Endgame (2009)

Once they were alone, Hansen glanced down at Ames, then reached into the man's right front pocket, where Ames kept his Zippo lighter.

"Maybe Fisher wouldn't roast you alive," Hansen began. "But you can rest assured, I will. Let's start at the begi

"Grim found me, but he recruited me only a week after that."

"How could you do this to us?"

"It's only business. And, by the way, your buddy Sergei? He worked for us, too."

Hansen's eyes grew wider. He bared his teeth, then flipped open the lighter.

"Careful with that!" cried Ames. "I'm telling you this because I'm willing to talk. I've got enough stuff on Kovac to put him away forever, and you guys will need that, so you don't want to hurt me. I'm your ticket to bringing him down. Do you understand me, cowboy?"

"I told you--"

"I can call you whatever I want--because I still hold all the cards here."

"You could've fooled me, tied up to a bed, about to be burned alive. What else do you know about the auction?"

"As much as you. He keeps me on a strict diet. But you have to believe that I can help you."

THEfront passed, and the team was able to get an early start, putting in about ninety minutes of road time before sunrise. Fisher drove the lead SUV while Hansen followed behind. Hansen and Fisher had cleaned up Ames, tied him once more, and stuffed him in the cargo area of Fisher's SUV, where he remained, although Hansen was certain the guy still smelled like gasoline. Hansen hadn't been able to get anything else out of him.

After another few miles of travel, Hansen's OPSAT beeped with incoming intel from Grim. Qaderi was moving again. He was already outside Severobaikalsk and heading--and this was odd--heading southback toward them.

Fisher suddenly stopped his SUV, backed up, and followed a side road that splintered off the main one and wandered into walls of pine trees.

"Where's he going?" asked Gillespie.

Hansen shrugged. "I don't know."

39

NEAR SLUDJANKA LAKE, RUSSIAN FEDERATION

THEmountains were haloed in pink and orange as the sun began to rise, and Hansen continued following Fisher up and into the woods and inland. It now seemed clear that Fisher was putting them on an intercept course with Qaderi, following the heavily rutted and snow-covered path through a series of tortuous runs. Fisher shut off his headlights, and Hansen did likewise. Visibility was limited but the sun was rising fast.

They swept around yet another curve, and then, off to their right, peeking out from below a carpet of trees that unfurled to the shoreline, lay the calm, cool waters of a small lake, perhaps a half mile wide.

"I know where we are," said Gillespie. "Sludjanka Lake."

"Maybe this is it. Maybe we're here," said Hansen.

"Ben, there's another SUV on the other side of the lake," said Valentina, staring through her binoculars. "That's the target."

Fisher pulled along the side of the road, their vehicles hidden behind the thick stands of pine trees. They met between the cars. Hansen asked Fisher if this was the auction site. Fisher wasn't sure and lifted his own binoculars. "I'm not sure if that's Qaderi."

With everyone hidden behind the trucks, they watched as the SUV stopped at the top of a gradually sloping hill overlooking the lake. Hansen zoomed in and watched as the front passenger door opened and a man came out. He turned around, leaned back into the car, and took out a briefcase. When he turned back, his face was illuminated in the rising sun.

Hansen had reviewed the file photo of Aariz Qaderi. This was not him. "What the hell is this?" he asked Fisher.

"I think Qaderi just got uninvited to the auction."

With his back to them, the man opened the briefcase, sifted through its contents, then rose and just stood there for about ten minutes.

Fisher made an affirmative grunt, as though he knew what was about to happen.

From the east came the whomping of a helicopter, and soon a blue and white Sikorsky S-76, a medium-sized single-rotor chopper, swooped down over the lake, hovered, then landed behind the SUV. The cabin door opened, and out rushed four men. They, along with the driver of the SUV, rolled the car over the edge of the hill and sent it plummeting toward the lake.

The SUV hit the icy water with a significant splash, then, amid the waves and foam, began to sink.

That the chopper had approached from the east and remained on that side of the lake was the only thing that saved the team from being spotted, Hansen thought with a shiver. Hopefully, they would not fly overhead. Otherwise, game over.

"They must've known Qaderi was tagged," said Valentina, her breath hanging on the air.

And Hansen bet that Kovac had tipped them off.

Fisher agreed and mentioned that Grim had briefed Kovac a few hours before but had left out any mention of Ajax, so Kovac had probably assumed standard Third Echelon-issue beacons.

Hansen checked his OPSAT. "The bots are heading due east at 150 miles per hour."

Fisher said they needed to hide. He'd explain why later.

HANSENfound an abandoned mica mine built into the cliffs a mile west of the lake. It took them an hour to reach it, and they backed the SUVs into the broad main tu

Noboru asked Fisher to explain why they were hiding, and Fisher obliged:

"They killed Qaderi because Kovac reported the trackers. Grim told Kovac we were still in Irkutsk, and the weather was causing problems with the GPS. That's why the Sikorsky didn't look for anyone tailing Qaderi's car. My gut tells me they'll be back--about the time we would have arrived if we'd left Irkutsk when Kovac thinks we did."

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 nanobots go and how long it takes the Sikorsky to leave."

TWOhours later the chopper resounded in the distance, confirming Fisher's suspicions, and after its search over the lake and foothills, the bird touched down 30 miles due east of their position, about 1.5 miles inland from Ayaya Bay. The location was about two-thirds of the way between the bay and a calmer, V-shaped lake called Frolikha.

"Middle of nowhere," said Fisher. "The perfect spot for a black-market auction."

Hansen said that location was on the other side of the lake. Gillespie added that there weren't any roads to get around the lake. Fisher agreed. "We're going to need a boat."

They would have to wait, though, because Fisher warned them that the chopper would no doubt return. And it did, shortly before noon, spending several more hours searching for them. During that time, they checked their gear and Gillespie discussed the operation of the hands-free headsets she and Valentina had found as well as a jury-rigged flexicam they'd constructed. Hansen showed them all the black uniforms and web gear he'd bought, along with full balaclavas. Noboru unveiled his paintball project, then mentioned that he'd forgotten something out in the SUV.