Black Harvest (The PROJECT) (12 page)

Nick shot the first man and dove for cover behind the stone altar. A second later Ronnie followed.
Selena dropped to the floor.
Everyone began firing. Muzzle blasts lit the crypt at both ends, painting the skulls and bones in brief flashes. The noise of the guns filled the cave. Fragments of ancient bone spiraled into the air. He felt the wind of passing bullets. Rounds ricocheted from the walls and the altar and whined around the cave in the dark. The second shooter went down. Then the third.

Silence. Nick's ears were ringing. No one else came out of the passage.

"Anyone hit?"

"No." Selena's voice was tight. "This damn floor is hard."

"Me neither." Ronnie's voice was soft.

"I'm moving right." Nick shuffled to the right, came to Selena climbing to her feet.

"Stay behind me. Don't get too close."

He felt his way along the wall. His hand touched bone, teeth, the rough edge where an eye had been. He jerked his hand back and kept moving. He reached the passage.

Selena and Ronnie came up behind.

Three bodies lay by the entrance to the passage. They weren't moving. Blood pooled around them. A lot of blood. Their bowels had let go. The stench made Nick choke.

Selena stepped over them without thinking. She'd taken four steps before she realized what she'd just done. Three dead men. She might as well have stepped over bags of trash, for all the feeling she had about it. The realization rocked her.

"What do you think, Ronnie?" Nick's voice was quiet.

"Might be more around the corner. Bound to be more upstairs."

"It's like Fallujah. Remember that factory?"

"Yeah, I remember."

Nick crouched down and took a fast look around the corner.

"It's clear to the steps."

The steps were only wide enough for one person at a time. Anyone up top would have a clean shot at them as they came out.

"Fallujah, we had grenades. This sucks, Kemo Sabe."

"Kemo Sabe? You going native on me?"

"I always wanted to say that. Tonto always said that to the Lone Ranger when the shit was about to hit the fan. Kemo Sabe. Has a nice ring to it."

"What does it mean?"

"You don't want to know."

Selena said, "If you're done..." They turned to her. "How do we get out of here?"

"The altar's not far away, ahead and to the right. We go up one at a time and get behind it." Nick grinned at her. "Fast."

He ran up the stairs and came out of the opening and rolled forward behind the altar. The sound of an Uzi on full auto echoed in the church above. The screens behind the altar shattered. Shards of old wood bounced down the steps. They heard Nick's .45 lay down covering fire.

"You last. We'll cover you."

Ronnie went up the stairs like Nick had done and disappeared. In a second Selena heard his Glock. Overhead it sounded like World War III. She pictured the altar, the space behind it. She took a deep breath. The adrenaline kicked in and she ran up the stairs.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Alexei Ivanovich tapped his fingers on his desk . His day had just become far more difficult. He looked at the flash drive in his hand and thought about what it contained. He read the note again. It was printed in English.

Do not jump to conclusions. In this matter, the Project is with you.

It was signed.

A friend.

The package and note had arrived by UPS that morning. Alexei had gotten many odd communications over the years. Sometimes in a dark street at night. Sometimes by official notice. Sometimes in a hard room where unbearable pain was the prelude to truth.

Never by way of UPS. He knew the trail would lead nowhere if he traced it. The video featured the Director of the American CIA talking about a plot against Russia, code named Demeter.

Do not jump to conclusions.

Alexei translated the meaning. Don't make a quick judgment without knowing the facts. Therefore, don't take uninformed action. It was an American idiom. It was logical to assume an American had sent it. Why would an American send such a damaging video to him?

In this matter, the Project is with you.

The sender must be someone in the American intelligence agencies. No one else would know about the Project or how to get the video to Alexei.

Alexei knew he should go to his boss. If he did, all hell would break loose. The Kremlin was paranoid enough without this.

Do not jump to conclusions.

Someone wanted him to know the Director of American Central Intelligence plotted against Russia. Someone wanted him stopped and wanted Alexei's help. Someone wanted him to see the Project as an ally.

Only one explanation made sense. It wasn't a sanctioned operation. That made it a danger to both nations. Alexi considered the possibility the video was part of a larger scheme with a hidden end in mind, suspect as three day old fish in the market. If it wasn't faked it was the kind of thing that could lead to war. Alexei didn't think it was faked.

Vysotsky sometimes felt he lived in a world of brittle mirrors, a world of infinite reflections and possible realities, one within the other to infinity. Truth was out there, but it was often unpleasant and hard to find.

Do not jump to conclusions.

The Project was small. SVR was massive. The Project had no ability to mount any significant operation within Russia. SVR had all the resources it needed to do exactly that. The situation was reversed in America. The Project could operate there in ways Alexei could not. The bow was drawn in America, but the arrow was aimed at Russia. Whoever had sent the video wanted an alliance of convenience against a common enemy.

