June reflected on the story. "Okay. So, you think maybe this Andrews' Raiders group has something to do with all this trouble?"
"Maybe," Tommy said. "Andrews and his men ran out of fuel just outside Ringgold. All the time it took for them to stop, burn bridges, and sabotage rails cost them. Eventually, their pursuers caught up. They would have been caught sooner, but Andrews and his men cut telegraph lines from Atlanta so there was no way to get word north to cut them off. When their train slowed to a halt, they had no choice but to make a run for it. Some of them made it into the forests around White Oak Mountain. Others split up and tried to get through the valley. Almost all of them were caught. Some were tried and hanged, including Andrews. Knowing their companions' fate, many of the captured men escaped and made their way back to Northern lines. Nearly all of the soldiers were awarded the Medal of Honor. Andrews wasn't because he was a civilian. Several of them were buried in the Chattanooga National Cemetery. There's a monument by the graves commemorating their mission."
"What Tommy is saying, June, is that we don't know if it has anything to do with what's going on with us or not, but right now it's the only lead we have."
"It's possible," Tommy said, "that the sabotage story was a cover-up to the real purpose. Seems like an awfully desperate move from a military that was already winning the war. The South was on the run. The North was closing in, and it would only be a matter of time until the war ended."
"Unless they found something that could turn the tide," Sean said.
"Right. Like a massive fortune. The Confederacy was strapped for cash, and they didn't have the manufacturing the Union had. There was no way they could keep their men supplied with weapons and ammo at the same rate as the North. But if they had money, they could buy supplies from an old enemy of the United States."
"The British?" June said.
Tommy nodded. "Possibly. There were others, too. But the British certainly had a vested interest in the war's outcome."
"Or maybe they found something more powerful than money," Sean said in an absent tone.
The two in the front looked back at him.
"Like what?" Tommy asked.
Sean looked out the window again, keeping his eyes on the lanes behind them. "I don't know, but maybe we need to make a little trip back home."
Chapter 7
Yuri rubbed his eyes. He hadn't slept in almost twenty-four hours. His eyelids felt like ten-pound weights were hooked to them as he struggled to stay awake on the road. He couldn't stop to sleep, though.
His mark hadn't. So he wouldn't either.
He'd been following Sean Wyatt around New England, and now all the way into the Southeastern United States. The American's ability to go without rest was impressive. Yuri knew why, of course.
Over the last month, he'd studied Wyatt, learned everything about the man… or what he could learn, at least.
Wyatt wasn't exactly secretive for someone who'd once-upon-a-time been an exemplary special agent. With that kind of experience, Yuri imagined, sooner or later someone would come looking for payback. Although, according to Wyatt's dossier, the way he operated didn't leave many opponents alive, which might be why the American was so comfortable being in the open.
Yuri started dozing off again and almost veered into the oncoming lane. He smacked his cheek for what must have been the fifth time in the last twenty minutes. The fresh sting on his skin snapped him back to reality.
His assignment had been simple enough, or so it seemed on the surface. He was to follow Wyatt until he found something.
Simple and also vague.
Yuri asked his superior what Wyatt was looking for or what was meant by the term "found something."
"What will he find?" Yuri said.
"We… don't know. Just stay with him. This mission is of the highest importance."
They didn't know what Wyatt would find? That fact had struck Yuri as beyond strange. As a good soldier, though, he wouldn't question orders.
He'd always done what he was told. Being raised in a strict home had yielded that mindset.
Yuri's parents were hard-working middle class people. His father worked in a steel factory, his mother as a custodian in a hospital. He'd yearned for something more as a child, wishing to travel the world and see magnificent sights.
His father, however, spent more money on vodka than taking family vacations. As Yuri went through school, he soon realized that if he were going to ever get a chance to leave home, it would be in the service of Mother Russia.
He'd been in the military since he was of age. Four years in, his superiors recommended him to a special branch of their Spetsnaz (special forces). It didn't take long before Yuri's commanding officers saw his potential. They contacted the main intelligence directorate — GRU — and requested he be trained as a spy.
Most of Yuri's work had taken place in Chechnya, Ukraine, and Georgia, but he'd been to more countries than he could remember.
Sure, he had to kill people now and then, but he was living his dream of seeing the world. It wasn't a typical life, that much he knew. Yuri also didn't care.
He watched the line of cars in front of him, making sure the one carrying Wyatt didn't leave his field of view. He couldn't see the American's car, but he knew it was there. One of the things he'd learned early on was how to trail a mark without being detected. An expert like Wyatt would most likely be on the lookout for trouble. Yuri knew he would be if the roles were reversed. So far, he'd managed to follow Wyatt from New England to Atlanta without being noticed. He couldn't screw up now.
His mind drifted to the events in upstate New York. He'd watched as a group of men abducted Wyatt. Following those men had been much more of a challenge, requiring mere guessing on several occasions as to the direction their SUV had gone. Yuri was lucky, and had managed to keep up with the mysterious men until they pulled off onto a side road, far out in the country.
Hiding his car a half kilometer away, he trudged back to the side road on foot before ducking into the forest and making his way to the meadow. From the safety of the trees, he watched as the men — Americans from what he could tell — threatened to execute Wyatt. They had a grave dug for him before they arrived, fully intent on disposing of the man permanently.
Yuri wasn't sure what to do. Should he protect Wyatt and take out the men but risk exposing himself? If he did, Wyatt would know someone was following him. If he didn't save the American, the odd trail Yuri had been on would come to an abrupt end.
Fortunately, he hadn't been forced to make that call.
Wyatt had managed to free himself of his captors, killing a few of them in the process. A stranger also appeared with a hunting rifle and scared Wyatt's captors enough that they fled the scene. Two bullets in Wyatt's chest, no communications, and being stuck out in the middle of nowhere were a recipe for certain death.
At least it would have been had the stranger not shown up and pulled Wyatt out of the grave.
Yuri watched as the older man hauled Wyatt back to a cabin in the woods. There, over the course of days, the stranger nursed Wyatt to health.
Not knowing how long he'd have to sit and wait near the cabin, Yuri found a town not far from there and bought some supplies. He lined his crossover with blankets at night to keep the interior as warm as possible. Sleeping in the cold had been something he learned as a child when there wasn't always enough heat in their rickety Moscow apartment building.
During his first night near the cabin, he set up a laser tripwire on the driveway in case anyone left. For several days and nights, the only person who went anywhere was the old man. At one point — when the cabin's owner drove into town — Yuri risked venturing to the cabin and taking a quick look inside to make sure Wyatt was still there. It would have been Yuri's luck for the American to make a sneaky escape in the back of the old guy's truck.