Chapter Twenty
The surveillance van was cramped, hot, and smelled like stale coffee, sweat and boredom.Bryn shifted in his seat next to an FBI agent, who’d introduced herself as Beth, and was watching a bank of monitors showing feeds from in and around the Cathedral of the Holy Cross.
New England’s largest Catholic cathedral dominated the corner of Washington and Malden in the South End of Boston, its towering Gothic Revival spires dramatic against the gray sky.The massive stone structure, with its pointed arches and intricate rose windows, seemed rock solid to Bryn.He didn’t like that the building might witness violence.Though it’s probably seen its fair share in almost one hundred and fifty years.Emmett would know.
“Movement on the east side,” an FBI agent’s voice crackled through the van’s radio from her position across the street.“Three vehicles, tinted windows.”
Bryn leaned forward, studying the screen.The images were grainy but he could make out a male driver in the lead van.“That has to be Russo’s men.They aren’t even trying to be subtle, are they?”
“No, they aren’t,” Beth agreed.
“Hold positions,” came the response from Special Agent Bell.“All units, confirm readiness.”
The teams sounded off in rapid succession and Bryn clenched a fist, his stomach knotting.Things were getting real.Gunnar, crouched beside him in the van, checked his weapon for the third time in five minutes.He was positioned between Bryn and the door.It was a tight space for his big frame.“I don’t like this.We’re too exposed.”He wrinkled his nose.“Also, it stinks in here.”
Beth chuckled.
“We’re a hundred yards away from the action,” Bryn reminded him.“I’m as safe as I’m going to get.This van is supposed to blend in, isn’t it?”
“Famous last words.Any seasoned criminal can spot a surveillance van from a mile off.There are too many civilians around.Bell will have to let Russo’s boys go into the cathedral before he moves in or innocent people could get hurt.”
“It’s a catch-22, isn’t it,” Bryn commented.“Clear the bystanders and Bell shows his hand.Let Russo move his men in and he risks a bloodbath in the cathedral.”
“The Kozlovs aren’t defenseless,” Gunnar said.“They won’t be dropping their weaponry in the collection plate.”
“And somehow, that’s not reassuring.”
On the monitors, the cathedral’s internal CCTV showed that the memorial service was underway.The Kozlov family and their associates had gathered in impressive numbers—at least sixty people were seated in wooden pews beneath the vaulted roof.Stained glass windows cast colored light across the assembled, black-clad group.The altar was adorned with flowers and photographs of Pavel Kozlov.
“It looks so peaceful and I’m starting to feel like a voyeur.Where’s Russo?”Bryn asked, scanning the feeds.“Malavita said he’d be close enough to watch.”
“The observation team tracked him going into the building across the street,” Beth said.“Third floor, northeast corner.We’ve got eyes on the windows up there but there aren’t any cameras.There’s a spotter on another building watching him the old-fashioned way, with binoculars.”
“No drones?”Gunnar asked.
“It would have to hover outside the window and besides, you think we have that kind of budget?”
“I’ll bet Russo’s enjoying this,” Bryn said in disgust.“This is entertainment for him.He must know we’re here by now but he won’t care.People are objects to him.Pieces on a chess board ready to be sacrificed.”
“Targets are moving.All units, prepare for…” Bell’s communication cut off in a burst of static as men poured from the three vans.
“Jesus,” Beth breathed.“Look at them move.”
“If we didn’t know better, they could be military special forces,” Bryn said.Russo’s men were dressed in black tactical gear and carried automatic weapons.They ran at high speed, fluid and smooth.
“He really has created super-soldiers,” Gunnar said.“Apex predators.I should be out there.”
“Or you could avoid getting unalived by staying in here with me and Beth.”
The first soldier hit the cathedral’s heavy wooden doors like a battering ram, splintering the wood with a single strike.The others poured through the breach and the memorial service erupted into chaos.Bryn watched the feeds in horrified fascination.
“All teams move in,” Bell’s voice crackled through the radio.
One of the enhanced soldiers grabbed a man twice his size and threw him across the cathedral’s center aisle like a rag doll, his body crashing into the wooden pews.Another moved in a blur between the massive stone columns, taking down three armed Kozlov men before they could get off a shot.
“This is going to be a massacre,” Bryn said.
“Fire at will,” Bell’s voice was tight with tension.“I repeat, fire at will.”
