A Red Dotted Line (Mike Walton Book 2) Read online

  “You move, you die,” one of the men said in English. He walked toward her, his gun steady in his hands.

  Lisa recognized him as one of the men she had seen at the airport. His partner—a man she had never seen before—was covering him from the kitchen while speaking to Sophia, who was now standing up and holding her neck with both her hands. Her eyes drilled into Lisa. Pure hatred emanated from them.

  She was expecting me. It was indeed a trap. And I walked right into it.

  “Get on your knees,” ordered the man. “Slowly.”

  Lisa obeyed, her heart rate exploding. She tried to remain focused in case an opportunity presented itself, but the men were well trained. Plus, her right forearm was now killing her. Warm blood slid down to her hand and red droplets splashed onto the beige carpet of the living room. The second man moved to his left to get a better angle on her.4

  “Now, from your knees, turn around and face the balcony.”

  Is this it? I’m so fucked.

  “Cross your legs and interlock your fingers,” the man continued, once she was facing the balcony.

  Maybe she had a chance after all. She had practiced this exact scenario countless times while in training. The man giving the command would holster his pistol while his partner covered him. He would then grab her hands one by one to handcuff her. If that was what was going on here, she would have a small window of opportunity when she could strike back. Of course, it was a huge gamble and the odds were stacked against her. Still, men tended to dismiss what a woman could do in these situations much more than if they were dealing with another man.

  Lisa felt the man’s presence behind her and waited for the sound that would tell her he had holstered his firearm. It came a second later. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. As soon as she felt his hand on her wrist, she pounced. She was on her feet in an instant and pivoted one hundred and eighty degrees to her right while her right hand clutched the man’s forearm. She took one step to her right to shield herself from the remaining shooter, while her left hand dug into her pocket for the small carving knife. She kicked the man hard on the shin to gain the extra half second she needed to pull the knife out. The man yelled in pain and she used this distraction to plunge the knife deep into the man’s neck. His eyes opened wide and both his hands shot up in an attempt to remove the knife embedded in his throat.

  Lisa spun around the man, knowing it would be easier to get to his gun. Unfortunately for her, the man’s strength was leaving him quickly and he fell backwards just as she was about to pull his pistol from its holster. Lisa let herself fall with him, knowing that if she remained standing she’d be a sitting duck for the other shooter. The man’s weight was crushing her and she hurried to get her hand around his pistol. The other shooter was yelling in Russian and she saw him squeeze the trigger twice. The man on top of her jerked as the rounds hit him in the chest. She finally managed to get the gun out with her left hand and she fired. Her first round went high and the second shooter ducked behind the counter. She fired three more rounds to keep him pinned down. She pushed the man off her and screamed in pain, feeling the cut on her left forearm open wide. Her shooting hand was her right one, and she wasn’t as good shooting one handed, especially from her left hand.

  Surprising her, the second attacker dove out of cover while shooting. His first three rounds went wide but the fourth hit her just above her left knee. She returned fire again and again, not understanding while they weren’t hitting each other. They were less than twenty feet apart yet none of their bullets were hitting their marks, or so it seemed. Finally, one of hers ricocheted of the tile floor and entered the man’s brain through his left eye.

  Fuck! She looked for an exit wound in her leg but there wasn’t one. The bullet had remained lodged. The pain was like nothing she had ever experienced. Her whole leg was like dead weight. She couldn’t move it. She tried to step toward the balcony but she collapsed. Sounds behind her warned her she wasn’t out of danger yet.

  Sophia. In the heat of the moment, she had completely forgotten about Dr. Galkin’s wife. She was reaching for the dead shooter’s gun.

  “Don’t, Sophia,” she said, her voice only a whisper. But the other lady wasn’t listening. Or maybe she hadn’t even heard her. And it didn’t matter because Lisa fired her pistol the moment Sophia pointed the gun at her. She kept firing even after Sophia had crumpled onto the floor. Once the magazine was spent, Lisa let go of her pistol. Why was she so tired so suddenly? She hadn’t lost so much blood, had she?