Alexei made a decision. He picked up his satellite phone and called Korov.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Korov followed Gelashvili and the Americans to the church of St. George. The church was well back from the paved road, isolated on the side of a hill. It was reached by a long gravel drive in poor repair. Abandoned buildings dotted the slope above it. He parked a hundred feet away and considered his next move.

His phone vibrated. Only General Vysotsky had that number.

"Yes."

"Things have changed. What is your situation?"

"Gelashvili has followed the Americans. They are all in a church outside Bankya. He will try to kill them."

"You will prevent that. Kill Gelashvili. Protect the Americans. Do not reveal yourself."

"Protect the Americans?"

"At all costs. Repeat your orders."

"Kill Gelashvili. Protect the Americans."

Gunshots echoed inside the church.

"Sir. Shooting in the church."

"You have your orders."

The connection terminated.

Arkady put the phone back in his pocket and drew the Drotik from his shoulder holster. He ran to the church, pulled open the door and slipped inside. 

In the rainbow light coming through the stained glass window, Korov saw Gelashvili and two of his men halfway down the main aisle. They crouched behind pews, firing in bursts toward the front of the church. Two pistols answered from behind the altar. As he watched, a woman come up out of the floor and rolled forward behind the altar, firing three shots as she went.

One of Gelashvili's men crawled to a side aisle and moved toward the front. A large, life-like painted statue of Mary decked in a blue robe and golden crown shielded him from the altar. In a moment he would have an angle on the Americans.

The Drotik was an accurate pistol. The 5.6 mm rounds were high velocity, flat trajectory. Korov was an excellent marksman. It was an easy shot. He raised the pistol, flicked the selector to full and touched the trigger. The sound ripped through the air like tearing cloth. Zviad's man cried out and sprawled lifeless on the church floor.

Behind the altar, Nick turned to Ronnie.

"What the hell was that?"

"Don't know. Not an Uzi."

"Shit."

More shots. The ripping sound again, a cry of mortal pain. Nick looked out from behind the altar. A large, bearish man rose between the pews. He screamed in rage, firing at someone in the back of the church. The ripping sound came again, accompanied by a brilliant second or two of muzzle flash. The bearish man looked down and put a hand on his chest. He swayed. He fell forward, crashing into the pews.

Someone ran to the entrance and disappeared outside.

"Hey!" Nick yelled after him. He heard a car start, tires spinning on gravel, an engine fading into the distance.

The church was silent as the crypt below. They stood and walked down among the pews. Ronnie pointed at a body spread eagled on the floor.

"That one over there. Would have had a clear shot if someone hadn't interfered."

"Yeah. A good Samaritan. With a high end auto pistol."

"Not American or European."

"Something we haven't heard before."

Selena still had the Glock in her hand.
She looked down at the dead men.
"Who are they?"

"I don't know. Looking at the clothes, I'd say it might be the same bunch that tried to grab you in Greece."

He pushed at Gelashvili's dead bulk with his shoe. "Lousy cut. Someone ought to clue these people in about their tailor."

CHAPTER THIRTY

"Did you have to shoot up a church?" Harker sounded annoyed.

Nick held the phone in his left hand. His right wrapped around a whiskey. Sofia at night filled the view from the window. The lights were on, the city a fairytale picture of domes and old buildings. The dark shape of the Balkans loomed against a night sky filled with glittering stars. It was like something from a Walt Disney movie. The only things missing were Pinocchio and Jiminy Cricket.

"No choice. They picked the spot. They called the game. They lost. Simple as that."

Nick contemplated the lights of the city. He was coming down from the fight in the church. He felt edgy, wired. His hand gripped the whiskey. How many more times was he going to do this before his luck ran out?

"The men you shot were from the same gang that tried to take Selena in Greece. One of them was Zviad Gelashvili. You took out one of the biggest Russian crime bosses in the world."

"It wasn't us who killed him."

"What do you mean?"

"Someone else is in the game. One man."

"Why didn't you say so before?"

"Hadn't gotten to it. Now I have."

"Who?"

"I don't know. He used a specialized pistol. Full auto, very high rate of fire. Small rounds. Can't be many of those."

"That sounds military."

"Has to be."

"Gelashvili was based in Moscow. Maybe it was Russian."

"Why would the Russians help us out?"

"Maybe they didn't. Maybe they just wanted Gelashvili. He was a problem for them."

"They know who we are. Helping us doesn't make sense."

Nick heard her sigh over the phone. "What about that urn?"

"What about it? There's nothing to tell us what happened to it. No leads at all."

"You're sure?"

"Unless Selena can turn something up. There wasn't anything under that church."

"All right. If you can't get any new intel, come home."

"Roger that." Nick put down the phone.

Selena came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a white robe. Her hair was unkempt, damp. She'd had several drinks before she went into the bathroom. She had a whiskey in her hand. She drained it and poured another from the bottle. It was her fifth, or maybe her sixth. Nick had never seen her drink that much, especially whiskey. Selena was a wine drinker. Hard liquor wasn't her thing.