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Yuri had grown up at the end of the cold war, joining the KGB in time to watch the USSR implode. He’d been insulated to the upheavals for longer than most, training for years to attain the honor of serving in the Vympel of the KGB’s First Directorate — back when the mission was targeting the west.

Designed to blend into the population of foreign countries, its mission was to conduct sabotage operations in the event of all-out war. He’d spent three years learning four foreign languages, a host of foreign customs and mores, along with some decidedly lethal skills. Because of this, he had been hammered on the righteousness of the motherland and the evils of the capitalists more than most other soldiers of the USSR. He was tasked with penetrating deep into the societies of his chosen target, and the politburo had to make sure he wouldn’t decide to simply remain in his assumed role and abandon his mission. His preparation was very, very specific.

The training stuck, leaving Yuri a fierce defender of Mother Russia — even after the fall of the USSR and the disgusting way his comrades raped and pillaged whatever they could, creating oligarchs that became rich off the skin of the people. Exactly what Communism was designed to prevent. In his mind, it proved the failure of capitalism, and was the primary reason he never left the service.

His team was composed of men who had been recruited after the fall, when Vympel joined the FSB after the KGB was disbanded. They didn’t have the skill in cross-border operations that he had, but were still pretty damn effective. With Vympel no longer tasked with penetrating foreign societies in preparation for World War III, they’d spent the majority of their time fighting the Chechens, either head-on in Grozny or outside Russia in a stealth war.

Yuri had worked hard to instill his sense of patriotism into the team, and would not tolerate anything short of absolute devotion and perfection. Mistakes would be tolerated. Once. After that, he’d punish a team member just as easily as an enemy. Kill him if it became necessary. It was how he was trained in the old days, with the old ways, and he’d expect nothing less from Vlad the Impaler. And knew he wouldn’t be disappointed.

7

They reached another hairpin turn, and Asen’s Fortress appeared on an outcropping of rock. An ancient citadel built to protect the valley down below, it hung out into space in an impossible display of construction from a thousand years ago.

How on earth did they build that thing way up here? Without modern tools?

They circled around the hairpin to a small parking lot. Yuri pulled in beside a panel truck and killed the engine.

Dmitri said, “How long will I have in the vehicle?”

“At least ten minutes. The rabbit will go all the way across the road, then walk the footpath on the outcropping to the old church. He’ll enter and take a seat. The surveillance won’t want to burn themselves, so they’ll stake outside until he leaves. My only concern is the follow-on team. If another car comes up here, they might stay right here in this parking lot. It’ll make things a little tricky breaking into the empty vehicle.”

“What will we do then?”

“Nothing. Come up with another plan. But I’m betting they won’t stop. If it were me, I’d continue on so as not to create a signature, parking out of sight up the mountain and waiting on a radio call. These guys will do the same.”

Fifteen minutes later the Nigerian turned around the hairpin driving a beat-up Lada two-door sedan. He parked as instructed, waited for about a minute, then exited the vehicle. Yuri strained to see the follow-on surveillance, not too concerned about being remembered by the opposition because he didn’t intend for this car to report back to anyone.

Thirty seconds later, a Ford Escape rounded the turn and parked. Yuri recognized one of the men inside as part of the surveillance effort. He waited until the men had exited the vehicle and crossed over a hillock in the middle of the hairpin, circling around picnic tables and a small children’s play area. When they’d disappeared from view, Yuri scrambled along the same path, taking a seat at a table that allowed him to view both the road up and the crosswalk that led to the entrance of the ancient fortress across the road.

Seeing a single car headed toward him, he spoke into an earpiece. “Stand by. Vehicle approaching.”

The car made the hairpin, slowed in the parking lot, then continued on up the small ribbon of road, heading deeper into the mountains. Yuri couldn’t confirm if it was part of the surveillance team, but he assumed it was. He triggered the operation.

He saw Dmitri exit the vehicle, sidle between the cars, then slim-jim the door of the Ford. He opened a bag, flopped onto his back, and began working a small device into the onboard diagnostic port, allowing him access to the controller area network that facilitated the various electronic control units of the Ford Escape.

Ordinarily used by mechanics to determine faults with the car, the onboard diagnostic port also allowed a pass-through for the entire brain of the vehicle. A brain that would now be controlled by the follow-on car.

Dmitri finished, and Yuri settled in to wait for the Nigerian to leave. It took longer than he expected, but a little over twenty minutes later he saw him approaching the crosswalk. He knew that the surveillance wouldn’t be too far behind.

Yuri scrambled down the hill and entered his car, asking a question without saying a word.

“It plugged in fine,” said Dmitri. “Shouldn’t be an issue.”

“We need to do more than just pull the brakes. They have to go over the cliff. I can’t trust them to lose control.”

“You won’t have to. The Ford Escape has parking assistance. It’ll parallel park the vehicle for you. Which means the computer controls the steering. I’ll have that control. You just need to be close enough.”

They watched the target leave, driving back down the hill, and waited, feeling the heat build in the car from the sunshine. Within seconds, the vehicle that Yuri had seen travel up the road earlier came flying back down, now taking the lead on surveillance and allowing the team that had penetrated the fortress a gap in time to protect them from exposure.

Yuri no longer cared about the active surveillance or the rabbit. He waited on his target. Eventually, they fired up the Ford and began driving back down the mountain. Like a snake tracking his prey, he slid in behind the car.

Driving directly behind the target, he said, “Two turns. You’ve got two turns.”

Dmitri said, “Working it.”

Yuri glanced his way and saw him stroking the keys to a laptop, a USB cable stretched out on the dash with an iPhone 5s attached to it. They passed the first turn.

“You’ve got a little over a mile. Status.”

“I have contact, but I can’t manipulate.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Fingers flying over the keyboard, Dmitri said, “I can talk to my device, but it’s not talking to the car.”

Yuri closed his eyes for a second, then applied the brakes. Dmitri said, “What are you doing? I have to maintain our connection.”

“I’m not going to burn us for this circus.”

“It’ll work! Give me a chance. Back off after the kill-zone if it’s still not working.”

Yuri grimaced, and increased acceleration. Dmitri rattled off a string of numbers designed to instill confidence, but they meant nothing to Yuri. Dmitri continued to manipulate the keys. He called a signal strength that might as well have been describing the fluid dynamics of a rocket launch as far as Yuri was concerned.

Dmitri said one more mix of computer language and Yuri snapped, “Shut the fuck up. Is it working or not?”

Dmitri smiled. “Yes. Yes, it is. Tell me when.”