The Carnival Master

8.

They had been in the lodge for three hours. They had not allowed themselves a light, nor the comfort of food or drink.

‘I don’t get it,’ said Buslenko. ‘Why don’t they just get it over with? There’s only four of us in here. We’re kilometres away from civilisation. They could finish us off with silenced fire and no one would be any the wiser. Where are they?’

Stoyan nodded. ‘It doesn’t make sense. And they’ve covered their tracks pretty well.’ He peered out of the window into the moonlight. ‘Maybe they’re waiting for us to try to get out.’

Belotserkovsky suddenly looked agitated. ‘Maybe there’s no one out there,’ he said at last. ‘Maybe it’s the enemy within we should be worrying about.’

‘What are you talking about?’ said Buslenko.

‘Maybe there’s no Vitrenko force out there. Maybe we’re dealing with an infiltrator.’

‘That’s crap,’ said Stoyan, but he looked uneasy.

‘Taras is right that only his friend knew about this location,’ said Belotserkovsky. ‘That is outside all of us.’ He looked at Olga Sarapenko. ‘She’s not one of us. How do we know she isn’t in Vitrenko’s pay?’

‘That’s bullshit,’ said Buslenko.

‘No… no, wait a minute,’ said Stoyan. ‘ She was outside immediately before Vorobyeva was killed.’

Buslenko’s face darkened. ‘Enough! Are you trying to tell me that she,’ he indicated Olga with a nod of his head, ‘was able to sneak up on the best personal security specialist I’ve ever worked with? No offence, Captain Sarapenko.’

‘None taken,’ she said. ‘Even I know my limits. But maybe this is why they haven’t finished us off. Maybe they’re waiting for us to come apart at the seams.’

‘Good point.’ Buslenko’s expression suggested that he had made a decision. He looked at his watch. ‘It’ll be light in two hours. I want us out of the woods by then. Get kitted up. We’re going for a walk.’

‘Stoyan, you take point.’ Buslenko looked up at the sky. The moon was low, caressing the bristling tip of the forest. He found himself blessing the few clouds that had drifted in from the west. ‘Captain Sarapenko, I take it you know how to use one of these…’ He tossed a Vepr assault rifle to her.

‘I can handle it.’

Buslenko pointed to the river to the left of the hunting lodge. ‘Same as before – we use the bank as cover. Keep low and keep together. If we’re going to encounter opposition, it’ll come from the forest, where there’s more cover. They’ll have to expose themselves to attack. The one thing we have to watch out for is grenades. Or they’ve maybe predicted our route and set booby traps. Watch out for tripwires.’

Buslenko gave Stoyan a gestured countdown. On one, Stoyan rushed out of the lodge, across the drive and down the river bank. He ran crouched low but fast. Buslenko waited. No gunfire. Stoyan indicated the all-clear and Buslenko gave Olga Sarapenko the order to cross, then Belotserkovsky. Still no attack.

It didn’t make sense. Now would have been the time to pick them off. It seemed as if they were running from ghosts. Maybe Belotserkovsky had a point. Maybe it was one of them. But there was no one in the remaining group that he could have imagined taking out Vorobyeva with such ease. Certainly not the woman.

Buslenko scoured the fringe of the woods with the night-vision scope he had attached to his Vepr. Finally, he bolted across the snow-encrusted track and down the river bank.