Quantum

63

Out of the west, a matte gray Mil Mi-38 helicopter raced over Moscow’s outer periphery. It roared over the VDNKh, as the All-Russian Exhibition Center was known, and crossed Prospekt Mira. The pilot changed the pitch on the Mil’s six rotating blades, adjusted the throttle on the twin TVD-300 turboshaft engines, and brought the ship into a thundering hover over the VIO FinProm building’s flat roof. Ballast aggregate flew out in all directions, propelled by the downward thrust of the helicopter, and hailed onto the ground below.

The royal blue flag that so proudly bore Orlov’s golden double eagle snapped crazily in the rotors’ gale-force blast; the fabric around the flag’s eyelets quickly tore free, and the shredded emblem fell into the street.

As soon as the Mil parked itself over the building, doors on both sides of the craft slid open and armed men in black ninja suits rappelled down onto the roof. The blue-and-white cars of the Moscow Militsia suddenly appeared, choking off Prospekt Mira and all secondary streets around Orlov’s building. Two large black trucks pulled up, one at each end of the long slab of a building, and disgorged two additional elements of the Alpha assault force. Three coordinated, well-armed teams of fifteen men poured into the building, routing Orlov’s perimeter security as they pressed their attack.

Orlov’s office reverberated with a deep rumbling like a continuous explosion of thunder.

‘Victor!’ Zoshchenko screamed, afraid.

‘Dmitri,’ Orlov shouted over the noise, ‘what is going on?’

‘Government forces are attacking the building, Victor Ivanovich,’ Leskov replied, piecing together the jumble of reports flooding through his earpiece. ‘My men are moving into defensive positions. You should evacuate.’

Of all the people in the office, only Cooper seemed unaffected by the mounting chaos. The aging spy leaned back into the sofa and folded his hands over his stomach.

‘I’d surrender if I were you,’ Cooper said. ‘It’s your best chance of staying alive.’

Orlov turned and saw Cooper sitting as serenely as a Buddha. Sporadic bursts of gunfire could now be heard.

‘You are responsible for this!’ Orlov shouted.

‘I can’t take all the credit. You have a lot of very powerful enemies.’

Pistol in hand, Leskov ran to Orlov. ‘You must leave, immediately.’

‘Give me that,’ Orlov barked as he took the pistol from Leskov’s hand.

Without a second’s hesitation, Orlov raised the Glock and fired three shots into Cooper’s chest.

Cooper slumped back on the sofa. Blood poured out of his chest with each beat of his heart. Though pained, Cooper managed to lock eyes with Orlov.

‘Fuck your mother, Victor Ivanovich,’ Cooper said defiantly, his voice beginning to fail. ‘You’re finished.’

Orlov shuddered at the pronouncement but said nothing. An explosion sent tremors through the building. Zoshchenko ran up to Orlov and grasped his shoulders.

‘Victor, they’re going to kill us!’ Zoshchenko screamed. ‘We have to surrender! You have money; you can make a deal to save us!’

Orlov looked into Zoshchenko’s teary eyes with disgust, then squeezed the Glock’s trigger. Zoshchenko staggered back, and he fired again into her chest — she collapsed onto the floor. Orlov handed the pistol back to Leskov.

‘How long can your men hold the building?’

‘Ten, maybe fifteen minutes.’

‘Long enough. Let’s go,’ Orlov said, leading the way out through the office’s private exit.

Seven Alphas eliminated the two men guarding the main hallway and then entered Orlov’s executive suite. They found Cooper slumped on the couch and Zoshchenko lying on the floor.

‘Corpsman!’ one of the Alphas called out.

The corpsman placed two fingers on Cooper’s neck.

‘This one’s dead.’

He then moved over to the woman.

‘Pulse is weak and she’s lost a lot of blood, but she’s still alive.’