Chapter 53

CHAPTER 53

"Nothing has changed," Harvath radioed his teammates as they began their pursuit and donned their raid vests and police armbands. "We stick with the plan. Keep following and wait for my command."

After the team in the van confirmed Harvath's order, Staelin, who was driving the sedan, looked at him. "Why the extra security all of a sudden?"

"Our operation in Monaco may have had a bigger impact than we anticipated."

"And now we've got double the Russian vehicles and double the Russian personnel to contend with," Staelin said. "The plan is going to have to change. Preisler and Johnson can't cover down on four guys across two cars."

"They won't have to," Harvath replied. "You and I will be responsible for the embassy security vehicle. Like I said, nothing has changed."

Technically, that was a change—a big one. Harvath and Staelin were supposed to remain with the sedan, prepared to handle any additional problems or threats that might roll up during the takedown of Elovik. But that was no longer an option.

As a former Delta Force operator, Staelin both appreciated the situation and the role that improvisation would need to play in its successful outcome. Nodding his head, he responded, "Roger that."

Up ahead, the two embassy cars turned right again and headed toward the Bois de Boulogne. Harvath and his team kept them in sight as they stayed a safe distance behind.

At the last red light before the park, Harvath instructed the team to ready their weapons and balaclavas.

When the light turned green, Elovik's vehicle and its security escort entered the Bois de Boulogne.

It was a good thing that Harvath and his team had given the Russians plenty of space. They were actually being professional and had run multiple surveillance detection routes—going all the way north to skirt the park's large lake and then doubling back at the Pavillon Royal. Despite their precautions, they appeared to have no clue that they were being followed.

With the element of surprise on his side, Harvath could pick any spot and any moment he wanted to spring his trap.

As the Russians crossed the Allée de Longchamp and headed into a densely wooded section of the park, they were sixty seconds away from one of the best ambush spots. Harvath alerted the team. That's where they would take Elovik.

Rolling his balaclava down over his face, he pushed the button to extend the retractable brace of his Flux Raider X PDW and made sure a round was chambered.

Looking at Staelin, he said, "There's a cutout in the shoulder up ahead."

"I remember it from the satellite imagery," the man replied.

Harvath nodded. "Let's get close, but not too close to the second car's rear bumper. We'll get out at the same time. I'm going to do a passenger-side approach. You'll be taking the driver."

"Good copy," Staelin replied as he rolled down his own balaclava.

Reaching into the bag at his feet, Harvath removed Staelin's MP5 SD, verified that it was charged and ready to fire, and then balanced it on his lap.

Studying the maps feature on his phone, he counted down over the radio, "One hundred and fifty meters… One hundred meters… Fifty meters… Now!"

Smoke from burning rubber filled the air as Haney slammed the van into the opposite lane, lights strobing and Klaxons blaring. As soon as he passed the Russians, he crossed back into their lane to box them in.

Staelin accelerated and Harvath watched the speedometer needle climb, willing the Renault to close the distance. Attaching the gumball to the roof, Harvath lit it up and activated the sedan's Klaxons. He could practically hear the Russians cursing in their cramped embassy vehicles as Haney and Staelin bullied them off the road, and forced them into the cutout.

Before the van had even come to a full stop, Preisler and Johnson had leapt out. They were both armed with suppressed Heckler & Koch UMPs.

Quickly they surrounded Elovik's vehicle, pointing their weapons at the security agents in the front seat.

As Staelin brought the Renault sedan to a stop and jammed it into park, Harvath handed him his weapon, opened his door, and rushed the security vehicle.

Speed, surprise, and overwhelming force of action was the intent. No matter what happened, they didn't want to give the Russians a single moment to think, much less react.

Closing in on the passenger in the front seat, Harvath trained his Trijicon red-dot sight on the back of the man's head.

"Hands!" he yelled in French, as Preisler and Johnson did the same at the vehicle in front. "Raise your hands!"

Suddenly, the world exploded. A spray of bullets erupted from the tree line, ripping through the air all around him.

"Contact right!" Harvath yelled, returning fire and diving behind the embassy security vehicle.

A sickening thud came from up front. Preisler's voice crackled over the radio, laced with panic. "Man down. Johnson's hit."

Harvath whipped around, his heart hammering his ribs. He struggled to see Johnson and gauge the severity of his injury.

As he did, figures poured out of the embassy vehicles, their Kalashnikov PPK-20 submachine guns spitting fire.

He and his team weren't ambushing the Russians. The Russians were ambushing them. They had walked right into a trap.