Deadly Crossing (Tom Dugan 2) (17 page)

“Stopped,” Nigel yelled. “That was a good one. A few more and we’ll be done.”

If I have ‘a few more’ in me
, thought Dugan, as he dropped back down.

“Let’s go for broke, junior. Just keep pushing and call out progress. Got it?”

“Ready when you are,” Nigel replied.

“One. Two. THREEE…” Dugan fired upward, straining for all he was worth.

“Stopped,” Nigel shouted, “just a bit more.”

Dugan fought the urge to suck in a lungful of the smoke-filled air and tried to ignore his burning muscles. He closed his eyes and thought of Anna’s face and strained harder still, oblivious to the pain.

“That’s it! That’s it! The board’s vertical and taking the weight.”

Dugan stumbled out from beneath the load, barely able to keep his feet, then gasped for breath and sucked in smoke instead. A coughing fit drove him to his knees, and as he struggled back to his feet, he squinted through the smoke toward the approaching inferno. The flames had reached the outer edges of the destroyed office area, and the heat was intense.

He stumbled toward the debris pile, and Nigel leaped to his side to help him wrestle the heavy section of destroyed wall off the desk. Seconds later they pulled the desk aside to reveal Anna’s inert form lying in a pool of blood. Dugan’s heart was in his throat as he dropped to her side and felt her carotid artery. Her pulse was weak but discernible, and Dugan gathered her in his arms and attempted to stand, but his exhausted legs betrayed him.

Nigel dropped down on Anna’s opposite side, and between them, they lifted her and stumbled through the wreckage, breathing near impossible and their vision obscured as dense smoke burned their eyes. Bits of debris burst into flame, and they coughed as they staggered on, barely able to breathe.

“Wh-where’s the window?” croaked Nigel. “Ca-can’t see…”

“Just mo-move away from… fire. Hi-hit front wall and fo-follow it left t-to window,” Dugan replied, with more certainty than he felt. Nigel stifled a cough, and they stumbled on, blind men in a maze.

“
Dyed
! Are you there?” came a voice.

“Here,” Dugan croaked, and relief washed over him as two hulking figures appeared through the smoke. Ilya plucked Anna from their grasp and disappeared back the way he came. Borgdanov inserted himself between Dugan and Nigel and pulled them along in Ilya’s wake.

“This way. Hold your breath,” Borgdanov gasped through the thickening smoke as he dragged them through the wreckage.

Dugan slipped on a loose board and went down, rising with difficulty as Borgdanov tugged him to his feet. His lungs screamed for oxygen, but he dare not take a breath. Smoke burned his eyes, and he could see nothing, so he squeezed his eyes shut and stumbled on, relying on the big Russian to lead them to safety. Then he felt cool air on his face and sucked in a lungful of air tinged with the acrid stench of smoke. He blinked away the tears and rushed toward the blurry vision of the window, a rectangular outline in the glow of the streetlights.

“We are at the window,” he heard Borgdanov say. “Watch your step—”

Dugan’s toe caught on the low windowsill, and he pitched forward, landing hard on the sidewalk among the shards of broken window glass.

***

He came to sometime later, lying on a gurney as the flashing lights atop various emergency vehicles washed over him. He blinked and tried to sit up, but hands gently restrained him.

“Easy, sir,” said a voice he didn’t recognize. “You’ve had a nasty spill and inhaled quite a lot of smoke.”

Dugan tried to speak, but there was something on his face. He tugged the oxygen mask free before the paramedic could stop him, and tried to sit up again.

“Anna,” he said. “You need to be helping her! I’m—”

“Easy,
Dyed
,” said Borgdanov’s voice from the other side of him. “Ilya put Anna directly in first ambulance. She is already at hospital, I think. This ambulance will take you and Nigel to hospital.”

The paramedic tried to put the oxygen mask back on, but Dugan pushed him away.

“How… how is she?” Dugan asked Borgdanov.

Borgdanov paused before answering. “Honestly, I do not know,
Dyed
. But she is alive, and she is strong woman,
da
?”

Chapter Twenty One

Waiting Room
Intensive Care Unit
St. Ignatius Hospital
London, UK

Dugan stole another glance at the clock on the wall and willed the time to pass, infuriated at the asinine hospital rules that allowed him only ten minutes at Anna’s side every hour. He rose from the uncomfortable chair and began to pace just as Borgdanov and Ilya entered the tiny waiting room.

“How is she?” Borgdanov asked.

“She lost a lot of blood, but we got her here in time,” Dugan said. “They repaired the damaged vein, and there was some muscle damage, but the doctor said she’ll make a full recovery. The doc also said she was very lucky. The bullet barely missed the femoral artery. An inch lower and she’d have bled out for sure.” Dugan paused and closed his eyes a moment, overcome by the thought of how close he’d come to losing her. Borgdanov rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and Dugan shook off the morbid thought and continued. “Anyway, she’s still heavily sedated. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her.”

