“Bill, it’s me.”
“That’s good.”
“Anyone else call?”
“No, thank God—”
“Anything to report there?”
“No. Quiet. Nechevo.”
“Okay, you won’t be getting any calls on the telephone except from us.”
“Both radios are squawking away.”
“Hold on.” Alevy moved to the radios and turned the volume up on the speakers. He listened a few seconds, then said to Brennan, “Normal traffic. Don’t worry about it.”
“Right. You in charge there now?”
“Getting there.”
“You find them?” Brennan asked.
“Yes, they’re both with us now.”
“Great. Say hello.”
“All right. Listen, Bill, if your end of the operation starts to come apart, you and O’Shea beat it. And if you’re still around at three forty-five, and we don’t show up, you leave before that gas gets to you. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Lisa will be at this switchboard until further notice.”
“Good.”
“See you later.” Alevy said to Lisa, “Hold Brennan’s hand awhile. Connect any calls going through this switchboard and listen in. With your other ear, monitor the traffic on these two radios. Okay?”
She nodded.
Alevy said to her, “We shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes. If you hear trouble, call Brennan, then get out of here and make it to the helipad. I’d like one witness to this place to make it out. Okay?”
She glanced at Hollis, who nodded.
“Okay,” Alevy said. “Sam, let’s go to the room where they monitor the listening devices.”
Hollis squeezed Lisa’s hand and went to the door, opening it slowly. “Clear.” Alevy and Mills followed him into the lobby.
Hollis led them to a short corridor off the lobby that ended in a black metal door marked MONITORING STATION. The three men held their pistols at the ready, and Hollis twisted the doorknob slowly. He took his hand off the knob and shook his head to Alevy. “Locked.” He raised his hand to knock, then noticed a button on the doorjamb and pressed it.
A few seconds later a voice called out. “Who is it?”
Hollis replied, “Cheltsov.”
“Yes, sir.”
Hollis moved to the blind side of the door as Alevy and Mills holstered their pistols. Alevy whispered to Hollis, “Stay here and keep watch.”
The door swung out, revealing a young man in his shirtsleeves. The man looked at Alevy and Mills, jumped back quickly, and saluted, his eyes scanning left and right for Lieutenant Cheltsov.
Alevy and Mills strode into the monitoring station, a small windowless room of precast concrete, lit by fluorescent bulbs. Six men sat at individual consoles with earphones, listening, Alevy assumed, to the input from various electronic security devices around the camp, switching channels from time to time.
Along the far wall was a bank of reel-to-reel tape recorders. On the left-hand wall, Alevy saw a large map of the camp, marked with numbers showing, Alevy guessed, the locations of the listening devices.
The young man in his shirtsleeves, still holding his salute, asked, “Can I help you, Major?”
Alevy replied tersely, “Carry on.”
The young man hurried back to his console and put on his earphones.
Alevy and Mills stood in the center of the room and looked around. Alevy noticed a red light over the door, which he guessed must flash when the door button was pushed so as to alert the men with headphones that someone was there. Alevy spoke to Mills in a soft voice. “How do you want to take them?”
Mills cleared his throat. “They’re unarmed, Seth. Can we take them without blood?”
“I would, Bert, if we had a bit more time.” Alevy noticed a few of the men glancing at him and Mills, and he gave them a stern look, sending them back to their monitoring. Alevy said to Mills, “You do those three, I’ll do these three here, and we’ll meet at the middle. On three… one, two, three—” Alevy and Mills drew their silenced automatics and began firing.
Hollis, outside the door, heard bodies hitting the floor and thrashing around. Someone screamed. He reached for the door, but it opened, and Mills came out, looking, Hollis thought, as though it was he who had lost blood. Alevy followed, closing the door behind him. Alevy said to Hollis, “The cells.”
Hollis led them back to the lobby, then turned into the long corridor that ran to the rear of the headquarters building. They came to the cell doors and quickly checked the bolts until they found one that was shut. Hollis opened it and looked inside. A man lay on the floor and even in the dim light Hollis could see his clothes were torn and he was badly battered.
Alevy said, “I guess that’s Dodson.”
Hollis knelt beside the man and checked his pulse. “Alive.”
Alevy said to Hollis, “Take him to the commo room. Wait there with Lisa.”
Hollis stood. “Where are you two going?”
“Where can we get a vehicle?”
“Should be one or two Zils out back.” He moved to the door of the cell. “Down that corridor.”
“Okay,” Alevy said, “we’ll bring it around front.” He added, “Sam, if you don’t see us in ten minutes, you and Lisa take off for the helipad. Okay? Don’t try to carry Dodson.” Alevy asked, “If I don’t catch up with you later, where can I find Burov?”
“East end of the main road,” Hollis answered. “Big dacha. Guards and dogs. Think about that.” Hollis added, “Don’t forget about the men in the guard room down the corridor.”
Hollis went back to Dodson and lifted him onto his shoulders.
Alevy and Mills walked rapidly into the corridor that Hollis had indicated and came to a door marked GUARD ROOM. Alevy opened the door, and he and Mills walked into a small barracks room in which was a field desk and telephone and six double bunk beds, all unoccupied except for one bottom bunk in which was a naked man and woman. A sergeant’s KGB uniform and the woman’s clothes were strewn on the floor. The sergeant sat up quickly and hit his head on the top bunk, then scrambled out of the bed and stood naked at attention. The woman pulled the sheets over her head.
Alevy asked, “Sergeant, where are the other guards and drivers?”
The sergeant seemed to have trouble finding his voice, then replied, “One guard and driver are making the rounds of the posts with the corporal of the guard. The other guard and driver are at their fixed post at the rear door of this building.”
“Is anyone else in the building?”
“The duty officer, the communications specialist, and the men in the monitoring room. Major, I can explain about—”
“About-face, Sergeant.”
The sergeant did an about-face, and Alevy drew his pistol and shot him in the back of the head, sending him sprawling over the strewn clothes. Mills put three rounds into the huddled figure beneath the blanket. The woman thrashed around, then lay still. Mills and Alevy caught each other’s eye for a moment, then turned away and went out into the corridor.
They found their way to a rear foyer and opened a metal door that led down a ramp to a concrete slab on which sat a Zil-6. A harsh mercury-vapor light on the building illuminated the rear courtyard, and beyond the Zil, Alevy saw what looked like a medieval catapult. A KGB man sat on the running board of the Zil, smoking a cigarette. Standing near him was a bulky Border Guard with an AK-47 slung over his shoulder. The two men saw the door open, and the driver stood. The other man turned and faced Alevy and Mills.
Alevy walked up to them, and when they saw he was an officer, they came to rigid attention. Alevy said to the driver, who was wearing a holster and revolver, “I am Major Voronin, from Moscow, and this is Captain Molev. We are making a security check of this installation.”