Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Durango

I learned again why I like working with Harding. Apparently, her superior wanted us to meet all day to come up with our plan to extract Damien, the HVT. Harding said we wouldn't be spending a day chatting about our plans but would instead figure it out on the flight over to Belarus. And that's what we are doing now.

Damien is the high-value target, and he's being held by some ruthless men who believe Damien has information they want. According to a source Harding won't name, the target hasn't been harmed yet. But it's only a matter of time if he doesn't talk.

We must get him out of there before he speaks. While I don't know what he might say, Harding told us his knowledge is about weapons being sold from one party to another. That's information someone will kill for if it's the right weapons. Or spend a hell of a lot of money.

I was surprised when I arrived at the airport this morning and spotted Rover. He works in Seattle at Morgan Thompson Security. It's not unusual for us to all work together since my boss, Stormy Thompson, owns part of RHS and MTS. What is unusual is we are starting out in New York, so if Harding wanted a third person, I figured she would have asked for someone from our office. I know for a fact that Axel is available.

"Each of you was chosen for this assignment because of your skills," Harding says. "Durango is fluent in Russian."

Rover turns to me. "You are? How do I not know this?"

I shrug. "Hasn't come up."

"And it's imperative that no one outside of us learns of this. He's going to be our ears when Damien thinks we can't understand what he's communicating."

"Who would he be communicating with if we take him into custody?" Moose asks.

Harding stares at Moose. "You're the new guy, right?"

Moose's eyes narrow. "Yeah."

"Welcome aboard. To answer your question, you're right. He shouldn't be communicating with anyone. But if things go sideways, we want to be prepared." She turns to Rover. "Rover is here because of his ability to flirt."

I arch a brow. "You're kidding, right?"

Harding doesn't crack a smile. "I don't kid when I'm working."

That is the truth. I glance at Rover and shake my head. "If they find any of us inside their compound, I think we'll need more than someone who can flirt."

"Hey!" Rover says. "I've got deadly flirting skills, so you can back the hell off." He cracks a smile, and I chuckle.

"Rover won't be inside the compound," Harding says.

Rover frowns. "Who the hell do you want me to distract with my skills? And it better stop at flirting because if there is anything more, Connie will not only kick my ass but also yours."

Harding holds her hand up. "I only need you to be your charming self. I'll explain more later." She turns her gaze back to Moose. "Moose, you are in excellent physical condition and are essential if we have to carry Damien out."

"Hey!" I say.

"No offense, Durango. You are still recovering. But I need you to be listening, not running while carrying a man. And Rover won't be inside the compound, as I've mentioned."

As her words sink in, I try not to be offended. It's true. If I'm supposed to be listening, I need to focus. Although if it is Damien I'm supposed to be listening to, I could still do it carrying him.

"When we arrive in Minsk, we will be meeting up with another CIA agent who is based there and a pilot she trusts. The pilot will fly us from Minsk to an area outside of the compound. A car will be waiting for us, and we will proceed from there. It's going to be a long day and night. I suggest you grab a nap on this flight if you can. Do you have any questions?"

Moose had a lot of questions, so we listened as she detailed as much as she could to him. He's not used to working with Harding the way we are. She does things her way and isn't a fan of explaining why. Her way is usually right, and as far as she's concerned, it doesn't need explaining.

But today, she's being patient and actually answering questions. After she finishes, we each grab a nap before the plane lands.

"We still have to go through customs," Harding says. "But it will go fast. Here are your passports."

The line is short, and as we approach the guard, we hand him the passports. Harding had some made specifically for this assignment.

The guard scans our photos into a computer at his station. He asks Harding where we are going. In Russian. She tells him we are here to see our father, who is ill. The man nods, opens the gate, and lets us through.

Once we are out of earshot, I ask Harding about it. "Ill father? Does this mean we are all siblings?"

Harding smiles at me. "It does."

Harding leads us to a parking lot next to the airport. She reaches above the front tire and pulls out a set of keys before getting into the driver's seat.