  She could hear shouts coming from the hallway. The cavalry was coming, but it wasn’t to save her. She reached for her smartphone, tucked under her coat, and dialed the IMSI’s number.

  Anna Caprini answered. “Where are you?”

  “I’m done. I’m all shot up,” Lisa replied, tears filling her eyes. Her hand moved to her stomach. It was sticky and warm. She’d been shot more than once after all. Why wasn’t she feeling the pain?

  “Hang in there, Lisa,” Mapother said, coming on the line. “We’ll get you out of there.”

  “They set us up using Galkin’s wife as bait,” she said, out of breath, her whole body shaking. “They’re coming for me—”

  “We’ll track you down, Lisa—”

  “I’m so sorry, Charles, I should have listened to you,” she said, her strength vanishing quickly. Fatigue was taking over. “Goodbye, and thank you for everything.”

  She had one more call to make before dialing the number that would erase all the data from her phone. Her fingers, red with blood, had difficulty dialing the correct numbers. She fumbled with the phone, the voices of the advancing troops adding an edge to the craziness of the whole situation.

  They had now entered the apartment. She could feel the floor shake underneath her as they ran through the apartment looking for her. There were a lot of them. More than she could ever handle. She wouldn’t have the time to speak with Mike after all, so she held down the number five and star keys together for two seconds. That would automatically take care of her phone.

  Her thoughts turned to Mike. Was he safe? And would he be okay without her? She was so worried for him. He had already lost so much. Tears ran freely down her cheeks. She was ready. She was ready to see her parents again. And Melissa.

  Oh, Melissa. Mommy’s coming to see you.

  CHAPTER 40

  Moscow, Russia

  Mike Walton breathed a sigh of relief. The Russian was built like a tank and the gunshot wound he had sustained wasn’t as bad as Mike had originally feared Before leaving, James Cooper had left them the small emergency kit that was inside the vehicle. The Russian had hastily applied a sterile bandage and an antiseptic cream while in the elevator. Mike’s plan was to head back to the same rooftop. That would give them the vantage point they needed to spot anyone attempting to reach the address Victor had given him.

  “Why aren’t we going to the apartment?” Victor asked, putting his jacket back on. He winced.

  “I was hoping you’d know better than to ask a stupid question like that, Victor.”

  Mike needed an ally. He dared hope that Victor would be this person, but he needed to confirm his story before trusting him even a little.

  “I’m just trying to figure out what your plan is. Is Mike your real name?”

  Mike didn’t bother to reply. Once out of the elevator, he gave Victor the directions to the rooftop.

  “Door’s locked,” Victor said.

  “Step back,” Mike ordered. “Move away from me and stay where I can see you.”

  Mike took out the lock-pick gun from his bag and was about to start working when Victor said, “I know how to use one of these. Let me.”

  Mike let the Russian take his place but kept his gun trained on him as he worked.

  “Done,” Victor said almost immediately.

  “Let’s go,” Mike said. “Lead the way
. You know where we’re going.”

  Despite his injury, the Russian climbed the stairs two by two,

  It hadn’t got any warmer on the rooftop and Mike hoped they wouldn’t have too long to wait.

  “This neighborhood doesn’t get much traffic at night,” Victor said. “We should be able to spot them from far away.”

  “If they aren’t already there,” Mike said.

  “They’re not.”

  “If you’re the real deal, Victor, what’s in it for you?” Mike asked. He had been wondering why someone in Victor’s position would want to help him.

  “Do you love your country, Mike?” the Russian agent asked.

  “Why do you think I’m here? It’s certainly not for the damned weather, is it?” Mike said, his teeth chattering again.

  Victor chuckled. “It isn’t that bad once you get used to it.”

