The Sniper and the Wolf

5

Though Sasha Kovalenko was an ethnic Chechen, he too was a member of the Spetsnaz Spetsgruppa A, and he was no stranger to violent combat. His years as a sniper in the Chechen wars had left him with a frazzled nervous system and a supernatural ability to sense danger over long distance. It was this sixth sense that had allowed him to pull the trigger on Gil in the rail yard a split second before being shot himself.

When the French gendarmes had first appeared in the rail yard, he’d concluded that Agent Lerher must have betrayed their cause. This sent him into a rage, causing him to shoot down as many of the encroaching French as he dared before leaving for the agreed-upon rally point where he was to rendezvous with Yeshevsky. But owing to trouble avoiding the police en route to the apartment, he had not arrived until a full minute after Gil had cleared the scene.

The sight of his friend Yeshevsky’s body on the floor had enraged him further, but seeing Lerher’s body had given him pause to reconsider his assessment of a CIA double cross. There were too many possible scenarios to bother speculating, but one thing was for sure: he and his team needed to tie up loose ends and find a place to lie low until they could figure out what was going on.

“I’m taking three men with me to Malta,” Kovalenko said, coming out of the bathroom and tossing his cellular onto the hotel bed. “Use the French credit cards to buy the plane tickets. The ones we were given by the CIA may be compromised.”

“Why Malta?” asked his second-in-command, Eli Vitsin. “It’s an island. You could be trapped there.”

Kovalenko took him by the shoulder. He was a tall, muscular man with greenish eyes and black hair. Vitsin was a head shorter, dark complexioned with a thick mustache. “We can’t risk being backtracked. Someone told the French we were in that warehouse. There’s no way to guess how soon they were on to us, but if Yeshevsky was spotted in Athens or seen coming ashore in Marseille, the Palinouros could be their next target. We can’t allow the crew to be questioned — especially Miller, the CIA captain.”

“Moscow has sent Dragunov to track us down,” Vitsin warned. “He’s been seen at the embassy in Paris, and where he goes, his men are sure to follow. We need to get back home to our mountains, where it’s safe.”

“Don’t worry about Dragunov,” Kovalenko said, stepping into the kitchenette. “I can handle him. The trouble is the CIA. Whoever killed Yeshevsky also killed Lerher, and that could mean that Lerher’s people have been found out. If that’s happened, we’re entirely on our own, so we have to wait to see if they make contact before we can head home. In the meantime, I’m going to Malta.”

Kovalenko took a loaf of bread and some lunch meat from the refrigerator and stood in the kitchenette eating a sandwich while Vitsin sat at the computer scheduling the Malta flight for Kovalenko and three other Spetsnaz operators.

“You’re sure about this, Sasha?” Vitsin closed the laptop and pushed it aside. “Moscow may have submitted our photos to Interpol. You could be taken into custody at the airport.”

Kovalenko shook his head. “Moscow wants us for themselves. They can’t risk us telling what we know to anyone else. That’s why they’ve sent Dragunov: to make sure we don’t talk to anyone — ever.” He took a bottle of vodka from the freezer and unscrewed the lid, taking a drink and passing the bottle to Vitsin. “After we’ve taken care of the crew of the Palinouros, we’ll lay a trap for Dragunov somewhere; lure him in for the kill.”

“Bad idea.” Vitsin took a pull from the bottle and set it down on the table, shaking his head. “He’ll absolutely expect a trap.”

“Of course he will,” Kovalenko said, capping the bottle and putting it back in the freezer. “That’s why it’s going to work. He’s arrogant enough to think he can outsmart me.”

They stood in silence for a while, each lost in his own thoughts, until Vitsin said at last, “Who was the sniper on the railcar? He wasn’t French.”

Kovalenko looked at him, nodding pensively. “I was just thinking the same thing.”