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Two Polish operatives ran across Will’s path and pursued the SAR and the Paderewski. Will ducked for cover before they could see him, waited five seconds, and ran east along Na Ostrowiu. Within five seconds, he was crossing the river. Within ten seconds he was on the large island. The place was silent; sea mist hung thickly over the security lit warehouses, moored cargo ships, jetties, cranes, small factory units, roads, and the waterways around the island. He slowed to a jog and began moving across the island toward the canal containing the target vessels. He saw no movement of any sort and heard nothing beyond the distant foghorn. The whole island seemed deserted.

“Delta 1. The Paderewski’s slowing down.” The Q operative’s voice was a near whisper. “It’s about two-thirds of the way along the canal. Speed now about five knots. Four locals near us, all of them holding handguns.”

“Received.” Will dashed along a narrow gap between two warehouses, gripping his handgun tightly with one hand, searching for glimpses of the canal. But so far all he could see were more industrial shipping units. The air was even colder here; the whole place felt eerie. He ran alongside a stack of big freight containers before reaching a small road. On the other side of it were two large warehouses, between them an alleyway. Lights were visible at the far end of the gap. He entered the gap, nearly fell as his feet struck loose girders on the ground, staggered to stay upright, and continued sprinting. The lights belonged to lamps straddling the broad canal.

“Delta 1. The Paderewski’s now at a crawl and so is the SAR.”

Will slowed to a walk. Sweat from his exertions felt cold against his skin. He held his gun high with both hands, searching for sight of Russians or the local intelligence operatives. Reaching a road by the side of the canal, he stood still and looked left. Cargo boats were moored on either side of the waterway, derrick cranes beside them; a row of warehouses was adjacent to the road, larger ones on the other side of the canal. But here the icy mist seemed thicker and was moving slowly along the canal toward him. He was blind to anything beyond a forty-yard radius of his location. “I’m in position.”

“There’s a man who’s emerged onto the deck of the SAR vessel.” Delta 1’s voice was still a whisper, but urgent. “Tall, athletic, dressed in overcoat and suit, hand inside his jacket.”

Will saw lights draw closer along the canal.

The Paderewski.

“The tall man moves across the SAR’s deck, he faces the island bank, he looks at the Paderewski, he looks back at the bank, he runs forward, jumps, and lands on the island. He pulls his hand out of his jacket. He’s holding a pistol.”

Will looked sharply away from the encroaching Paderewski toward the road he was on. The big Russian was somewhere in the darkness ahead of him.

“The Paderewski’s pulling alongside the island. Four Polish sailors are on deck.”

Will watched the ship. “What’s the SAR doing?”

“It’s still right on the ass of the Paderewski. No sign of any other men coming out of it though.”

“They’re waiting. Everyone: stand by.”

“Delta 1. We’ve got two locals moving across the southern crossing onto the island. Their handguns are out. My men are following them.” Silence. “The Paderewski’s stationary. Two of the sailors are on the island, roping the ship to the berth. Four Delta and four locals are now on the east bank of the canal, close to the two vessels. Our locals have still got their guns trained on the SAR. Another man on the deck of the Paderewski. He’s not dressed like the sailors.”

Will took five quick paces toward the ship, but could not distinguish anything beyond the bow of the vessel. “That could be our defector.”

“Men emerging on the SAR’s deck! Four of them, now six, now. . now eleven! All armed with assault rifles.”

Pistol shots rang out.

“The Poles have opened fire!”

The sound of machine gun fire was deafening. “Russians are returning fire. Some of them are jumping onto the island.”

“Take them down!” Will ran along the road toward the gunfight.

Four shots came from his left. One of the bullets ripped through the front of Will’s overcoat, narrowly missing his body. He spun to face the direction of the shots, saw two Poles emerge from the darkness pointing their handguns at him, dived to the ground as they fired again, rolled, got to his feet, and sprinted as they kept shooting. The noise of a different handgun came from behind the Polish operatives. Will looked in that direction while continuing to run, caught a brief glimpse of a man wearing a baseball cap and pointing his gun at the sky, knew that man had to be a Delta operative, saw the Poles spin around to face the Q man, and then saw him dash away into the fog. The Poles spun back to face Will, but the Delta operative’s distraction had enabled Will to get farther away from them and out of their sight.

He reached the side of the Paderewski. Two sailors were lying on the ground, immobile and moaning in pain. He was about to move to them when he felt a tremendous force on his shoulder blade. He collapsed to his knees in agony. A man emerged from behind him. He was tall and dressed in an overcoat and suit-he had to be the SVR officer. Will tried to raise his arm to shoot him, but winced in pain from the movement and involuntarily lowered it. The Russian ignored him, walking quickly to the sailors. He grabbed one of them, hauled him onto his shoulder, carried him twenty yards away from the boat, lowered him onto the ground, and then did the same with the other sailor.

Over the sound of near continuous gunfire, Delta 1 screamed, “The defector’s jumped onto the island. He’s somewhere close to you.”

Gritting his teeth, Will forced himself onto his feet, this time managing to keep his arm moving upward. Pointing his gun at the Russian, he saw the man turn to face him. He was holding something in his hand.

A detonator.

Four explosions happened in quick succession to his right, causing Will to twist and fall back to the ground. Shards of metal flew through the air; smoke and fire seemed to cover everything. Will covered his head and lay flat on the ground, feeling small pieces of debris fall over him. He turned his head, his ears ringing from the explosions, and saw that the Paderewski was ablaze and beginning to sink.

He looked at the Russian. The man was facing Will and firing, but not at him. The SVR officer began running and by the time he passed Will’s prone body he was at full sprint while still shooting. Will rolled onto his side, ignored the intense heat from the fire in the canal, saw an unarmed man disappear down the road and saw the Russian chasing him. He looked back and frowned as he saw that the two sailors had not been hurt by the explosion because the man who had blown up the boat had moved them out of harm’s way.

Getting to his feet, he began running after the Russian, but after a few paces he heard a hail of machine gun fire. He threw himself sideways onto the ground and rolled away until he was behind the cover of a warehouse. More bullets hit the wall by his side, causing chunks of brick to fly off it.

Will clutched his mic against his throat. “Delta 1: I’m going after the big SVR guy. He’s pursuing an unarmed man who is almost certainly the defector.”