  “So it’s out of love that you’re betraying your country?” Mike said, focusing with his binoculars on someone exiting the building across the street. He didn’t know if it was because he was half frozen, or if his brain had simply ceased to function properly, but he realized the cruelty of his words too late. He never saw the Russian coming. Victor knocked the binocs out of his hands and punched him hard on his right ear. Mike’s knees buckled and he struggled to stay on his feet but Victor’s attack had stunned him and he was unable to stop the powerful kick to his groin. Mike doubled over, his breath knocked out of him. He heard himself moan as he writhed on the frozen rooftop.

  “I’m no traitor,” Mike heard Victor say just before he was kicked in the stomach.

  A sharp pain reverberated through his body. He knew he had to get up but he didn’t seem to be able to. The next strike could finish him, so he curled up and brought his arms around his head while doing his best to catch his breath.

  But the next blow never came. Instead, Victor said, “I think they’re here. Get up.”

  Mike painfully got to his knees.

  “Come on, I didn’t hit you that hard,” Victor added.

  Victor was squatted near the fringe of the rooftop with the infrared binoculars in his hands.

  “You sucker punched me,” Mike said.

  “Stop complaining. You nearly killed me with my own clip-on tie. And as if this wasn’t enough, you shot me.”

  “Maybe I should have killed you,” Mike said, holding his side. Mike was man enough to know that if the Russian had wanted him dead, he’d be dead already.

  The Russian glanced at him. “Are we good now?”

  “Yeah, we’re good.”

  “Take a look,” Victor said, handing him the binocs.

  Mike brought the binocs to his eyes. An SUV had stopped in front of the building they were watching and four men got out while one remained in the driver seat.

  “What do you want to do?” Victor asked.

  Mike scanned the surrounding rooftops and streets. “What are they gonna do once they realized there’s nobody up there?”

  “What would you do?”

  “I wouldn’t stick around for long,” Mike replied. “Are you sure they’re working for the Sheik?”

  “Yes. These guys aren’t Russians.”

  Mike couldn’t spot anyone else in the vicinity. The vehicle was idling in the street in front of the building’s main entrance. “I need one alive,” Mike said.

  “How do you want to do this?”

  “We need to take out the driver first,” Mike said. “Then we take them out in the lobby as they exit the elevator.”

  Victor nodded. “What about the one you want to talk to?”

  Mike thought about it for a second. “If the Sheik wanted to originally bring Dr. Galkin here, I’m sure he bugged the room and there are probably cameras all over the apartment. I don’t believe he ever intended on coming here himself.”

  “So we won’t go up to the apartment,” Victor said.

  “We’ll take the SUV.”

  “All right,” Victor said. “We should go.”

  Mike returned the binocs to his backpack. “I didn’t mean to say what I said, Victor,” Mike said. “I know why you’re doing this.”

  Victor nodded. “I can’t go in there empty-handed.”

  Mike handed him the PB silent pistol. “There are three rounds left in the magazine plus one in the pipe.”

  Victor expertly checked the magazine and confirmed there was a round in the chamber. “Thanks.”

  “No, Victor, thank you,” Mike said as they headed to the elevator.

  CHAPTER 41

  IMSI headquarters, New York

  Charles Mapother was dumbfounded. He couldn’t believe the conversation he’d just had with Lisa was for real. His asset was in big trouble and he had no idea how to help her. Jonathan Sanchez looked as stunned as he was. Mapother had lost assets before, but not this way. It had been a terrible idea to send her alone and he only had himself to blame for it. The loss of Lisa was a horrible blow that could have been prevented if he had been more conscious of her capabilities. She just wasn’t ready and, deep down, you knew it. But you let her go anyhow. This one’s on you, Charles.

  “Mike’s on the line,” came Anna Caprini’s voice.

  Oh shit. What am I gonna say to him?

  “Mike?” he said, picking up.

  “I’m with Victor Simonich. We’re taking aggressive measures—” Mike started before Mapother interrupted him mid-sentence.

  “What did you just say?”

  “Charles, we don’t have much time. Victor is with us.”

  Mapother’s brain was in overdrive. He looked at Sanchez who simply shrugged.

