Conviction (2009)

Hansen said, "You and Grim put some thought into this, didn't you?"

Fisher nodded.

"How long do we wait?" asked Valentina.

"Depends on where the Ajax bots go and how long it takes the Sikorsky to leave."

THEYgot the answer to their first question two hours later, when Hansen called out from where he was sitting against the tu

Fisher got the topographical map, unfolded it on the Lada's hood, and found the spot Hansen had indicated. It sat two-thirds of the way between Ayaya Bay and a smaller V-shaped lake called Frolikha. "Middle of nowhere," he said. "The perfect spot for a black-market auction."

"I don't see any roads," Gillespie said.

"You're right. We're going to need a boat."

THESikorsky returned shortly before noon and spent two hours flying up and down the shoreline, using Sludjanka Lake as a datum. Several times it passed directly over the cliffs outside the tu

As the afternoon wore on the team members grew restless, pacing the tu

"Communications." Gillespie began laying out the equipment. "We'll all have hands-free, voice-activated headsets and microphones. We synced them to the OPSATs. They're not SVTs or subdermals, but they'll get the job done." She do

"We also jury-rigged a flexicam," Valentina said. "It's primitive--no night vision, EM, or infrared, but the picture's fairly clear."

"Good work," Fisher said. "Ben?"

Hansen laid out their makeshift uniforms: wool-lined black cargo-style pants and heavy black sweaters, a dual layer of silk long underwear, fingerless mittens, and full balaclavas.

Fisher nodded, turned to Noboru. "Time to unveil your project."

Noboru walked to the Lada, pulled a duffel from the backseat, and returned. He laid out the modified paintball guns and launchers and ran through the operation and specifications. "Hold on," he said. "Forgot the CO cartridges."

Moments later he called, "Ah, goddamn it . . ."

"What?" Fisher called.

"Better come see for yourself."

Fisher and the others walked to the rear of the Lada. Noboru was standing beside the open tailgate. Fisher felt his stomach lurch. He leaned into the cargo area and looked around.

Ames was gone.

AFTERpassing out the Groza assault rifles, Fisher left Hansen and Valentina at the tu

"Nothing," Noboru said.

"Me neither," replied Gillespie. "I counted nine side tu

"No," Fisher said. "Forget him."

"Forget him?" Noboru repeated. "This is Ames we're talking about. After what he did--"

"We've got what we need from him. He's irrelevant now," Fisher said. This was only partially true. Ames had given Hansen the location of his insurance stash against Kovac, but if the case ever saw the inside of a courtroom, without Ames a conviction was uncertain. Right now, however, his team didn't need such worries clouding their thinking. "Focus on the mission," Fisher told them.

THEYwaited until nightfall, then packed up and left the tu

"Early to bed, early to rise," Gillespie muttered.

"Not much nightlife on a Tuesday night in Severobaikalsk," replied Noboru.

Fisher started the engine. "Let's go steal ourselves a boat."

36

WITHits hundreds of river outlets, Lake Baikal's surface generally stays ice free until mid January and clears by the end of May, but this year was an exception, Fisher found as they reached the middle of the lake and the first pancake ice chunks began scraping down the hull. In both boats the team members looked around warily. From his seat in the bow Fisher spread his hands in the baseball "safe" signal. The ice was too brittle and thin to damage the hulls of their johnboats. So shallow were their drafts that in the worst case the flat bottom rectangular craft could skim over the ice with little trouble.

As it was still early in the season, the tiny Severobaikalsk marina had offered them few choices of transportation: sailboats, fishing trawlers with diesel engines, or skiff-sized craft like their johnboats. The electric trolling motors were virtually silent, if not particularly powerful: After two hours of travel they were only halfway to Ayaya Bay.

Fisher do

The fog enveloped them.

WITHno points of reference except for occasional glimpses of the neighboring boat in the swirling fog, time seemed to slow. In Fisher's boat Gillespie had moved to the stern to help Valentina navigate; Hansen and Noboru had teamed up in the other. The steady hum of the electric motors had a lulling effect on Fisher. The days and weeks of being on the run, of infrequent and insufficient sleep, were catching up to him. He leaned over the side, scooped up a handful of icy water, and splashed his face.

He checked his OPSAT. Five miles to go.

ATtwo miles Fisher signaled to Valentina to cut the engine; Hansen heard this and did the same. They drifted ahead until the boats came to a halt and began gently rocking. For ten minutes they sat still, listening. They heard nothing but the lapping of water against the hulls. Fisher sca