Car Chase (3)
In Prague, at a hotel in the Vinohrady district.
Aleksei Sokolov of the SVR took a sip of coffee as he stared at his laptop screen.
His eyes were fixed on the live location-sharing window open there.
Twelve dots.
Half of them had already stopped in rural neighborhoods and out on the roads.
Only six were still moving slowly near a small city.
He picked up his phone and dialed again.
All he got was a ringing tone.
Got burned again.
He hung up and punched in the next number.
The same thing happened.
“Tch.”
At first, he had thought it was nothing more than a mishap.
The search had begun with a report that Tomas Kucera, one of the brokers under his control, had gone dark.
Then came the moment they found the bastard’s body in his car, abandoned by the roadside, a bullet through him.
From that instant on, Aleksei had sensed things were no longer moving along ordinary lines.
First, he gathered armed mercenaries as fast as he could. Everything he could get his hands on.
Twelve men had been scraped together that way—more than enough to bring back one kidnapped broker.
Enough to handle the kidnappers even if they happened to be armed.
And half of them are already gone.
The other side wasn’t some fly-by-night crew that had snatched the man up for ransom.
They had a clear objective, and they were professionals trained for it. People like him.
“Huuuh…”
Aleksei took off his glasses and pressed the bridge of his nose.
Honestly, losing a weapons broker like Kucera wasn’t fatal.
There were plenty of resources that could replace a role like his.
The problem was what lived in the bastard’s head.
The deals he’d handled, the flow of weapons, the money trail—and Aleksei’s own name tangled up in all of it.
If that information leaked through the wrong hands, the one left to deal with the mess would be him.
The report going up the chain is going to be filthy.
He turned his gaze back to the screen.
The method used to secure the target, the route of movement, the response to pursuit, even the way they’d headed for Germany.
Their overall pattern had the scent of something familiar.
Damn Americans.
He had bumped into operations like this in Europe more than once, so the style was all too recognizable.
The only difference was that this time, unlucky for him, the asset in question happened to be under his management.
What truly mattered was that this was their last chance.
They’d caught the tail by luck, but if they lost it here, it would truly slip beyond his reach.
He understood that very well.
Rrrring.
Then his phone rang.
When he answered, a welcome report came through the receiver.
They had found a vehicle with clear signs of a firefight against allied forces.
It had been near the small city on the outskirts of the last reported location.
“Track them. Get the others nearby to join up immediately.”
He ended the call and started contacting the remaining men at once.
The order could be reduced to a single sentence.
When you find them, kill them all.
After a moment’s thought, Aleksei pulled out a cigarette and put it between his lips.
The lighter flared and died in the dark.
Prague outside the window was still black.
***
“This way.”
The place Kucera pointed out was an old concrete building.
Under the weak light of a streetlamp, its walls looked stained and dusky.
Kucera circled around to the side of the building and fumbled behind an electrical box.
“Just a sec…”
The key rattled in his trembling hand.
The lock on the side door clicked free.
Creaaak.
When he opened the door, the stink of oil rushed out at once.
MacKinnon went in first, scanning the interior, and I followed after shoving Kucera ahead of me.
The building was much bigger on the inside than it had seemed.
It had the unmistakable feel of an old factory, with a ceiling at least five meters high.
Two vans and a medium-sized truck were parked on the dusty concrete floor.
Spacious.
Inside, metal shelves and boxes stacked on pallets filled the place to the brim.
Except for the center, the whole floor was chopped up into narrow lanes and tight corners where people could move through only single file.
I could see a small office with glass windows off to one side.
Kucera pointed at one of the vans and said, “That’s the one. The key’s usually in it.”
At that, MacKinnon opened the driver’s door and checked inside.
After confirming the vehicle could start, he nodded.
“We can get out in this.”
That was when I felt it: human presence.
Outside the building, approaching the side door.
Two of them. They were trying to muffle their footsteps, but to my ears they were crystal clear.
There are more coming from the front, too.
I could sense at least four on that side as well.
Apparently the enemy had received reinforcements in the short time we’d been here.
“Damn it, MacKinnon.”
I called him in a low voice.
MacKinnon had already drawn his gun, though the van’s engine was off.
“Sounds like they’re here. I heard them.”
He frowned at my words for only a second before nodding.
Apparently he decided I wasn’t the kind of guy who’d start talking nonsense for no reason.
MacKinnon’s eyes flicked toward the shutter, then back again.
“Breaking out with the vehicle’s going to be hard. Better to take them inside.”
He grabbed Kucera by the collar and dragged him toward the cargo area beside me.
Then he shoved him deep inside and said, “Stay in there and don’t move. If you don’t want to die.”
“Of course.”
Kucera nodded hurriedly.
Then MacKinnon looked at me.
“I’ll handle the front. You circle around and hit them from behind.”
I nodded and drew my Glock.
After racking the slide to check the chamber, I screwed on the suppressor.
MacKinnon took cover behind a stack of boxes, choosing a position that let him cover both the shutter and the side door.
I started moving into the darkness of the cargo section.
Narrow aisles between shelving and crates. As I slowed my breathing and lowered my center of gravity, my footsteps disappeared.
Creaaak—
At the same time, the sound of the side door opening spread through the building.
The men had started coming in.
***
First came the beams of flashlights sweeping across the interior.
Then, as a few of those lights moved deeper into the building—
Bang! Bang!
MacKinnon opened fire.
One of the men entering from the side door folded and dropped hard.
I saw the flashlight fall to the floor, its beam jittering wildly.
“Rozptyl se! (Spread out!)”
At the same time, harsh curses and gunfire erupted.
Bullets slammed into the concrete walls. All of their firepower focused on MacKinnon’s position.
Not yet.
