His heart pounded in his throat. He pictured Jason collapsing into his arms, poisoned by the harpoon strike of that plant. But he knew there would be no hope for the young man—for any of them—if the Russians got the upper hand.
As he neared the exit, he strained for the grenade blasts that had drawn him away with Seichan. Occasional gunfire reached him, but little else.
Was it already over?
He slowed as he reached the ice wall and edged toward the narrow gap behind the throne—and paused. An instinct warned him something was amiss.
“What’re you doing?” Seichan asked, crowding at his back.
He lifted a palm as he realized what had raised his hackles. He took a single breath, firming his conclusion. Then took the only action he could. He lobbed his flashlight through the gap and out into the open, sending it spinning wildly—then swung around, cupped his palm over Seichan’s light, and shouldered her toward the far side.
Behind him, he heard gasps, confirming the worst.
A spatter of gunfire sparked off the ice.
Now Seichan understood and flicked off her light.
A moment ago, the part of his brain honed during his years in the military, sharpened further by his decade with Sigma, had noted that it was too dark beyond that throne. His ears had also failed to pick up any murmur from Tucker, any shuffle from his two dogs. That paranoid section of his mind that was always on high alert put those pieces together in a heartbeat and had screamedambush.
Additionally, as it was dark, it suggested the lurkers were using night-vision. Under those sensitive scopes, his spinning flashlight would burn as brightly as a flare, momentarily blinding anyone out there. And if he had been wrong, the only outcome would be a shattered flashlight and a couple startled dogs.
But he was not wrong.
He drove Seichan out the gap on the far side, scooting behind the throne carved with sea life. They dared not retreat toward Jason and the others or risk putting them in a direct line of fire.
Taking advantage of the momentary shock, Gray barreled out from behind the throne and into the open. He ran low, in case anyone was posted on this side and hadn’t been looking when he tossed his makeshift flash-bomb. Behind him, his flashlight continued to twirl on the floor, strobing enough illumination for him and Seichan to reach the edge of the stone labyrinth.
Within steps, though, sweeping between two buildings, the world fell into deep shadows. The distant glow from the reflected sunlightoffered little help. Gray rushed with one hand on the wall next to him, the other extended in front.
The only teammate with night-vision gear was Tucker and his two dogs. He cursed his group’s lack of equipment and ducked into a doorway and tried his radio, but all he got back was low static. He ran a palm over the stone wall.
Still, too much rock.
Seichan leaned next to him, her voice a breathless whisper. “What now?”
5:37P.M.
Valya cursed under her breath, her retinas still flared.
How had they known...?
Her goggles sat atop her forehead. One of the soldiers had already smothered the flashlight and extinguished it. To rest everyone’s eyes, a few red lamps had been set up and glowed on the ground. Thespetsnazteam sheltered at the edge of the city, out of the line of fire of any sniper.
Bragin had already dispatched three men in the direction of the fleeing pair, but it would be hard to flush them out of that labyrinth. Recognizing this, the lieutenant’s instructions had been to canvass that side, to hold the line until a strategy could be worked out.
Valya had little patience, especially as she had caught a brief glimpse of one of the two who had fled. The slim shape, even the gait of her flight, was branded into Valya’s memory. She was prepared to begin this hunt on her own, taking only Nadira. But she had acted rashly in the past and had paid a steep price for it.
Another hadn’t learned that lesson yet.
Sychkin confronted Turov. “Those two came from somewhere well hidden, a location clearly meaningful with those two thrones flanking it. It must be important.”
“It can wait,” the captain said.
“It can’t,” the archpriest insisted. “We must know what they learned. Before communications fully reopen following this solar storm. Whenthey do, we must be the first to announce it, to claim it for Russia. Nothing else matters.”
Turov groaned, clearly perturbed and done with the archpriest. “Then go. Take Yerik. I’ll give you three men, but no more. Not until we secure this area.”
Sychkin smiled, showing too many teeth. He opened his mouth to say more, possibly to gloat, but the look on Turov’s face dissuaded any further discussion. Taking advantage of this boon while he could, Sychkin hurried to Yerik and Bragin.
