He winced at the swiftness of their reaction. He imagined they must be Russian special forces, the elite of the elite. He waited two breaths, but the lights never flicked back on. They must have come with night-vision gear.
Two could play at that game.
He pulled goggles over his eyes and tapped a button. The world revealed itself in shades of gray and green. He turned his gaze away and blind-fired a burst of three rounds. The slight muzzle flares stung, amplified through the night-vision gear. The flashes, confined inside the small room, were like camera bulbs exploding.
As he had meant them to be.
He needed to lure as many of the soldiers as he could into this maze, to get them to ignore the waterfall. He rolled into a crouch, dropped through a hole in the floor, and exited the home. He rushed away from where he had been roosted.
He had no way of knowing the number who would enter this labyrinth, but he had to be prepared.
And not just me.
He tapped another button on his goggles. The view through his lenses changed. In the outside corner of each eye, two video feeds played. One from Marco’s vest-mounted camera. The other from Kane’s. Kowalski had hauled in all of Tucker’s customized gear when he had arrived with Kane and the rescue team in Severodvinsk.
Tucker touched his throat mike. His comm gear operated on dual band and was currently switched to UHF, which worked decentlyunderground, as long as the trio kept close. With the channel open between his dogs, he let them know the plan.
“Boys, let’s go hunting.”
5:30P.M.
Turov crouched next to Lieutenant Bragin. After losing one of his men, thespetsnazleader’s bloodlust was up. The man coordinated with his second-in-command. The other nine soldiers had quickly vanished into shelters along the edges of the stone city. They had moved swiftly. Even outfitted with night-vision gear, Turov had lost sight of them almost immediately.
Bragin had forced Turov into a small low-roofed abode, along with Sychkin and Yerik. Outside, Valya and Nadira had posted themselves to the left of the doorway. Anotherspetsnazsoldier was down on a knee to the right.
Turov stared up.
On the ice cap, the initial barrage to secure the landing site had quieted into occasional short bursts. As expected, the commercial icebreaker was ill-equipped to withstand a well-armed force. Lieutenant Osin’s orders were to keep the crew cowed and on board the ship until theLyakhovcould finish repairs and sail here.
To the side, Bragin snapped quick orders, preparing to dispatch six of his teammates in parties of two to hunt down the enemy, reserving five to secure this immediate area.
Valya pivoted into the space. “Don’t,” she warned, sweeping her gaze across the men. “Keep your main force here. That was a lone shooter. Someone intent to pull your strength into that dark maze.”
“One man or not,” Bragin said, “I can’t leave a sniper at our backs.”
“Then send no more than a pair to harass him. Keep the rest in place.” She stared outside. “If that shooter is trying to lure us in that direction, then we should be looking theotherway.”
Bragin turned to Turov.
Turov nodded, trusting Valya’s judgment. “She may be right. For now, let’s keep your men closer at hand until we gain a firmer grasp of the situation.”
“Then let me sendthreeafter the sniper,” Bragin argued. “One to draw out, two to kill.”
Turov considered this. Bragin had decades of experience in urban warfare. In Syria. In Mali. Across the Crimean Peninsula. There was no reason to second-guess the lieutenant.
“Do it,” Turov ordered.
Bragin revised his instructions to his second-in-command.
As the man ran off to pass on the orders, Nadira hissed outside. She waved without looking inside, drawing Valya and Turov to the doorway. The woman pointed toward a massive frozen spillway. At the top, sunlight flowed through the distant tunnel mouth and blazed off the ice, amplified to a blinding glare through their night-vision goggles.
Nadira wasn’t pointing up there, but at the fall’s base. The ice darkened as it dropped away from the sunlight—then brightened again near the bottom. “Something is lighting the far side,” she whispered.
“And growing brighter.” Valya turned to Turov. Satisfaction shone on her face. “Someone’s coming.”
5:35P.M.
Gray rushed down the last of the tunnel. The beam of his flashlight reflected off the wall of ice at the end.