Both the Russians gave relieved nods. “Is good,” Borgdanov said. “I told you she is strong woman,
da
? But what about you,
Dyed
? We went by your room first, but you were not there. Nurse did not seem so happy that you left against doctor’s advice.”

Dugan shrugged. “They were surprised to see me again after just releasing me from the crack on the head, so I think they’re just being overly cautious. But I’ve got a pretty thick skull, and I don’t have time to lie around in the hospital. As soon as I’m absolutely sure Anna’s going to be okay, we have to get across to the US and get Cassie and the others back.”

The Russians looked skeptical but said nothing, and Dugan changed the subject.

“How many did you save from the containers?”

Borgdanov’s face darkened. “Twenty-three,” he said through clenched teeth. “Eighteen women and five children. Three boys and two girls.”

No one spoke for a long moment. Finally Dugan broke the silence.

“How many…” he hesitated, “… didn’t make it?”

“All six policemen died, along with two of the
mafiya
bastards,” Borgdanov replied. “And they found the charred remains of eleven women — girls, really — in the cages. Obviously Arsov’s plan was for everyone to die.”

“Son of a bitch!”

Borgdanov shook his head. “No,
Dyed
, son of a bitch is too kind for this scum. I think there is no word for him, but there is one I would like very much to apply to him. Ilya and I will not rest until he is
dokhlyy
— dead.”

Ilya nodded, and Borgdanov lapsed into pensive silence for a moment before continuing.

“But we are few, and our priority is to rescue Karina, Cassie, and Tanya, but we cannot allow the trail of Arsov to grow cold either. We must be smart and careful.”

“How are we going to do both? Lou and Harry told me the police lost Arsov. I figure he’s out of the country by now.”

“I am working on plan,” Borgdanov said, “but for now we must—”

“Mr. Dugan?” said a nurse from the door of the waiting room.

Dugan turned to her. “Yes? Is Anna okay?”

The nurse smiled. “More than okay, Mr. Dugan. She’s fully awake and asking for you.” She glanced at the clock. “And I think under the circumstances we can relax the rules a bit.”

Intensive Care Unit
St. Ignatius Hospital
London, UK

Anna looked up and gave Dugan a wan smile as he slipped through the curtains surrounding the bed.

“This place is rather like being in a fishbowl,” she said, “but I did prevail upon the nurse to draw the curtains.”

Dugan moved to the left side of her bed. An IV tube sprouted from Anna’s right forearm, and on one finger of her right hand she wore a pulse monitor. Dugan took her left hand in both of his own and squeezed it gently.

“I’m told you’re my savior.”

“Well, I found you first, but if not for Nigel’s help and then Borgdanov and Ilya getting us out, it would’ve been over for all of us.”

Anna smiled. “Modest as always, I see.” Her smile faded. “Ho … how are McKinnon and his men? No one will tell me anything.”

Dugan was silent a long moment. “I’m sorry, Anna.”

“All of them?”

Dugan nodded, then squeezed her hand.

“Bloody hell!” She turned her head away as a tear coursed down her cheek.

She struggled to compose herself and turned back to Dugan.

“The hostages?”

“The Russians managed to save over half of them.” Dugan tried to soften the blow, but Anna wasn’t deceived by semantics.

“Which means almost half of them are dead. How many, Tom?”

“Don’t think about that now. Just worry about getting well.”

“How many?”

“Eleven,” Dugan replied softly and felt her flinch as if he’d struck her.

“What a complete fiasco.”

Dugan felt the deaths all over again, Anna’s pain combining with his own. He trembled when he thought how fragile life was and how close he’d come to losing her. He felt the ring box in his pocket and hesitated, but now was not the time. Not like this.

Suddenly the curtain parted, and the nurse appeared.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Dugan, but time’s up,” she said, not unkindly. “She needs her rest.”

Dugan bent down and kissed Anna’s lips, then pulled his face back a few inches.

“Rest now, and don’t think of anything but getting better.”

“I’ll concentrate on recovering, right enough, but don’t think I won’t be thinking of Arsov.” Her voice hardened. “Revenge is a powerful motivator.”

Dugan nodded, and Anna continued. “What are you going to do?”

“We have to go after Cassie and the others. Now that you’re out of immediate danger, we’ll leave tonight.”

Anna put her free hand behind his neck and pulled his face down to her. She kissed him tenderly, oblivious to the nurse clearing her throat at the curtain. She released him, and Dugan lifted his head to stare into her eyes.

“Do be careful, Tom,” she said softly.

Kairouz Residence
London, UK

Dugan shook his head. “I don’t like it, Andrei,” he said again. “You shouldn’t go back to Russia alone. Come with us on the rescue, and we’ll deal with Arsov after we’ve freed the girls.”

