Normally, the hacker wouldn’t have been permitted to connect to the Internet, but Sokov had been forced to improvise by transferring the files over the wire, since driving them via courier this time hadn’t been an option. Another thick waft of cigarette smoke interrupted his concentration, and this time it caused his eyes to water. He blinked several times in frustration from the smoke building up in the car, and could sense his discomfort was a form of amusement for his companion. All he wanted was for the files to finish copying so he could get the hell out of there.
Chapter 145
The five Bratva men emerged from the small shed and piled into a Ford pickup truck parked outside. The vehicle wasn’t in line with Pavel Kozlov’s usual tastes, but that was the point. A battered old truck wouldn’t draw attention and would be a discreet getaway option if he ever needed one. The truck was kept in good working order, so the engine fired up immediately. He was in excruciating pain but still managed to remain stoic.
“Pavel, we need to blow the server room,” Sokov said nervously in Russian.
Kozlov turned to him and winced with a nod. He pulled his phone out and began to thumb through the display. “You are certain we have everything we need at the other location?” The Russian wanted absolute confirmation before they blew away nearly two years of work.
Sokov’s voice was confident. “Yes, the necessary files have been copied to another location. Everything will be ready, and there will be no time for the Americans to react.”
“You’re sure of this?” Kozlov questioned further. The pain from his wound reflected in his voice. “The hackers that got away, they cannot stop this?”
“No, the hackers do not know enough to stop us. The operation will go as planned. They are collecting the necessary files as we speak.”
Kozlov closed his eyes and exhaled. “As we speak?”
Sokov shrunk in the seat. “Yes, I am awaiting confirmation.”
Kozlov remained silent, with a scornful look on his face. Earlier, Sokov had overstated what had been done, and it was frustrating for the Bratva leader that to him, any work in progress was considered to be as good as done. Minor details were what led to failure.
“But we will wait to hear from Virginia first,” Sokov said, interrupting Kozlov’s thoughts. “Before we blow the place.”
Sokov pulled up the video-camera feed for the server room on his phone. Kozlov felt the hacker prodding his arm with his elbow before turning the display so the Bratva leader could see it.
Kozlov shifted his eyes to the screen, first with lack of interest and annoyance, but it quickly turned to hatred as The American and another operative came into view.
“That’s the server room?” he asked abruptly.
“Yes,” Sokov said. “We can take care of two things at once.” The pickup truck began to ease forward, and he was startled when his phone rang.
Kozlov looked over at Sokov and nodded his approval to answer, hopeful it would be good news.
“’Allo?” Sokov answered. He listened for a moment and flashed Kozlov a smile. “Very good.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “Make sure you shred the files on the server,” he insisted.
It wasn’t good enough for the hacker to simply delete the files. They needed to make sure that the sectors on the hard disk wouldn’t have remnants from which a forensic specialist could recreate them. Sokov needed him to be thorough, and execute a hacker’s version of wiping away fingerprints.
Sokov gave Pavel Kozlov an approving nod, and the Bratva leader punched at the display on his phone. Seconds later they saw a flash from the massive explosion just before they heard it.
Kozlov closed his eyes, tilted his head back and took a deep breath. His small victory brought a cautious smile.
Chapter 146
The ringing sound dominated his ears. Throaty shook his head, trying to wipe the cobwebs from the massive concussion. He pulled his shirt over his nose and buried his eyes into his sleeve trying to blink out the darkness. The ringing eventually gave way to a muted voice in the background.
“What the hell was that, over?” Heckler repeated.
Throaty listened intently, still trying to regain his senses.
“The compound has men charging out of the exits like rats from a sinking ship,” Heckler continued, his concern evident. “Poor Man, do you see anything on the cameras, over?”
“Uh, nothing on the feed here, Heckler, over,” he responded. There was a measure of fear in his voice from seeing that the helmet cams were now ominously blank.
“Throaty, Caretaker, do you read, over?” Jack Turner repeated. “I see a Ford pickup headed for the exit. Throaty, Caretaker, do you read, over?”
Throaty coughed and was slowly starting to come around. He heard the voices but still couldn’t process the words.
There was a long, nervous silence over the radio.
“Heckler, this is Poor Man. We’re still not getting a feed from the helmet cams, over,” Millar chimed in anxiously.
“Copy that, Poor Man. I just sent two rounds into the vehicle, but it managed to crash out through the gate, over,” Heckler said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“Heckler,” Throaty finally coughed, his voice even harsher than normal. “I can’t see a damn thing down here.” He continued to cough violently as he brought his sleeve up to filter the dust and smoke from his nose. The ringing in his ears had just started to settle down. He had cranked up the volume on his radio but was still having difficulty understanding what was being said. “It’s tough to breathe. I’m trying to make my way to the blast so I can check on the others, over.” The dust had settled enough for him to see the outline of Victoria Eden sitting on the floor. “Stay here,” he said.
“Okay,” she responded before launching into an uncontrollable cough.
The violinist had already pulled her shirt up over her nose, but now she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms tightly around her knees.
“Do you know how to use this?” Throaty asked as he held out his pistol, inching closer to see her face more clearly. When she opened her eyes and nodded, he handed it to her and said, “The safety is off. All you need to do is squeeze the trigger.” He looked to Jake Sanders and Rudy Pagano. “Can you keep an eye on her?”
“Rudy can stay with her,” Sanders said. “I’ll give you a hand. There’s two of them.”
Throaty’s mind digested Sanders’s comment, and it conveyed a sobering fact. He would indeed need help with carrying the bodies. His hearing was still unreliable with the ringing, so his head was on a swivel as he and Sanders crept forward, their weapons ready to fire.
“What’s going on down there, over?” Heckler asked impatiently.
“Something big blew. I think it was the server room,” Throaty said. His tone turned grim. “Finger and Caretaker were in there. I don’t think they could have made it out.”
“Don’t use the front door,” he said, the gravity of the loss weighing on his words. “The Tangos have RVed there, over.”
“Roger that,” Throaty replied. “I’ll check with you on an exit and head straight to the ERV once we’re sorted.” His sight was improving as more dust settled. The operative stumbled over a body and quickly caught his balance on the wall. “It’s not looking good down here, over.”
Chapter 147
Senator Maximillian Soller’s mood continued to swing between foul, angry, and grim as he relived recent events. He had continued to drink, which was having an effect on his concentration and ability to reason. The lights in his office were now turned on as he watched nothing in particular on the flat-screen television bolted to the wall. He had closed his eyes to take another swig of scotch when the sudden ring of his cell phone unsteadied his hand.