I held my breath in the back of the cargo section and waited.
Every time shots rang out from MacKinnon’s direction, the enemy’s footsteps rushed that way.
Then I felt movement beyond the left aisle where I was hiding.
Someone was approaching along the shelving, with their flashlight off and their body pressed close to the rack.
A cautious bastard.
I waited for him behind the edge of the shelf.
His footsteps came closer, one step, then another.
Step, step.
The instant he passed beside me, I grabbed the arm holding the gun and twisted, pulling him in.
He reflexively pulled the trigger, but by then the muzzle was already pointing at the ceiling.
Bang!
Chunks of concrete rained down from above.
I snapped his arm, slammed him to the floor, then fired once into his chest and once into his head.
Paak!
The blunt, muted crack of the suppressor echoed around the area.
Another man reacted to the sound and came rushing over immediately.
His hurried footsteps and the flashlight beam he threw around swept the floor of the aisle.
“……”
I stayed perfectly still behind the shelf and didn’t move.
The man’s footsteps, his rough breathing, the changing angle of the flashlight—they sketched out his position for me.
Tap!
The second man drew near, then stopped in front of the body of his fallen comrade.
The instant the flashlight beam came close, I slipped out from behind the shelf and hooked his foot.
“Ghk!”
He lost his balance and fell forward, firing reflexively.
Bullets struck the metal shelf and sparked.
Ting!
I buried two rounds into the chest of the man who’d fallen flat.
Double tap.
Bang! Bang!
Gunfire was still echoing from the vehicle section as well.
At first from behind the crates, then from beside the truck—they were shifting positions as they shot.
A short scream was followed by the heavy sound of something collapsing.
Looks like that side’s fine.
I slipped out of the cargo area and took up position at the boundary with the vehicle section.
The end of the shelving. The corner where the back of the truck came into view.
Just as I stopped, I sensed movement from the other side.
Someone was coming around the corner.
Right next to me.
I pressed my back to the corner wall and waited.
Footsteps closed in, and then the barrel of the other man’s gun appeared first, crossing the edge of the corner. A submachine gun.
I waited just a little longer, then seized the hand that had come partway around and shoved it upward toward the ceiling.
The bastard reflexively squeezed the trigger.
Ratatatatata!
A burst chewed into the ceiling, showering concrete dust down on us.
Still holding his wrist, I yanked him around the corner and smashed him into the wall.
“Ugh.”
The submachine gun dropped from his hand.
I drove my knee into his solar plexus, and when his body folded, I smashed the back of his head.
Thwack!
I put a round into the back of the man collapsed on the floor.
Pow.
There was no time to breathe.
Another enemy reacted to the submachine gun fire and charged in while shooting this way.
Bang! Ting!
Rounds pounded into the truck’s body.
I threw myself behind the truck. My back hit the vehicle with a dull impact.
I could feel the man closing in while firing. Every time a bullet struck, the metal panel behind me rang out.
“Damn…”
The footsteps came closer, and then the shooting stopped for a split second.
The instant that happened, I stepped out from behind the truck and fired twice. The first round hit his shoulder, the second his chest.
He was driven backward, slamming into the shelving and dropping. I walked up and sent one more round into his head.
Pow.
At last, the gunfire stopped.
The garage was thick with the smell of gunpowder and concrete dust.
My ears rang.
My heart was still pounding like a mad thing.
Click.
I racked the Glock and checked the ammo.
Still had rounds left.
When I returned to the vehicle section, MacKinnon was coming out from behind the van.
He lowered the pistol he’d been aiming and gave me a short nod.
“You hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
MacKinnon started moving cautiously, checking the area.
His pace slowed for a moment in front of the corpses deeper inside the cargo section, and he looked over at me with a strange expression.
Then, after a flicker of thought, he said flatly, “Bring the car around. Let’s get out of here.”
***
The van we were riding in made it safely onto the highway.
The sun must have been coming up, because the sky was slowly brightening.
Orange light spread above the horizon, laying the first morning glow across the road.
“Huuuh…”
I set down the Glock I’d kept clenched in my hand all night.
Only then did the weight in my whole body begin to sag.
In the seat beside me, Kucera was muttering something in Czech under his breath.
MacKinnon, who’d had enough, glanced at the rearview mirror and said, “Say one more word and I’ll shove the towel back in your mouth.”
Kucera shut up at once.
Watching that, I snorted and sank deeper into the seat.
My shoulder was throbbing where I’d taken a bad hit in the middle of the fight.
Still, I’m in pretty decent shape this time.
Thinking that, I cracked the window open a little.
The cold winter air brushed my face from outside.
As the sweat cooled, goosebumps rose over my skin, but it felt good.
…Come to think of it, what day is it?
I’d left the safe house last night, but it felt like several days had passed.
Counting for a moment, I realized today was December 25.
It was Christmas Day.
“...Ha.”
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
What a hell of a Christmas I’d had.
“MacKinnon.”
For some reason, I was in a pretty good mood, so I called out to him in the front.
He answered without turning his head.
“What.”
“Merry Christmas.”
There was a brief silence.
MacKinnon looked at me like I was an idiot, then took out a cigarette and put it between his lips.
“Crazy bastard.”
Then, lighting it, he added as if it were an afterthought,
The cigarette smoke drifted out through the open window.
“Yeah. Merry fucking Christmas.”
I looked out the window.
Snow-dusted fields rolled by, and morning sunlight spread across the white expanse.
Seeing that, something suddenly came back to me.
Ah, the Christmas market.
Hanna’s face floated up in my mind, the way she’d asked me to go with her.
And Christmas had passed after all.
No idea.
The fields kept sliding past outside the glass.
I leaned my head against the seat and closed my eyes.