captain, sir.”
“Permission denied, lieutenant.”
“But, sir… ”
“You stay where you are. Don’t leave the Embassy until you hear from me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll go find the colonel. He’s probably going through a G2 now. We’re all worried as hell, sir.”