72
Konstantin
Two hours earlier
“They’ve taken the bait,” I say, watching the satellite feed of Tatiana’s men swarming the main entrance of Eagle Point. “They think we’re coming in from the front.”
Timur frowns, studying the tactical display. “But how do we get in? They’ve disabled the security protocols, changed all the access codes.”
I allow myself a thin smile. “Not all of them.”
The helicopter banks sharply to the left, circling wide around the mountain ridge. Below us, the sheer cliff face of Eagle Point’s eastern side comes into view—untouched, pristine, with no visible access points. Exactly as designed.
“Where are we landing?” Arseny asks, checking his weapon for the third time. “There’s no helipad on this side.”
“There is,” I reply, nodding to the pilot. “Just not on any blueprint you’ve seen.”
The pilot adjusts our trajectory, bringing us toward what appears to be a solid rock outcropping. As we draw closer, the camouflaged netting becomes visible—subtle, nearly impossible to spot unless you know exactly what you’re looking for. Beneath it, a small landing pad, just large enough for a single helicopter.
“Clever bastard,” Arseny mutters, a hint of admiration in his voice. “When did you build this?”
“When I built Eagle Point.” I check the action on my Glock, the familiar weight grounding me. “Always have a backup plan.”
The helicopter settles onto the pad. No lights, no guidance systems—nothing that would announce our presence. The moment we touch down, I’m moving, ducking under the still-rotating blades and heading toward what looks like solid rock.
“Three meters from the edge, two panels in,” I direct Timur, who runs his hands along the cliff face until he finds the nearly invisible seam. A panel slides aside, revealing a biometric scanner.
“Backup protocol,” I explain, pressing my palm to the scanner. “Only two people’s prints open this door. Mine and my father’s.”
Timur and Arseny exchange a quick look. I see it—the flicker of respect. The realization that theirPakhanwas ten steps ahead, even when they thought he was just being paranoid.
Paranoia keeps us alive.
The rock face slides open silently, revealing a narrow passage cut directly into the mountain. Emergency lights flicker on as we enter, casting long shadows down the corridor.
“Weapons ready,” I say quietly, drawing my Glock. “We’re entering blind.”
The passage descends steeply, twisting deeper into the mountain. After three hundred meters, it terminates at anotherbiometric lock—this one requiring both handprint and retinal scan.
“Where does this lead?” Timur asks as the scanner maps my retina.
“Directly into the command center,” I reply. “If they’ve taken the facility, this will put us behind them.”
The door slides open, revealing the familiar console bank of Eagle Point’s nerve center. The room is empty—the guards Tatiana brought in focused elsewhere, hunting through the more obvious sections of the facility.
Timur immediately moves to the security station, fingers flying over the keyboard.
“I can access some of the camera feeds,” he says after a moment. “They haven’t disabled everything—just rerouted control.”
The monitors flicker to life, showing fragmented views of the facility. My gut tightens as I scan each feed, looking for my family. Looking for Bella.
“There,” Arseny says, pointing to one of the monitors. “The panic room corridor.”
Armed men stand guard outside the reinforced door, their posture suggesting they’re waiting for something—or someone.
“Can you get audio?” I ask Timur.
He shakes his head. “The panic room’s systems are isolated. We’d need to be closer.”
