Page 41 of Enemy Within

And then he heard it. Like thunder, a rumble that crawled over the ridge and rolled down from the sky. A series of blasts, booms that shook his windows, shook the water in his canteen, making it splash against the metal as it lay on his dashboard.

He saw it, too. Roaring flame, billowing into the sky, a rising fireball that kept growing, bursting like a flaming geyser had appeared in the center of Siberia. He’d seen something like that once before, years ago on a flight line. A gas explosion, an eruption that grew with the vapor, ballooning larger and larger, feeding itself as it hungered for more fuel.

Something up on the ridge had exploded. Erupted.

And there wasn’t supposed tobeanything up on that ridge. Not according to the maps and the memories he had, poring over the route eastward while standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Sergey. Nothing was in these mountains.

Except for Sergey.

He reached for the stick, shifting the truck straight into second, and slammed on the gas. The truck lurched, spinning out on loose snow before roaring forward, climbing sideways across a game trail. Branches scraped his windows, and pockets of ice made his tires whine and the truck slide out. But he kept on, climbing toward the ridge.

He’d go as far as he could before he had to get out and run. And then he’d go as far as he could until he had to crawl. Whatever it took.

20

Southern Siberia

SERGEY POKED HIS HEAD around the corner of the prison administration building, trying to see the open spaces of the prison yard.

A bullet slammed into the concrete beneath his eye, spraying dust and ice into Sergey’s face. He ducked back, turning in to Jack’s arms.

Jack steadied him. “Did you see anything?”

“He is out there.”

“Obviously, Sergey.”

“He is somewhere in the yard. Maybe in one of the towers.”

“So we find another way. We go back the way we came, try to find another way through the admin building—”

“There is no other way, Jack!” Sergey shouted, pulling free. “He set fire to the cellblocks! That way is shut!”

Jack glared. “What about the rear fence? What about a back way out of here?”

“Sheer rock. This place was built to have one entrance.” Sergey pointed to the yard, and where the shot had come from. “And he is there!”

Jack threw his hands up. “Then what do you propose?”

Sergey stared at him. He breathed in and out, slowly. “You will run for the gate—”

“No. No way.” Jack shoved Sergey against the cold concrete, pinning him with both hands. “I’m sick of this son of a bitch. We’re going to get rid of him, and then we’re getting out of here. Together.”

Sergey glared and shook Jack off. “How?”

“How big do you think that fireball was? That explosion? Think! Ethanmusthave seen it. We’re late, missing from our rendezvous. Do you think for onesecondthat he won’t be coming to check that out? He’s on his way, I promise you that. We just need to hang on.”

“And how doyoupropose we do that?”

Think, think.Jack closed his eyes. Took a breath. What would Ethan do? What choices would he make, right now? What did they have to work with? Themselves. Two rifles, pilfered from the prison officers’ quarters. They were finally armed, but slowly being squeezed into a kill box. “Can we get to the roof? Higher ground?”

Sergey closed his eyes, exhaling as he rested his head against the concrete wall. Jack waited, biting his tongue. Sergey had crossed some line, somewhere deep within himself. This fatalistic pessimism wasn’t his way.

But the heart had a way of tugging even the smartest person into twisted rationalities. How much hurt had Sergey accumulated in the past week? How much more in the last twelve hours? Would Jack think the same way, if faced with Ethan’s loss?

No. He wasn’t going down that road.

“Sergey,” he prodded. “Can we get to the roof?”