“Okay, are you clear on the plan?” Sanders asked.
“Definitely.”
“Okay, run it by me again.”
“Sure. I’ll douse the lights early and park the car before we get to the driveway, so we have cover from the tree line. As we’re rolling up, I’ll check the woods for a good spot to cut through. You’ll head around by way of the driveway and check the trailer while I backtrack to the cut-through spot and head toward the trailer from there. After that we’ll just have to wing it.”
“You’ve got it.” He smiled and their eyes met. “Good luck.”
She sensed he was distracted, that something other than losing his men had him deeply concerned, but she could also see that his words were sincere — it was in his eyes.
“Thanks, you too,” she said.
Chapter 64
Sanders watched her disappear into the trees and admired the view while he could. The order from Director Culder weighed heavily on his mind, but this was a business where you did what you were told or you didn’t stay around for long. He realized it would be tough to make her death look like an accident, but he knew he’d figure something out — he always did.
He crept around the driveway and used the machinery lined up near the trailer for cover. The smell of oil was strong and his footfalls light and silent. His primary weapon, a standard-issue Glock 23, was already drawn as he made his way through the shadows. The weight of the weapon stowed in the small of his back was distracting. It was the gun he planned to use on Agent Moynihan, and feeling its weight prompted him to search for a sign of her across the gravel road.
A thin beam of light from a passing car sliced through the trees as he neared the trailer. He stood still and listened for movement, the dominant sound being his own heartbeat. Sanders emerged slowly from the shadows and worked his way toward one of the windows in the trailer. He moved to the door and heard the faint shuffling of feet on gravel grow louder just before his world went black.
Chapter 65
The Bratva boss gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk, and his soldier sat down.
“What do you have for me?”
The soldier cleared his throat nervously and said, “It’s Dennis Zander. He got away from me in a bar.”
Kozlov’s face twitched with anger, but he didn’t speak.
“He was scared,” the soldier continued, “so I think he is the one that you want. There was nothing else I could do in that situation.”
Kozlov shook his head. “This is not good news.” His anger began to boil, and he raised his voice. “We can’t have any of these hackers running around telling the world what’s been going on here, you idiot!”
The soldier lowered his head. “It will not happen again.”
“I should think not,” Kozlov yelled.
“I didn’t realize he had so much information about our operation. Your orders were not to kill him on sight, or the job would have been done.”
Kozlov balled his fists and took a deep breath. “He has enough to make things difficult, but not enough to take us down.”
“I will go back out and find him.”
“No. I need to send someone who can get the job done.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Leave.”
He watched the soldier leave his office and was tempted to put a bullet in his head, but decided against it only because of the mess it would make. He picked up his phone and placed a call. Dimitri Sokov answered on the first ring.
“’Allo?” he said.
“It’s Zander, one of the Americans,” Kozlov said.
“I know. I just sent Mikhail to your office to inform you.”
“How much damage can he do?”
“We’re examining his code now. I want to make sure he hasn’t left us with any surprises. We review the code changes weekly, so I should know within the hour.”
“Good.”
Kozlov considered his conversation with Khrushchev. This was a golden opportunity for the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics to rise up from the ashes. He visualized the hammer and sickle, a feared symbol of power, and it sent a wave of excitement through his body.
“We may need to move the operation up,” Kozlov said. “It could be risky to put it off any longer.”
Zander getting away had been the second dose of bad news this evening. Earlier, Bruce Campbell had informed the Russian that Francis Millar had escaped, and Kozlov was deeply concerned about the individual who had helped him to get away.
“They lost the hacker in Washington again,” Kozlov explained. “It looks like he is working with our friend from Switzerland. The American.”
Sokov was silent while he considered the connection. “I will run the selection algorithm on the most recent dataset so we can pull down a new set of targets.”
“Do whatever you need to do to get it done,” Kozlov demanded. This time his voice was markedly more intense.
“The most recent encryption keys were sent to Virginia and should be arriving soon, but we’ll need to pull the recent information from the banks and then send an update of the targets. It might be possible to have things ready by Monday. I will try in case you decide to move forward.”
Kozlov was angered by his response. Everything was riding on this operation. “Try?” he snapped, violence seeping into his voice.
“We will be ready if you need to launch the attack on Monday,” Sokov confirmed.
Chapter 66
She used a metal chair in the trailer as an anchor for his restraints. Veins protruded unnaturally from his arms and demonstrated that the plastic tying him down wasn’t there for comfort. Agent Cathy Moynihan had strapped the attacker securely when he was unconscious. The job was a difficult one, given the difference in size between the two of them. That didn’t matter much to a woman with her qualities. She was tough and resourceful, and always found a way to get the job done.
The last fifteen minutes had been difficult. At first she thought Jake Sanders was dead, but it turned out he had been incredibly lucky. He owed his life to the FBI agent. She had the instincts and presence of mind to act under pressure and was able to stop the Russian from delivering a mortal blow.
Moynihan saw the Russian begin his charge when she was sixty feet away, and what she lacked in size, she more than made up for in speed. The years of passing batons on the track in college had served her well. She snatched up a stray metal pipe in mid-sprint and delivered a devastating blow to the back of the attacker’s head. By that point he had hit Sanders hard but was knocked out cold before he could finish the job.
Jake started to regain consciousness again, so she filled up a cardboard cup from the water cooler and knelt beside him on the floor.
The neglected trailer was small, and it was getting hotter by the minute. “Jake?” She poured a little water on his face to help him come around. “Jake?”
She didn’t know whether he could hear her. He finally managed to open his eyes. They were vacant. His mouth was the first thing to move, but he wasn’t capable of forming words. Sanders tried to speak again, but he could only groan.
“Jake, wake up.”
She shook him, and he groaned again.
“Come on!” she insisted. She dumped the rest of the water on his face, and his eyes snapped wide open.