“I don’t like it either,
Dyed
, but we have no choice. I am sure Arsov is back with his superiors now, or soon will be, and the
Bratstvo
will know who we are. They will not take this lying down, and you can be sure they will retaliate. We must now, as you say, fight the war on two fronts,
da
?”

“Which is exactly why you going back to Russia alone makes no sense. If you insist on going, at least take Ilya to watch your back.”

Borgdanov shook his head. “You do not know what resistance you will meet on ship, and while Agent Ward can maybe get you transport and logistical support, this is still an ‘unofficial’ matter as far as the US is concerned, and I don’t think he can provide manpower. That leaves only you and young Nigel here to go on ship. Maybe you need help, and maybe not, but I do not think people on ship will just nicely deliver the girls to you. And if you must ‘persuade’ them…” he paused and nodded at Ilya, “I think Ilya is handy fellow to have around. And besides, I cannot ask Ilya to abandon the rescue of Karina and the others. Is primary mission,
da
?”

Beside Borgdanov, Ilya nodded his agreement.

“Still, I don’t see what you can accomplish in Russia alone, other than get yourself killed.”

“I think Mr. Dugan is right,” Nigel added. “I can’t see what you can accomplish alone in Russia either, but you would be an obvious asset on the rescue mission.”

Dugan saw Borgdanov stiffen a bit at Nigel’s implied criticism, and then visibly relax. Nigel’s role in Anna’s rescue had done much to raise the others’ opinion of his usefulness, and he was now accepted as a member — though very much a junior one — of the team.

“Thank you for your high regard for my usefulness, Nigel,” Borgdanov said, “but you and
Dyed
should not worry so about me. I am not so easy to kill, and Russia is my home. If all goes as planned, the
Bratstvo
bastards will not even know I’m there until I want them to know.”

“But still, what can you do alone?” Nigel pressed.

“That is just the point. I do not plan on being alone. There are plenty of Russians who are sickened by what the
mafiya
and the corrupt politicians who protect them are doing to our country. Good people, many ex-
Spetsnaz
among them, who would like to do something about it.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Dugan said, “but even if you recruit a few, I don’t see you making much of an impact. This is a huge problem.”

“But I am not trying to solve the whole problem,
Dyed
. The
mafiya
is too entrenched, and nothing will happen to them unless and until the government moves against them, and this will not happen. I also understand that even if I succeed in hurting this branch — this
Bratstvo
, another group of scum will arise to begin trading girls, drugs, and all the rest. My goal is not to solve the problem, because that is impossible, rather I only seek to make them leave us in peace.”

“That’s still a pretty tall order,” Dugan said.

“True, but I know they will attempt to retaliate, and our choice is to sit here and wait for them to do so at the time and place of their own choosing, or to surprise them by striking first. You must understand that everything these bastards do is by calculation, and their brutality is by design, to intimidate their rivals. But we are not their rivals. They will only attack us now because we have annoyed them and they think we are weak, so punishing us will be easy. However, if we succeed in hitting them first, they will understand that retaliation against us will not be so easy. If they also realize we are not potential rivals attempting to take over their territories, the profit motive will be missing, and they will not be so eager to continue the attack. They are both bullies and businessmen. When faced with resistance, bullies turn away, and businessmen will not invest time and resources if there is no profit at the end of the operation.”

“So essentially, your plan is to sucker punch them and hope it makes them go away,” Dugan said.

Borgdanov nodded. “If ‘sucker punch’ means what I think it does, then
da
— that is my plan.”

“And what if they don’t stop coming?”

Borgdanov shrugged. “For sure, they will stop temporarily, to figure out what is happening. Then if they come after us again, I think they will concentrate on those of us who have hurt them. You who have helped us here in UK will be a minor concern, quickly forgotten.” Borgdanov nodded both at Dugan and also Alex and Gillian, who had been sitting quietly, watching the exchange. “We will, as they say, draw their fire.”

“Now see here, Andrei,” Alex said, “we can’t let you do that. Surely the authorities—”

Borgdanov held up his hand. “Alex, my friend, your authorities must play by certain rules, while the
Bratstvo
bastards have none. And how can they protect you, really? One lone assassin can come into the country, kill you all, and escape. Do you want to spend the rest of your life living in fear for Gillian and Cassie?” Borgdanov shook his head. “No. We brought these people to your door, and we will lead them away.” He turned and looked at Ilya. “
Da
?”

“
Da
,” Ilya agreed.

“Lead them away where?” Dugan asked. “Aren’t you forgetting something? What about Ilya and Karina’s family, and the people you recruit to help you and all of their families? Surely nowhere in Russia, or even Europe will be safe for them.”

Borgdanov nodded. “Is for this, I will need a bit more help.”