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“I’m going to TRY and find Kazak before he steps into Petrov’s trap,” Morozov muttered. He gave her a stripping glance. “And you are going to have to keep up with me. I can’t leave you here. Petrov will come back here sooner or later. He’ll rape and then kill you.”
Her heart jammed in her throat. Tears blinded her as she quavered, “You’re going to help warn Alex?”
Morozov shook his head. “It’s probably too late. But I have to try…” He had not been expecting the woman to throw her arms around him, hugging him. If he’d had any doubts as to where her loyalty lay, he knew now, unquestionably, it was with Alex. Technically, they were enemies. And enemies didn’t hug one another. He gripped her arms, pulling her away, seeing tears streak down her face. “I will do what I can,” he rasped, giving her a small shake. “It’s a hard run, two miles from here. Do you think you can make it? Keep up with me?”
“I’ll die trying,” Lauren whispered, taking the pistol. She swallowed hard, holding his glittering gaze. “Thank you for trusting me, Nik. I hope Alex will know of your loyalty to him. He loves you very much. He never stopped loving you as a brother. You need to know that.” She quickly unsafed the pistol, and checked the chamber to make sure a bullet was in it.
“He deserves you, he deserves to live and have a happy life,” Nik muttered. He tossed her a jacket. “Put this on. It’s Russian. I need to make you look like one of us so Petrov and his men won’t shoot at you.”
It was a smart idea. Lauren quickly hauled the too-big cammo jacket over her shoulders.
“Do you have a vest?” Nik demanded, shrugging into his own cammo jacket.
“Yes. You?”
“Always.”
The urgency thrummed through Lauren. She felt okay, but not great. Her head ached a little. She watched him quickly gather up a bunch of AK-47 magazines, stuffing them into the pockets of his jacket. His face was set, he was gearing up for battle. He threw her a black balaclava.
“Wear it as soon as we leave this cave. Your white face will stand out and get noticed.”
Tearing through the gear, Nik located a dark green baseball cap, throwing it in her direction. “Spetsnaz cap,” he muttered, digging some more.
Lauren said nothing, standing and letting him dress her up like a Russian soldier. “What’s your plan?” she demanded.
Morozov tossed her a pair of gloves. “Wear them.”
Lauren pulled them on, fitting her hands. Morozov leaned down, pulling out another AK-47. He handed it to her.
“Have you ever used one?”
“I’m familiar with them.” Lauren hefted the dark green metal rifle. It was one of the toughest, most reliable rifles of the last sixty years. It would not jam in rain, snow, or desert heat. She quickly went through the motions of making sure the selector was set for single shot, not semi-automatic or automatic. The curved metal clip held a lot of bullets, but Morozov handed her six more magazines which she stuffed into the pockets of her baggy cammo jacket.
Nik straightened up; his face taut. “Here’s the plan,” he told her. “I’m dousing the kerosene lamp. We’ll put on NVG’s. Once we’re outside, you need to hold onto my belt: here,” and he lifted his jacket, pointing to the dark green nylon belt around his waist. “You’re going to shadow me by holding onto my belt. We won’t talk.” He latched a radio onto the inside of her jacket lapel and handed her the earpiece. “Well, we could, but I prefer you click your radio instead. That way, no one will hear us.”
“Is this radio tuned to Petrov’s frequency?” Lauren asked, worried.
Nik snorted. “Good question.” And then he gave her a look of admiration. “You know your business.” He had forgotten that detail. A detail that could have alerted Petrov to their escape, thereby blowing their cover.
Lauren unlatched the radio, handing it back to him to reprogram. Morozov would know what frequency to put it on. “I won’t let you down,” she promised him quietly, meeting his eyes. She could feel the adrenaline starting to leak into her bloodstream. It made her restless, wanting to move, to get on with it. Every minute they wasted could possibly be putting Alex and the spec ops team in greater danger.
Morozov gave a nod, and replaced the radio, making sure it was secure inside her jacket. “Put the earpiece in,” he ordered. He made several clicks to test their connection.
“Hear them?”
“Yes,” Lauren said. “What else in your plan?”
“We have no way of knowing where Alex or the others are at.” He pulled up a sniper scope. “This one has infrared capability.” He handed it to her. “Every once in a while, when we can find higher elevation, I’ll want you to scan the area for body heat. It’s the only way we’ll know who is around and where they are located.”
“Brilliant,” Lauren murmured. She tucked the scope into a pocket of her cammo jacket and then buttoned it closed to protect it from the rain she was sure would come, sooner or later. She watched him gear-up. The last thing Morozov strapped on was a knife sheath, on his right lower leg. “Do you have another knife?” she wondered.
“Yes,” and he dug into the gear bag, produced one with a sheath, and handed it to her.
Quickly, Lauren strapped it on her left lower leg. It was a Russian knife and she wasn’t familiar with it, but it was better than nothing. “What are you planning on doing once you reach their ambush site?”
“Nothing,” he said flatly. “I want to angle away from it and try to find your friends on the only feeder trail that leads to the caves. They will be on it, no question. We need to try and stop them from walking into the trap.”
Lauren nodded. She could sense that if he didn’t have to kill anyone, he wouldn’t. Maybe it was a medic thing. He could be friends with some of the other Russians, too. Morozov was trying to avert a bloodbath. “Then you’re going to backtrack? Because I know Alex is a tracker. He’ll be following those tracks.”