  “Go on,” he finally said.

  “Victor thinks the men we’ll hit are part of the Sheik’s network in Russia,” Mike said. “We’ll do our best to keep one alive and we’ll convince him to speak with us. How’s Lisa?”

  Charles Mapother wondered if he should tell Mike about Lisa, but that would throw him off his game and Mapother didn’t want that. Still, he felt bad lying to Mike. “She’s fine.”

  “Okay. Good,” Mike replied. “Got to go.”

  “One more thing,” Mapother said, glad Mike didn’t dwell on the subject. “Call me if you’re indeed able to capture one of the Sheik’s men.”

  “Something I should know?” Mike asked. He sounded strained and Mapother decided it wasn’t the best time to talk to him about Zima’s troubles in Syria.

  “Not for now,” Mapother said, ending the conversation.

  Sanchez sat down in one of the armchairs facing Mapother’s desk. “You made the right call, Charles,” he said.

  Mapother nodded. “I know. He needs to focus on the task at hand. But everything is going to shit.”

  “Not everything,” Anna Caprini said, marching into his office. “We’ve started to analyze the info Support Two downloaded from the USB key Dr. Galkin passed on to Victor Simonich.”

  “And?”

  Caprini handed him a red folder. “This is what we’ve got so far but there’s more to come. It’s incredible.”

  Mapother opened the file and started reading. My God! This was bigger than they ever thought. “We can’t deal with this on our own,” he said a minute later. He passed the file to Sanchez. “Call back DNI Phillips, Anna. I need to talk with him again.”

  ........

  Director of National Intelligence Richard Phillips was in the bathroom when his personal cell phone chirped. Not many people had his personal number.

  “Can it wait?” he said for greeting.

  “No, Richard. It can’t.”

  Charles Mapother.

  The director of the International Market Stabilization Institute rarely called, and when he did, it was never to do small talk. He had spoken to Mapother less than an hour ago when the director had informed him of the developments i
n Russia. The conversation had given the DNI cramps, hence the reason he had spent the last ten minutes in the bathroom. The United States military was already stretched thin, and a new cold war with Russia wasn’t something anyone wanted. Phillips had decided he wouldn’t bother POTUS—the President of the United States—with the intelligence Mapother had disclosed regarding a potential biological attack until the IMSI could at least confirm their initial findings.

  “Shoot.”

  “Sir, I’m afraid I have bad news.”

  Phillips’s stomach knotted in a ball. “What is it?” With Charles Mapother one could always expect the worst.

  “Our asset in Koltsovo has been neutralized, I’m afraid,” Mapother said.

  Phillips allowed himself to relax. Losing men in the field was part of the game. He cared for everyone ready to put their lives on the line to keep others safe but the loss of one asset wasn’t that big a deal. Unless neutralized meant compromised? That would be an issue and something Phillips was truly afraid of. Not only would exposure of the IMSI drastically diminish their efficiency, it could cause upheaval within the government and the intelligence community. Even though the IMSI had been a superb ally in the war on terror, especially in the fight against the Sheik, they were operating outside official channels and had nothing to do with the United States government. Officially.

  Unofficially, things were a bit different. DNI Phillips had used them a few times to do things he knew couldn’t be sanctioned by the government. The Croatian operation came immediately to mind. Plus, his friend and sitting US president Robert Muller had given the go ahead to the establishment of the IMSI. If it wasn’t bad enough to acquiesce to the creation of a privately funded, direct-action agency, the whole thing had become a nightmare when the IMSI had itself discovered that one of its financial benefactors had been in bed with the Sheik. Since then, Phillips had weekly discussions with Robert Muller about how best to distance themselves from the IMSI. Nothing was off the table, including disbanding the whole shebang. Of course, Mapother knew nothing of this, and wouldn’t hear about it until a final decision was made. With the attempt on Mapother’s life, Phillips had thought it was the perfect time to pull the plug. That was until they came in contact with the Russian threat. Now everything had changed. Again.