Deep Sleep (Devin Gray #1)(88)

“Understood. What if they don’t retreat from SITE ZERO?” asked Felix.

“I’ll be in direct contact with the group at the site. If they can’t force a retreat, I’ll call you directly and redirect your team.”

Oleg reappeared in the doorway and gave him a thumbs-up before assembling the team around the door.

“The helicopters are ready,” said Felix.

“Don’t let me hold you up.” The call disconnected.

He jogged over to the team and repeated their orders, leaving out the part about prisoner bounties. Handle them as equals told Felix everything he needed to know about the hostile force. He had to kill all of them quickly and efficiently, or they would extract a heavy price from his team. Fifty thousand dollars was tempting, but not that tempting—to him. He couldn’t speak for the rest of the team’s financial situations. His life was worth far more than a measly fifty grand, and he wasn’t about to put it in the hands of someone who needed a quick money fix to pay off a gambling debt.

Satisfied that everyone understood the parameters of the mission, he turned them loose. They split up into two groups and boarded their assigned helicopters. Felix followed Oksana and Lashev, their sniper, to the leftmost Bell 429 helicopter, where they climbed inside, slid the wide side door into place, and immediately went to work donning their equipment.

The helicopter lifted off a moment later, a feeling of heaviness overtaking him until the helicopter’s flight leveled off, headed toward SITE ZERO. The pilot told him it would take no more than four minutes to reach the landing zone, which put them all under a bit of a time crunch to slip into their full combat kit. They worked methodically, starting with their plate carrier vests and moving on to their drop holsters. Rifles attached to one-point carry slings next, followed by helmets and night vision.

“One minute!” yelled the pilot.

He was glad Pichugin had arranged for two helicopters. This particular Bell model was rated for seven passengers, enough to ferry the team to the site, but the cabin felt cramped enough with the three of them unloading and swinging gear around. He couldn’t imagine trying to pull this off with the seven operatives in the same space. Not in four minutes. He patted himself down again to make sure he hadn’t missed something. All good.

With his personal gear squared away, he went to work on the last duffel bag with Oksana. Together, they wrestled the M249 LMG (light machine gun) out of the bag and onto the rear passenger bench seat. He retrieved one of the seventy-five-round-drum magazines from the bag and inserted it into the magazine well. All a gunner had to do at this point was release the safety and pull the charging handle back. Four additional drums sat in each bag.

“Should we bring one of these along?” asked Oksana. “The firepower might come in handy.”

He thought about it for a moment. The light machine gun’s high rate of fire would certainly pack a punch, but nobody on the team had much experience on the M249. Nearly all their operational time had been spent behind the gunsights of Russian-made weapons or similar knockoffs, which was most likely why the arsenal in Pennsylvania contained several AK variants. Everyone on the team, except for their sniper, had chosen a compact version of the AK-12 assault rifle.

“How many times have you fired one of these?” asked Felix.

“A few times. It’s not the easiest weapon to handle. The rate of fire is extremely high.”

He shook his head. The last thing he wanted to do was throw a wrench in the works at the last minute. Especially if their opponents were as skilled as Pichugin’s proxy had suggested. If their mission changed and they needed the firepower to dislodge the hostiles from the camp, he could send a team back to grab them.

“Let’s stick with what we know,” said Felix.

“Thirty seconds!” said the pilot.

Thirty seconds until they hit the ground running—literally. The landing zone and SITE ZERO were nearly equidistant from the ambush site—a race he had no intention of losing if the hostile team retreated faster than Pichugin’s planners had anticipated. Second place was an unceremonious death in the Ozark Mountains.





CHAPTER 46


Devin checked the cabin door, surprised to discover that the doorknob turned. They’d moved through twelve sets of cabins while working their way toward the center of camp, finding all of them securely locked. He’d taken a step closer to the door to push it inward when a hand clamped down on his arm. Mike shook his head and motioned for him to stand back, which suddenly struck Devin as a more sensible course of action. Was he really moments from pushing in the only open door they’d found out of the thirty-odd they’d checked? Marnie must have been shaking her head.

Mike crouched and pointed his rifle at the door. “Rich. We found an unlocked door.”

“Be right there.”

Devin backed up next to Marnie, who knelt in the recently cut weeds several feet behind Mike, her rifle pointed down the long, empty gap between rows that extended all the way to the center of the camp. Unlike the dirt path, several trees grew right up in the middle of the gap, mostly obscuring their view of the buildings. Devin raised his rifle and covered their flank, not that they expected any trouble from the forest.

Rich patted his shoulder as he passed by, quickly joining Mike near the door. The two of them conversed for a moment before Rich very gently turned the knob and opened the door far enough for Mike to take a quick peek inside. He nodded at Rick before disappearing into the cabin, his head poking out a few seconds later.