"Shotgun!" Moose yells.

I glance at Rover, who rolls his eyes. Moose learned that from Lightning.

For the next two hours, we drive through marshlands and a forest before turning in to the parking lot of a small airport.

"We are meeting my colleague and the pilot here," Harding says. "He will fly us to another airport, and we will drive from there. We have to keep going because we need to get to the compound before dark."

It's summer, so the sun sets late here, and we have a few hours of daylight left.

Harding parks and then turns to us. "Neither of them can know Durango understands Russian. Understood?"

"You don't trust your colleague?" I ask.

"I've never met the pilot. Better to be safe than sorry," she says.

"But they're aware you are fluent, right?" I ask.

"They are. If the pilot or Damien say anything, it won't be while I'm around."

Instead of going through the building in front of us, Harding leads us around the side to the back, where there is a plane and a man and a woman waiting.

"Daphne Davis, nice to see you again," she says as we approach.

A woman in black jeans and a T-shirt turns and smiles. "Cara Harding, good to see you, too." She takes her hand and shakes it.

"This is our pilot, Vlad. Vlad, this is Harding."

"And this is my team," Harding says, motioning to us.

"You need to get to Staiki? There is no airport there," Vlad says.

Harding gives Davis a look.

Davis grimaces and turns to Vlad, holding up her phone. "There is a field here. This will do."

Vlad stares at the phone.

"Is this a problem?" Davis asks as she holds up some money.

Vlad smiles. "No problem. Short flight."

"You were supposed to have the destination arranged before we got here," Harding says to Davis as we get onto the plane.

It's a ten-seater, so we aren't cramped.

Davis nods. "I had. My pilot had some sort of last-minute emergency. He sent his friend, Vlad, instead."

I stiffen upon hearing this news. "How do we know we can trust him?" I ask.

"We don't," Davis says.

Harding was right not to trust the pilot, since now it appears no one really knows him. Fortunately, he flies us to the field, and we land safely. But instead of taking off after we disembark, he steps off the plane, too.

"Do you need a ride? I have a friend I can call," Vlad says.

"No, we'll be fine," Harding says. "You can leave now."

Vlad holds up his hands and steps back into the plane. Harding walks toward the road, and the rest of us follow. After about half a mile, she turns down a long driveway. I've worked with her enough not to ask questions. I'll bet money she has a car waiting here somewhere.

Soon enough, a small cabin and vehicle come into view.

Harding reaches under the driver's side and retrieves a key with a magnetic key chain. She opens the door and glances at us. "Get in."

All five of us cram into a medium-sized car. Moose manages to get the front seat again. Since Rover and I are tall, we are cramped in the back. Davis ended up squished between us.

"How long is the drive?" Davis asks, surprising me.

I figured she'd be in the know as to where we are going.

"Not long," Harding says. "When we get there, we will discuss the details."

We drive farther into the woods, making a few turns, before Harding pulls to the side of the road. "We're on foot from here."

We get out of the car, and she pops the trunk open, revealing a large black box. She opens it and hands us each a gun.

"I hope none of you need these, as it will alert the captors of our presence. Rover, before we get to the compound, I'll drop you at a restaurant. That is where you will stay until you meet your contact." She hands him a phone. "There's a bar inside where you will sit, drink soda, and listen."

Rover frowns. "Listen for what? I don't understand Russian."

Harding nods. "Listen for the contact. She's the woman with the British accent. That is Damien's wife, Sylvia. She has information for us. She'll talk as long as you say the correct phrase."

Rover grins. "Is this some kind of joke? This sounds like it's from a movie."

Harding doesn't smile. "It's not a joke. When you find her, go up to her and say, ‘The orange juice is magnificent here.'"

Rover's brows shoot up real fast, but he recovers. "All right. The orange juice is magnificent here. Got it. Where does the flirting come in?"

"That's what you'll do to get her to follow you back to our meetup spot, which I will point out when we cross it."

