Off to chapter 21 we go. We hope everyone would continue to support and enjoy the read by Red Wolf.
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Chapter 21:
Zelenograd
55.9872°N, 37.2022°W
0833 hours, 7/5/2020
Granger had to make a quick pit stop to refill the gas tank, watching over the metre as McCain and Nyechenko tried to find a way to enter the convenience store undetected. McCain had found a cotton pad on the ground and, carefully pulling out the fluff, made a pick for the door lock.
Nyechenko watched in surprise as the MI6 agent deftly applied pressure on the lock from the top and bottom, twisting and turning until all the pins had been set.
“How did you do that?” he asked in fascination.
“Just an instinct, mate.” McCain replied. In truth, he had been seeing the numbers and hearing whispers throughout his so-called “vacation”; he just had to conceal his theory that they were helping him to survive. He entered the store first, avoiding the CCTV cameras and crawling on his belly to the register under the cover to darkness.
Once all the cameras were shut down, McCain signalled to Nyechenko that he could enter. They quickly grabbed some potato chips, a pack of soft drinks and some cans of beer before leaving the store. They soon returned to the car, where Granger was waiting in the driver’s seat.
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“What took you so long?” she asked once they were inside. “We could’ve been caught out by our friends from Moscow.”
“Sorry about that.” McCain apologised as they strapped in. “Just needed to grab some supplies.”
With that, Granger started the engine and rolled out of the station, continuing the drive through Zelenograd.
Time, twenty-six minutes to nine in the morning.
They drove past the city borders and through more rural areas of the city, leaving behind the skyscrapers and office blocks for snow-covered fields and wild animals roaming aimlessly on the road. Eventually, Granger made a sudden turn to the right and cut through an unpaved route of dirt and grass. It was bumpy and especially frigid. Soon after, the car passed through a deep forest with minimal visibility. Concerned, McCain leaned in and tapped Granger on the shoulder.
“Hey, Em. You sure we’re heading in the right direction?”
“We are, Lucius. Just sit back.” Granger answered, never once blinking. She made a couple of turns around several trees and emerged at the other end of the woods. What they saw made McCain and Nyechenko feel relieved.
The airfield was a massive strip of land with a tar runway, a traditional plane hangar and a control tower with a satellite antenna. The Union Jack flew over the hangar, a symbol of British land on Russian territory. There was also a C-17 Globemaster III parked on the runway, with military personnel rushing to ensure the aircraft was fit for takeoff. However, the car’s arrival alarmed the soldiers, who raised their guns at the driver. Once the vehicle had stopped, Granger raised her hands with an identification badge on her left.
“Whatever you do, do not be stupid about it.” she warned the passengers as the crew examined the vehicle. The soldier with Granger’s badge returned it to her, and motioned for everyone to get out.
Once all three guests had vacated the car and taken their weapons off, the troops escorted Nyechenko inside the hangar. McCain and Granger followed closely behind.
“He’s really lucky, you know.” McCain remarked. “He actually managed to survive, and now the virus is in safe hands. Let’s just hope his friend in London has actually prepared his house for a guest.”
This made Granger stop and turn around.
“What did you say?” she asked in suspicion.
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“Back at the safehouse, Nyechenko was texting someone on his phone. Said it was a friend in London.”
This news made Granger step back in horror.
“He had a phone this entire time?”
“Yeah, why?”
Silence. Granger then took the AK-74 and made sure it was loaded.
“What the fuck are you doing, Granger?” McCain asked in complete shock.
“Nyechenko’s not texting his friend. Never was, because his file indicated that he had no contacts in London.” she revealed. “It was a decoy contact; he’s working with Winter Snake.”
The sound of gunshots alerted the agents and all the soldiers, who rushed in, oblivious to the approach of a black Toyota Hiace and two UAZ-452 military vans from the woods.
McCain and Granger arrived too late.
There were bodies littered all over the concrete hangar floor, blood leaking from their wounds. Nyechenko stood over them, his Rsh-12 revolver in his right hand and a scalpel in his left. Once all the soldiers pointed their guns in his direction, he smirked and dropped the weapons, raising his hands in the air as he did so.
“Why?” Granger asked in a furious whisper. “Why did you betray us like this?”
Nyechenko did nothing for several seconds, before chuckling to himself.
“I never betrayed you, agent Granger.” Nyechenko mocked the agent. “Like I said last night, I have always served my country.”
That was when another round of gunfire exploded, this time targeting all the soldiers from their backs. McCain and Granger turned around, their eyes wide in horror.
An army of Spetsnaz soldiers had arrived at the hangar, wearing thick military garments that were a mixture of green and white, most likely to blend in. They also covered their mouths and noses with black scarfs, using their eyes as daggers. Nyechenko used this moment to rush forward, pull Granger by the hair and drag her close to him, making McCain turn around and point his shotgun at the mole.
“I recommend you drop your weapon, Mr. McCain.” Gorinsky’s Russian-infused accent advised. The Russian elite soldiers parted, leaving room for him and Kamensky to walk through. Granger attempted to struggle, but stopped as the professor pressed his revolver against her head. Looking around, McCain realised that he was powerless to stop their victory.
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He got down on one knee and slid the shotgun over to the mercenary, who used his right foot to stop the weapon. He then picked it up and examined it with a smile, before turning the butt to his captive and ramming it against his temple.
That was when everything went black.
Time, five minutes to nine in the morning.
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