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“Had Petrov been consistent in his visits before this time?” Alex pressed.
“Yeah,” Killmer grumbled. “Which leads me to think that something we don’t know about, something we can’t put our finger on, is happening. There’s change, and damned if I can figure out what it is, but it’s sure-as-hell affecting their schedules.”
“I’m going to call Gage Hunter of Mission Planning at Shield,” Lauren told him. “He’s got carte blanche with the CIA. Maybe he can shake something loose for us. Or,” and she frowned, “at least give us a hint as to what’s causing Petrov to break his normal pattern of movement.”
“Well, one thing for sure,” Killmer said, giving them a hard look, “it means your op has suddenly become a helluva lot tougher to accomplish. If Petrov is going to start being erratic, you could sit on that hill for a week or two and never have him come down the trail. Before, I could have timed it to the day and hour for you but now,” and he shook his head, “all bets are off.”
“Did Chief Zavas say where Petrov was going next?” Alex asked.
“Didn’t say.”
“There are two trails that meet about a mile from here,” Alex told them, pointing to the western jungle. “One leads to the upper village of Wayra in the jungle and the other, Tuyur, and that is about six miles further and it’s on the edge of the Highlands. Both are in Petrov’s territory.” Alex knew the trails at least as well as, and probably better than, Killmer and his team did. “Neither of those trails led back directly to La Paloma, the village where Petrov and his men have their base of operation,” he added, continuing to think aloud. “Either way,” and he looked down at Lauren, “Petrov is going to HAVE to take this trail we just came down to get back to his base at La Paloma. Wayra and Tuyur are dead ends, trail-speaking-wise. Petrov has to turn around and come back through here.”
Killmer agreed. “And he usually stays overnight in a village and then moves on.”
“Yes, that is how we operated when I was with Alexandrov,” Alex said.
Lauren said, “Then, the only thing I want to do right now is get back to that hill, check it out, and see if it’s viable.”
“We’ll take a hike up to it,” Killmer told her, “After we grab chow and rest a bit.”
Lauren made the call on the sat phone as she sat in the unused hut, while the rest set about getting the group something to eat. Alex remained nearby, listening to the conversation. When she clicked it off, she gave him a dark look. “Apparently, from what Jack’s people could find out? There’s a fight underway for who is going to control the Russian Mafia out of New York City. Rolan Pavlovich has taken over, and he’s scourging the old guard from his ranks who were working with Yerik Alexandrov. Jack believes Pavlovich is weeding out Alexandrov loyalists from the ranks right down to these Russian teams that are here on the ground. He’s apparently replacing some of them with his own hand-picked people.”
“That would answer why Petrov may be changing his habits.”
Nodding, she said, “I’m taking this intel to Mace. I think he’ll agree with us about what’s upsetting all their schedules and blowing them to hell.”
“And,” Alex added, “this is going to throw everything these three Special Forces groups know off-balance and they won’t know who is where, anymore. At least, until Pavlovich cleans the ranks out of Alexandrov loyalists.”
“What a friggin’ mess,” she muttered, shaking her head, leaving the hut, the sat phone in hand.
A light mistbegan as Lauren and Alex carefully moved up the nob of the small hill. Down below, the red clay trail, pitted with mud puddles, curved around one flank of the hill and then continued in a westerly direction toward Kurmi. The bump, as Lauren referred to it, was littered with fallen trees, cracked logs, and orchids that had been blown out of the trees that surrounded the hill by the gusts of wind that came with the violent, daily or nightly thunderstorms. There was a layer of leaf debris about six inches deep, making the surface springy as well as soggy, their boots sinking into it. They carried their rifles as they reconned the area. Killmer and his group had remained behind at the village where he was trying to find out more from the chief about Petrov’s untimely appearance.
Lauren liked the stacked logs that looked like gigantic toothpicks that had been haphazardly scattered about on the hill. She stood atop the center of it, eyes narrowing as she studied the straight length of trail that led up to, and past, where they were at. Alex was looking around, lifting and peering through some branches, checking out the strength of the logs piled on top of one another. “This is ideal,” she told him, gesturing toward the trail. “Five hundred yards, if I don’t miss my guess.”
Alex joined her. “It is an easy shot. Once Petrov and his men round that corner down there,” and he gestured toward it, “there is no place for them to run and hide. All the feeder lines are here, at the hill. They are walled-in on both sides of that trail, with no place to run and hide. They cannot escape into those thick, woody vine walls. It is impossible to do.”
“The only thing they can do is lay down a wall of fire and back out,” Lauren agreed. She was glad to be alone with Alex. She could relax to a degree. “Let’s go check out those two feeder lines? Because we can’t use the one that curves around through the jungle and ends up back at that village. There’s no way I’m leading Petrov, and what’s left of his gang, into it. I want to keep the villagers safe and out of the line of fire.”
Nodding, Alex said, “This way, then,” and he moved gingerly down the knoll. At the bottom, he took the trail to the farthest left. “These pig feeders are narrower,” he warned her.
Lauren moved ahead of him, seeing the wall of tropical plants and vines rising at least eight feet high above them on either side of the red, muddy path. “If we need to egress because Petrov’s men fight back, we need to be sure they can’t see us when we slide down the other side of this hill.”
“They will know these feeders, also,” he warned, following her onto the trail. It got considerably darker because of the thick, continuous cloud cover over them, and also due to the jungle absorbing the light above, not letting much of it reach the ground.
They walked down the slope until the point trail flattened out and ran straight from there. That stretch was at least a mile long and when Lauren emerged back onto the main trail she was feeling her calves begin to knot again. A sign that she had to hydrate. Alex pulled out a waterproof map, leaned in near to her, and opened it. “Here’s where this feeder comes out on this path.”
Lauren sucked a lot of water out of her CamelBak and fixed the tube beneath the Velcro tab on her shoulder that kept it in place. “I keep worrying about something though, Alex.” She looked over at him. “What if we take out Petrov and Volkov decides to fight? He could send one of his men back to hide and take us out right here.” They had not been given approval to snuff out Volkov according to Gage Hunter when she’d spoken with him on the sat phone earlier.
“There is only five men left once you kill Petrov. Knowing Volkov, he will probably retreat. He will not know how many people are on that hill. I do not think he will risk it.”
“What? Then retreat the way they came in? Get out of Dodge?”
Nodding, Alex added, “Look at it this way, Lauren. With Petrov dead, Volkov will be leader. He wants to live. Not stay and fight an unknown size of force hidden on this hill.”
“We still need an egress point even if he retreats,” Lauren said.
“Absolutely.”
