BooksBarbecue
Back The Asset
Chapters (86)
  1. Foreword
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. 50
  52. 51
  53. 52
  54. 53
  55. 54
  56. 55
  57. 56
  58. 57
  59. 58
  60. 59
  61. 60
  62. 61
  63. 62
  64. 63
  65. 64
  66. 65
  67. 66
  68. 67
  69. 68
  70. 69
  71. 70
  72. 71
  73. 72
  74. 73
  75. 74
  76. 75
  77. 76
  78. 77
  79. 78
  80. 79
  81. 80
  82. 81
  83. 82
  84. 83
  85. 84
  86. Afterword

“Is the Major General still on the second floor?” Vasily said, guessing that was where he’d be.

“Yes,” the soldier said, and then hesitated before adding, “sir.”

“Have the elevators been restored?”

“Yes, sir.”

Vasily brushed past them and got in the elevator. He pushed the button for the second floor and waited for the doors to shut. Then he drew his gun, checked it, and concealed it in the sleeve of his coat.

When the doors opened, Vasily was surprised to see Yevchenko standing right in front of him. He was with another soldier and the two were arguing about what had to be done now that the samples had been incinerated. They barely looked at Vasily as they stepped into the elevator.

“Going up?” Vasily said as the doors shut.

Yevchenko looked up but it was already too late.

“You,” he said, feebly.

Vasily had the revolver by his waist like an old western sheriff and he pulled the trigger twice. Yevchenko and the soldier fell to the ground.

The elevator stopped at the top floor and Vasily pulled them out and dragged them to the nearest office. Then he went back to the elevator, rode it the ground floor, and walked out of the building as briskly and officially as he’d entered.

72

Laurel jammed the car into gear and slammed her foot down. She was speeding along a muddy forest track in Timokhin’s Mercedes, running on pure adrenaline. She had no idea where she was going or what her plan was.

All she knew, the thought blaring through her skull like a fire alarm, was that she had no time.

The Russians would realize very quickly that Timokhin wasn’t answering. She also knew there was a tracker built into the vehicle. There was little doubt security services were stationed close by too, all of which meant there was virtually zero chance she was getting out of that forest alive.

She felt like she was going to start hyperventilating at any moment. The car careened down the track, swerving madly around each curve.

She knew she wouldn’t make it. She didn’t even have proper clothes. She’d taken Timokhin’s driver’s shirt and pants, and his gun and ammo, but none of it would get her very far.

Her only chance was to get to the city as quickly as possible and disappear into the crowds.

But how would she get there?

She didn’t even know where she was. And she couldn’t keep this car. Just looking at the fancy navigation screen reminded her that every move she made was being tracked.

She had Timokhin’s wallet, a little money. It was enough to keep her off the grid for a while.

A few days max.