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Ostap pushed his way past Oles and shot the technician a glare. “Ostap Isayev. We’re here on a mission to stop the weaponized computer virus known as Damocles. Our… technicians say that one of your group may have the same intent. Is this true?”
Rick eyed Ostap cautiously, weighing the man’s tone and attitude against his demeanor. Ostap’s hands were down at his side, and Rick could see his right hand swaying slightly just inches away from a holster on his hip. “You four were in that Russian plane that went down, I take it?”
Carl turned his head to look at Ostap, while Oles stepped forward again and jumped into the conversation before he could be stopped. “Yes! Yes, we were! Did you see it go down?”
“Mhm. West side of the city, while the storm was passing through. We didn’t know if there were any survivors.” Rick lowered his rifle slightly, though Jane and Dr. Evans kept their weapons pressed against their cheeks and shoulders, fingers hovering near the triggers. Rick looked down at the pile of bodies again and shook his head. “I guess we have you to thank for taking care of these a-holes.”
Carl nodded and lowered his hands slightly until his palms were level with his shoulders. Ostap walked forward slowly, stepping over the bodies on the floor until he stood next to Carl. “Mr. Waters—”
“Just call me Rick.”
“Rick.” Ostap nodded. “Our technicians believe you have someone in your group, a Dr. Michael Evans. Is this true?”
Rick stiffened, raising his rifle back up and adjusting his stance. “What if we do?”
Ostap put his
palms in a non-threatening gesture, then turned to Oles. “Do you mind explaining this?”
Oles nodded eagerly and began talking at a high rate of speed. “We took one of the last remaining planes out of our country and came here with the purpose of finding access codes to shut down Damocles. Our engineers determined that it was likely going to continue to escalate its attacks unless it was stopped, and apparently military intelligence decided that this is likely where the command and control center is located.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Rick’s voice was flat and emotionless.
“Oh! Yes, Dr. Evans! He’s… well, he’s a genius!” While Oles was technically the senior technician of the two, his childlike wonder was just as strong—if not stronger—than Jacob’s, and discussing a figure like Dr. Evans made him beam with delight. “He was the lead developer on the project that ultimately turned into Damocles! The breadth and depth of his knowledge on the subject is such that he would be an absolutely invaluable asset in the shutdown of Damocles. Is... is he really here? Was that truly him that we saw?”
Rick heard movement behind him and shifted to the side, clearing a space for Dr. Evans to step out of the doorway. He lowered the rifle and, as his face became unobscured by the weapon, both Oles and Jacob let off shouts of delight and disbelief. Their enthusiasm and friendliness in the face of so much carnage in the very same room was confusing, but given that two of the new arrivals had just slaughtered the MS-13 gang members, he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Rick lowered his rifle and held out his hand to Carl, whose hands were still raised. “Rick Waters. And you are?”
Carl turned to look at Ostap, who merely shrugged, though Rick noticed that the man’s hand was easing away from his holster instead of toward it. Carl took a deep breath and extended his hand, clasping Rick’s in a firm handshake. “Carl Aliyev. The other technician here is Jacob Yermakov. Ostap is our mission leader.”
Ostap walked slowly up to Carl’s side and shook Rick’s hand. “Carl. Ostap. I’m guessing, based on your dress, that we have you two gentlemen to thank for saving our asses.”
“When Oles and Jacob saw who was with your group, they told us it was vital that we keep you out of harm’s way.”
“Well, thank you. We appreciate it.”
An uncomfortable silence descended in the hall until Jane finally broke it by stepping out of the back room and lowering her weapon. “Quick suggestion—how about we get out of the murder chamber in here and go talk outside, where there isn’t a pile of bodies and blood on the floor?”
Chapter 9
The Waters’ Homestead
Outside Ellisville, VA
Streaks of fire soared through the air as the glass bottles filled to the neck with gasoline tumbled end over end from the woods. The first bottle exploded prematurely as its thrower was not nearly as accurate as he could have been. It hit a tree a few meters in front of him, sending flames in all directions, including onto two men who were hiding nearby.
Two more bottles fell short of the house, shattering on the gravel drive and sending their flames out across stone and dirt, only to die off a short time later. The last two bottles were sent flying straight and true, though, with one landing on the roof and the other smashing against the side. Bright orange flames burst forth just below the upstairs window, and a wave of heat drove Tina and Dianne back as the flaming liquid burst out away from the house, tumbling down the siding. The flames found no purchase, though, and soon extinguished themselves.
The bottle on the roof didn’t actually break, and instead rolled back down, gaining enough speed that it tumbled out into the driveway, sending a fresh burst of flames up into the air but damaging nothing in the process.
The entirety of the attack was brief, taking no more than ten seconds from start to finish, but to Dianne it appeared as though everything was happening in slow motion. As she and Tina ducked away from the flames beneath the window, a smattering of gunfire emerged from the woods, tearing holes in the side of the house. Only a few of the rounds penetrated through, but the number of weapons firing and the sound of them hitting the wood was enough to both terrify and enrage Dianne.
“Return fire!” Dianne shouted into her radio and stood in full view of the window, jamming the butt of her rifle against her shoulder. She used the bright flashes of light amongst the darkness of the trees to her advantage, lashing out with three and five round bursts at each flash. Only when the bolt slammed open and the trigger fell with a hollow click beneath her finger did she drop back down and scurry over to Tina who was standing on the other side of the room, performing the same actions at another group.
“How many’d you hit?” Dianne shouted at Tina over the gunfire and shouts coming from both outside and inside the house.
“No idea! Someone downstairs hit at least three, though; I saw them drop out there near the edge of the woods!”