Rover grins. "Why don't I just ask her to follow me?"

"If that works, go for it," Harding says.

Rover frowns. I'm also questioning his real purpose, but for whatever reason, Harding must not want to tell him.

"The rest of us will be going into the compound." Harding pulls out phones from the box in the trunk. "My number is programmed in. That's how I will give the final command to retrieve Damien."

Before anyone can ask any questions, Harding takes off into the woods. We all follow. Once we hear voices, she stops and turns to us.

"The restaurant is down there. This is our meeting spot. Rover, we won't be back for several hours, so you might want to keep Sylvia entertained if she arrives early." Harding hands him a wad of rubles from her pocket. "This should cover your tab."

Rover takes the money and leaves us. We continue walking until Harding motions for us to go off of the path and over to the edge of the hillside. We crouch down, and then we see it—the compound. It's much larger than I expected. There is a fence surrounding a very large house. Well, it appears to be three houses that are all connected with covered walkways. The fence surrounds all the structures, and there is a gate on the side nearest us with a guard.

Harding points to the far side and whispers, "We will make our way over the fence at the back. There is a tree we can use. Once inside the fence, Durango and Moose will take the right side, Davis and I will take the left side." She motions for us all to go back to the pathway.

"Once we go our separate ways, each one of you will need to make your way into the building and hide in a closet or any enclosed space. You will remain there until I give the signal via a text message, which will be after dark. There is one guard at the front of the building. At sunset, they change guards. My contact has been watching this building for two days. He states the two guards pass by the front gate and talk for at least ten minutes each day. Apparently, they are friends. During that time, we will grab Damien and get him out the way we came in. Any questions?"

No questions. We hike down the hillside instead of using a main road. Harding leads us to the back of the fence, and as she said, there is a tree we climb in order to get over the fence. Moose and I head to one side of the compound while the rest of our team heads to the other side. The building appeared large from the lookout point, but now that we are here, the enclosed space isn't very big. There are three long, rectangular buildings, all connected with covered porches.

I lead the way inside. Being as quiet as possible, I open the door slowly. It's one big room that is lit with only the light coming in from the windows. Moose closes the door as we take in the space. There are no closets, no furniture, nothing.

I check the floor for loose floorboards. There might be some secret room below.

"Psst!" Moose calls.

I glance up, and he's motioning to the curtains. He's standing behind one. They are long and go all the way to the floor. Once he pulls it around him, I can't tell he's there. It's perfect. I wrap myself behind a curtain as well.

And just in time. The door creaks open. Who the hell could that be? Harding said no one would be coming through here.

Two sets of footsteps walk into the room. Then, two men speak in Russian.

"There's been a change. Claude is ill, and Ian will be coming instead. He'll be an hour late."

"I understand," the other man says. "Why not tell me at my post?"

"Damien's people are watching us and can read lips. Now, back to work."

The curtains are so dusty, and I can feel the sneeze coming on. Please leave now! I will them with my mind.

Their footsteps move toward the door very slowly. I pinch my nose, willing it not to do anything. Finally, a door clicks shut. I peek out to verify they've gone as I keep pinching my nose. Once I can't hold it back any longer, I bury my face in my sleeve to muffle the noise. But it's loud. I listen in case the men come back. But they don't. Thankfully, the walls of this building are thick.

"Do you think they suspect we are here? Because that sounded like it was for our benefit," Moose says.

I turn to him. "You understood what they said?"

Moose grins. "I did. My grandmother spoke Russian. Usually, she only cursed about the tiny town in Montana we were living in. But she also taught me the language."

"Why did I not know this?"

He shrugs. "You've been busy recuperating."

He's right about that. I grab the phone Harding gave me from my pocket and send her a message about what just happened.

Harding: My contact reported the front guard leaving his post from time to time. Now we know why. No change to the plan.

"No change to the plan," I tell Moose.

He nods, and we move back into the curtains to wait.