“What you’re really saying is that you want us to save you the trouble of an international incident started by your rogue agent.”
“Will you do it?”
Tyler looked from the pistol to Grant. “What do you say?”
He could see that Grant was thinking the same thing. The odds were that she was sharing so much information with them because she was planning to get rid of them right after she did away with Colchev. Still, they had little choice, and if a bomb that size exploded, it could kill everyone within a quarter-mile, including Jess and Fay where they were parked.
Grant nodded and regarded Bedova with a dead-eyed gaze. “I couldn’t be more enthusiastic about assisting you.”
“Good,” she said, ignoring his sarcasm. “If you try to get away, I will shoot you both and then kill your friends waiting for you in the Jeep.”
Tyler mirrored her unflinching stare. “We’re not going anywhere.” Yet.
“The plan is that we wait for Colchev to come out of the van. As he’s entering the building, my two men on the other side of the warehouse will move in. We won’t kill him until we’re sure that there’s no danger of someone detonating the bomb. We think it’s in one of the four trucks backed up to the warehouse.”
“What if he’s divided the explosives among the four trucks?”
“Then you’ll have to assess all four and tell me if you can disable them.”
“And if we can’t?”
“Then we’ll call the police,” is what Bedova said, but Tyler didn’t think for a second that she actually would.
“All right,” Tyler said, furiously trying to think of a way out of their predicament. For now, going along with her was the only choice. “Lead the way. It’s your party.”
Bedova looked at him, perplexed. She obviously didn’t understand the idiom, but let it go. She tilted her head. Tyler guessed that she was listening to an earpiece hidden by her hair.
“He’s on the move,” she said. “It’s time. Stay behind me.”
With no one in sight, Bedova sprinted toward the warehouse. Tyler ran crouched next to Grant, with Bedova’s two men bringing up the rear. In the Army when he’d done this kind of thing, Tyler usually had a helmet, body armor, and M4 assault rifle, so now he felt practically naked. By the way Grant clenched his fists, Tyler could tell that his friend also missed the heft of a weapon.
They reached the door of the warehouse. Tyler could hear the shouts of men working inside. Bedova picked the lock and pulled the door ajar. She paused as she scanned the interior, then nodded. They all kept low as they crept inside.
Now Tyler saw why Bedova had chosen this entry. This door must have served as the entrance to the warehouse office. Its interior wasn’t visible from the main warehouse floor.
She kept below the level of the windows and went to the open door on the other side of the room. Tyler and Grant followed. Without speaking she pointed toward the front of the warehouse.
Tyler could see into the cargo area of the closest trailer. The shadows hid most of the contents, but five feet inside he could barely make out four oil drums with wires leading from them.
They’d found their bomb.
With a series of hand gestures, Bedova indicated for one of her men to take Tyler and Grant over to the trailer and keep an eye on them while they examined the device. At the same time, she’d make her assault.
She and the first man dashed out of the office. Tyler and Grant crabbed over to the trailer with the operative assigned to watch them. The two of them entered the trailer while the Russian stayed nearby and kept a lookout.
Tyler’s eyes were still adjusting to the dark as he moved past the barrels. He stopped when his foot bumped into something pliant.
Grant pointed behind one of the drums. A body. Tyler recognized the face from a photo at the research center. It was Professor Stevens. Another limp figure lay next to him. He didn’t recognize the man, but it had to be the student, Milo Beech.
Tyler knelt and felt for a pulse. They were both alive. He lightly slapped Stevens’ face, but the professor didn’t move. Same for Beech. Tyler put two hands together at the side of his head to indicate to Grant that they were out cold, probably drugged.
Now that his eyes had adjusted, Tyler could see the truck’s interior past the drums. Stacked floor-to-ceiling were twenty-five-pound bags full of pink ANFO pellets. Enough space to hold all forty tons of it.
Grant examined the wires from behind one of the barrels so he wouldn’t block the dim light coming from the warehouse.
“Doesn’t look like it’s booby-trapped,” he whispered. “But I don’t see a timer or receiver for a radio-controlled detonation.”
“When Bedova’s got the place secured, we can—”
Shouts inside the warehouse interrupted Tyler. The man who’d been guarding them took cover behind a forklift. Tyler and Grant edged out the rear of the trailer where Tyler spied Bedova and the rest of her men surrounded by Colchev’s operatives.
She spoke to Colchev in soothing Russian that suggested a history between them. Colchev shook his head and answered in English.
“Remember what my note said, Nadia?”
Bedova nodded, but she didn’t lower her gun. “I can’t let you do this, Vladimir.”
“And I can’t let you leave.”
“You can’t go back to Russia. Not ever.”
Colchev slowly shook his head. “In four days they will welcome me with open arms after they see what I’ve achieved.”
The operative behind the forklift, the last of Bedova’s men still hidden, stood to shoot, but one of Colchev’s operatives spotted him and hit him with a three-round burst to the chest. The man fell backward, his finger on the trigger of his weapon. Automatic fire spewed toward the ceiling, the suppressor muting the shots so that they weren’t much louder than the pings of the bullet impacts.
In response silenced gunfire erupted from every direction. Bedova’s team scrambled for cover, blasting away as they ran, but they were caught in a crossfire. Two of Colchev’s men had perfect sightlines on her team and cut down their targets with lethal precision. Within seconds, Bedova’s three other men were dead.
Bedova showed no fear as she returned fire, dropping to one knee and taking aim at Colchev in a textbook stance. She got off three rounds, but Colchev was too quick. He rolled to the side as bullets pinged off the metal walls behind him. He came to rest in a prone position and pulled his trigger just once. Bedova’s head snapped backward, and she crumpled to the floor.
“Cease fire!” Colchev shouted. He got to his feet and walked over to Bedova’s corpse, where he knelt beside her, softly caressing her hair. Tyler saw no satisfaction, only remorse.
Tyler was about to suggest they make a break for it when Colchev stood and started to turn toward the open trailer. Tyler and Grant scrambled behind the barrels before they were spotted.
“Close everything up and take the bodies into the office,” Colchev said. “We are leaving now.”
Footsteps pounded toward the trailer, and Tyler and Grant tried to make themselves as small as possible. Any attempt at escape would be suicidal.
Still, the alternative wasn’t much better. The trailer door was slammed shut and latched from the outside, leaving Tyler and Grant in total blackness with an 80,000-pound bomb.
EIGHTEEN
Jess checked her phone again to make sure it was getting a signal. Tyler still hadn’t called. She wasn’t worried just yet, but she thought it shouldn’t have taken this long to do his reconnaissance.