“I’ll brief you,” Hollis said curtly, “in London. Let’s move it.”
Suddenly a pair of headlights appeared on the road, and they saw a huge Zil-131 troop carrier pass the parking lot, heading toward the headquarters building.
Mills said, “If he stops at headquarters, he’s not going to like what he sees there.”
Alevy hit the accelerator and swung back onto the road, falling in behind the troop carrier. In the canvas-covered rear compartment, Alevy’s headlights illuminated about twenty men with AK-47’s. Alevy honked his horn and flashed his lights. The carrier’s driver put his arm out the window, then stopped the vehicle. The driver got out and walked back toward them. He called out, “Strakhov?”
Alevy said to Hollis and Lisa, “Stay low.” He opened his door and said to Mills, “Get behind the wheel.” Alevy jumped out and walked toward the driver of the troop carrier, who was shielding his eyes against the glare of the headlights. The driver asked, “Who is that?”
“Major Voronin.”
The man snapped to attention and saluted.
Alevy asked, “Where are you taking those men?”
The driver replied, “To relieve the guard posts.”
“Which guard posts?”
“Towers one and two, the main gate, the headquarters, and the helipad, sir. I’ve just relieved the guards at the dacha.”
“Colonel Burov’s dacha?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How many guards do you mount there?”
“Three.”
Alevy glanced at the twenty armed men in the rear of the truck whose heads were turned toward him. Alevy addressed the driver. “The personnel in the headquarters and the helipad have two more hours punishment duty for sloppy attitudes.”
“Yes, sir. By whose authority, Major?”
“Mine, Corporal. Go directly to the towers and the main gate, then bring the rest of your men back to the guard house.”
“The barracks, sir.”
“Yes, the barracks.” Alevy felt a bead of sweat form under his cap and roll down his forehead. “Dismissed.”
The driver hesitated, then saluted and turned on his heel.
Alevy walked back to the Zil and got into the passenger side. “Turn it around, Bert.”
Mills had trouble finding reverse, then got it into gear, and the Zil stalled. “Damn it!” The big troop carrier sat on the road in front of them. Mills restarted his vehicle and made a choppy three-point turn on the narrow road as the troop carrier moved off slowly. No one spoke. Mills got the Zil moving back down the road toward Burov’s dacha. He said softly, “I don’t drive Russian.”
Hollis said to Alevy, “I heard most of that, and I don’t think he completely bought it.”
“You don’t understand the Russian mind.”
“I understand the military mind. Men will take orders from their own officers, but not necessarily from an officer they don’t recognize.”
“I seem to be doing all right.” Alevy asked, “Do you want to turn back or go on?”
Hollis replied, “Go on.”
Lisa made a sound of exasperation. She said to Mills, “Please, Bert, can’t you reason with these two?”
Mills thought a moment, then replied, “No.”
A minute later, Alevy asked, “Is that the dacha’s guard booth ahead?”
Hollis peered out the windshield. “That’s it. The dacha is surrounded by barbed wire. Dogs run loose between the wire and the house. There should be two KGB at the guard booth and one inside the dacha itself. But you never know.”
“That driver confirmed three.” Alevy said to Mills, “You take the guard that approaches, I’ve got the other one.”
“Right.”
“Down in back.”
Mills slowed the vehicle and drew closer to the guard booth. Alevy looked past the gate at the rather plain-looking dacha sitting in darkness about a hundred meters away. Mills brought the Zil to a bucking halt, and it stalled. He started it again. “I never got the hang of a stick shift.” He drew his pistol and held it in his lap.
One of the guards walked up to the driver’s side and looked in the open window. “Yes, Captain?”
Mills pumped a single shot between the man’s eyes as Alevy opened his door and stood on the running board. The second guard was still in the small booth, and Alevy could see him furiously cranking the field phone as he reached for his rifle. Alevy steadied his aim over the roof of the Zil and fired all eight rounds from his pistol into the booth. The glass and wood splintered, and the man dropped to the floor.
Mills shut off his headlights.
Hollis got out of the Zil as Alevy moved to the gate. Hollis grabbed Alevy’s shoulder. “He’s mine.”
Alevy nodded. “Okay. But don’t kill him.”
“I know.”
Alevy looked at his watch. “We have thirty-four minutes to get to the helipad.”
Lisa said to Hollis, “Let me go with you. I can help you get past the guard inside.”
Hollis nodded. He opened the wire gate, then turned to Alevy. “On the left side of the house is Greg Fisher’s Trans Am. We’ll take that out of here.”
Alevy seemed not to understand. “Fisher’s Trans Am? Here…?”
“Burov drives it. Keys are most probably in the ignition.”
Alevy nodded. “Good idea, Sam. They might be on the lookout for a Zil-6 by now. And if the Trans Am is Burov’s car, we might not be challenged.”
Mills added, “And we may need the speed and handling. The Zil’s a pig.”
Hollis replied, “All that may be true. But I want the Trans Am, because… I want the Trans Am.” He took Lisa by the arm and began running up the long blacktop path toward the dacha.
Two German shepherds suddenly appeared out of the dark, tearing toward them from opposite directions. Hollis dove into a prone firing position, steadied his aim, and fired at the closer dog to his left. The automatic coughed softly, but the dog yelped loudly. Hollis rolled to his right just as the second shepherd reached him and Lisa. Hollis could actually smell the big dog in the split second before he put a bullet into its open mouth.
Hollis stood and helped Lisa to her feet. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
They got to the front door, and Hollis nodded to her. She turned the doorknob and found it open. Lisa put her pistol in her parka and slipped inside.
The guard was sitting in a chair in the large foyer by the light of a dim lamp, aiming his automatic rifle at her. Lisa partly closed the door behind her and stood motionless. The guard said, “Who are you?”
She put her finger to her lips and whispered in Russian, “I am Lisa Rhodes, the new American woman. The colonel wishes to see me.”
The guard said, “He never told me.”
“He told the men outside.”
The guard grinned. “And what do you suppose the colonel wants to see you about at this hour?”
“He wants to have sex with me.”
The guard smirked and put his rifle on the desk. He said, “I’ll have to sneak upstairs and nudge him.” He pulled off his boots. “Get into the living room and get out of your clothes. That’s where he has to do it with his old lady upstairs.” The guard stood in his stocking feet.
Lisa pulled the door open and jumped aside.
Hollis ran through the door and fired as the man reached for his rifle, then rushed forward and grabbed him before he fell. Hollis sat the man back in his chair and saw the frothy blood forming at his lips and could hear the sucking chest wound as the guard tried to breathe.
Hollis took Lisa by the arm and propelled her toward the front door. He whispered, “Go. No arguing.”
“Please… Sam, be careful—”
Hollis opened the door and pushed her out, then turned back to the guard, who was staring at him. Hollis walked past him, then turned, clamped his hand on the man’s shoulder, and fired a bullet into the back of his head, holding him in his seat.