Once Flynn dropped off the seeds, three armed guards ambushed him. Nothing beforehand had suggested any potential problems. But it was a disaster. Two aid workers got shot before Flynn mitigated the situation by immobilizing two of the attackers and shooting the other in the head. Fortunately, the situation proved to be invaluable as he gained more intel on the camp than he would’ve ever received from the farmer. Less than two hours of torture techniques and Flynn learned all he needed to know from the captive terrorists. He even released them to warn the camp of an impending strike, but it was a wasted effort. A drone strike annihilated the camp less than five minutes after Flynn called it in.
You know what you know — and then you find out some more. All Flynn knew at this point was that he had to immobilize a half-dozen guards before reaching the Kuklovod’s command center and taking it off-line. What he didn’t know was how Lexie would figure into the equation. Would she muddle his plan? Turn on him? Prove to be an ally? Nothing was for certain at this point. So he stuck to the plan. You know what you know.
He slogged through a slew of tributaries snaking off from the Ob River with only the dusky sky to light his way. Flynn turned on his lantern and proceeded forward. It wasn’t long before he reached a clearing and identified the scattered lights as the Kuklovod’s compound. He switched off his lantern and moved cautiously toward the guarded facility, using the tree line as a shield.
Flynn checked his watch. Only two hours remained until his deadline to inform Osborne of his successful mission — if was indeed successful. Despite the time crunch, Flynn refused to botch the mission by trying to play cowboy. His own life depended on his ability to correctly assess the situation before charging in — and this wasn’t an easy task. For the next ten minutes, he observed the repetitive movements of the guards. They all smoked, as if it was the only way to survive the monotony of protecting the perimeter of a building nestled deep in the Urals. It was surely an uneventful assignment. But not tonight.
In an effort to penetrate the building as stealthily as possible, Flynn chose to use his knife. He tossed a rock in the woods to turn the guard’s attention in the opposite direction before sneaking up behind him and slitting his throat. He dragged his body into the woods and rolled it behind a log. But not before he stole the guard’s earpiece so he could pick up the impending chatter that would explode if his presence was realized.
Flynn eliminated the second guard moments later by slipping up behind him and snatching his cigarette. When the confused guard turned around, Flynn stabbed him in the throat while covering the man’s mouth. He moved this guard’s body into the woods as well before approaching his most difficult target — the guard tower.
Hidden in the shadows of the tree line, Flynn watched the rhythms of the guard tower’s spotlight. At first glance, it appeared to move haphazardly, but it didn’t take Flynn long to see that the chaotic pattern was nothing close to chaotic. It moved systematically across the compound perimeter — and Flynn recognized his opportunity to strike.
Quietly climbing the tower, Flynn timed his lurch perfectly. He lunged off the top step with his knife and landed it into the back of the oblivious guard. The pattern took a short hiatus before Flynn took control of the spotlight and kept the rhythm going. Nobody on the inside suspected a thing, as no squawking blared from his radio. All was quiet, but not for long.
Flynn leapt over the guard tower and scurried down the inside of the perimeter fence. He went to the door his intel told him was the most lax when it came to guard presence. Using the security decryption device Osborne gave him, Flynn attached it to the keypad and waited while it found the right combination to gain entry. It didn’t take long before Flynn was in the building.
He crept down the dimly lit hall. It was empty. Not a soul in sight. He waited for a few seconds to see if he could detect any noise at all, any potential presence of guards. Nothing. And nothing on the radio either.
This is going to be easier than I thought. Flynn turned the corner and jumped back. He saw a guard sitting outside an unidentified room. Then Flynn poked his head around the corner again only to realize the guard was asleep. He ripped open his pack and pulled out a handkerchief and some chloroform. He slipped up to the guard and shoved it forcefully under his nose. The man barely flinched, remaining in his dozed position — head down, feet stretched out in front of him.
Flynn peered inside the door but didn’t see his target. He continued down the hall a few more feet before he heard a familiar voice.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Flynn spun around. Pointing a gun at him from twenty feet away was Ivan.
CHAPTER 57
Ninety minutes. Come on, Flynn. Give me a call.
Osborne stared at the phone on his desk. It didn’t blink or buzz or ring. He wanted to rip it out of the wall and scream. Just destroy something, anything. The waiting was killing him. It wasn’t like he had never been through something like this before with Flynn.
During a reconnaissance mission to Malaysia, Flynn got made by a Chinese spy who was selling U.S. government secrets. The directive was simple: find out who was buying the secrets. But Flynn wasn’t careful enough. Two members of the Chinese spy’s security detail apprehended Flynn and held him for the duration of the supposed time of the transaction. They blindfolded him and threw him in a holding cell near the location of the meet. For three days, Osborne waited. Not a word from Flynn. Osborne feared his best operative died somehow. Three days was an eternity in the world of espionage. Plans could be hatched, divulged, set into motion and squashed during that time. Yet, nothing from Flynn.
Finally, Flynn had called Osborne, letting him know that he was all right. His mission was a failure — sort of. He didn’t get the information he came for, but the Chinese spy and his associates were all murdered. The buyer only performed a cursory search of the building, which gave Flynn the break he needed to remain hidden. He eventually worked himself free and escaped to view the carnage.
Osborne knew it was far too early to give up on Flynn now, but this situation was different. He could spend time handwringing over the possible death of a mission agent — and it was justified, yet part of the job. Presiding over a mission that could determine the fate of millions and set into motion a world war was beyond Osborne’s scope of familiarity. This new territory set him on edge. An acting president hell-bent on blowing up half of Russia. An extremist group determined to start a world war. And a former operative on his first mission in years to keep it all from happening. It was a recipe for angst on the highest level.
Osborne’s phone rang. It was Sandford.
“Where are we at? I’ve got missiles being loaded as we speak.”
“Nothing yet, sir. But we’ve still got ninety more minutes. Please be patient.” Osborne was telling Sandford that as much as he was telling himself.
“We’ve been far too patient with these people. It’s time to take action.”
“Just hold off, please, sir.”
“Ninety minutes — then we’re firing the missiles.”
Sandford hung up.
Osborne stared at the clock. He only had eighty-nine minutes now.
CHAPTER 58
Flynn laid down his Glock 26 and stared at the familiar figure aiming a gun at him down the dimly lit hallway. Less than forty-eight hours ago, the two men fought in Flynn’s home — and Flynn let him live. Now they stood on Ivan’s turf, half a world away. Flynn determined he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.