The easiest solution would have been to get rid of the woman completely, but that never crossed his mind. He had time to spare, he couldn’t enter the military compound until after dark and it was still before noon. Instead of rushing, he went all the way back down the flights of stairs he’d just climbed, went to the supermarket, and bought himself a cup of coffee and a pastry.

There was a seating area inside the store and he sat on a bench and sipped the coffee.

It had been a few years since he’d been in Russia but he’d spent a lot of time there in the past and the familiar feel of the place came back to him. There was a no-nonsense attitude that everyone shared, a sense that it was pointless to put unnecessary energy into anything.

He finished the coffee and pastry and went back to the apartment building, went back up the eighteen flights of stairs, and very quietly picked the lock on the door of the apartment.

Inside, it was completely unfurnished. In the center of what would have been the living room were some steel cases. Lance opened the first and found Russian cash, US dollars, and some local ID in an old wallet, nothing with a photograph.

He took the money and opened the next box. It contained a Czech CZ 75 semi-auto pistol, along with ammo and a suppressor.

The next box was larger, and inside were some canvas carrying cases and a rifle case. Lance pulled out the rifle case and laid it on the floor. When he opened it he found an M82 sniper rifle. It was a big gun, weighing over thirty pounds with its equipment and bipod. There was also a night vision scope and a selection of .50 caliber BMG ammo, including silver-tipped M8 armor-piercing incendiary rounds.

As well as the guns, there was other equipment that could be useful to him, including flashlights, rope, wire cutters, and a toolkit.

There was another carrying case containing eleven-inch-long bricks of C-4 plastic explosive wrapped in Mylar-film. Each brick weighed just over a pound, and together with the detonators and fuses, that case weighed over forty pounds.

Lance packed a pistol and silencer, the rifle and scope, explosives and fuses, and as much ammo and other equipment as he thought he could carry and let himself out of the apartment as quietly as possible. He set the latch to lock behind him but as he was shutting the door it clicked loudly.

The door of the opposite apartment opened again and the woman reappeared.

“You’re back,” she said.