Dead Man's Hand by Brad Taylor

Author:Brad Taylor [Taylor, Brad]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 42

Oleg glanced to his right, seeing his man at the elevator up the hallway. He nodded, and Oleg whispered, “Go.”

Another man knelt to the lock, inserted lockpicking tools, and began methodically working the pins in the lock. Forty-five seconds later, he nodded, holding the tension wrench in place.

Oleg waved the elevator man to his location, they stacked on the door, and Oleg whispered, “Open it.”

The man at the lock twisted the wrench and the lock sprang free. Oleg kicked the door, racing in, his men following. They cleared the small room, found it empty, and Oleg ran to the open window. He leaned out, staring at an alley below, but saw nothing. He cursed and said, “Search the room. Find something.”

His men began ripping through the room like a cyclone, flinging drawers out, snatching hangers, and ripping off the bedsheets. Oleg turned around, seeing the destruction, and shouted, “Stop!”

The men did, looking at him in confusion. He said, “This isn’t Ukraine. Search the room methodically. We’re not on a time crunch, and we don’t want to leave the impression for the maids tomorrow that something bad happened here. Just search the room like it was your own.”

They began at a slower pace, replacing the drawers they’d flung about, Oleg thinking about the lack of professionalism. Wondering if he wanted to be associated with them. He was older, and, like his friend Dmitri who’d been killed in Sweden, had worked in the world of espionage before. Now he was dealing with a bunch of thugs who had gone through a ten-minute course and thought themselves experts.

He returned to the window, pulling the curtains back and gazing into the night. He knew this was how the man had escaped, but had no way of knowing where he’d gone. What he’d learned from the torture of the other GRU traitor was explosive, and he felt the weight on his shoulders to stop the attack.

The mission was well formed. Well thought out, and the team running it were true believers. He couldn’t understand how the man in the chair had withstood the punishment without talking, and he had a grudging respect. He knew he wouldn’t have lasted that long. The man had some inner strength he did not possess, and if the Ukrainians they were hunting had the same fervor, it would be a hard road to stop them.

It gave him pause.

A man behind him shouted, “I have something.” He ran to Oleg holding a small stationery pad that was provided by the hotel. On it was a time and a word: 2000. Grøften.

The man said, “Maybe he’s going here.”

Oleg took the paper and crumpled it up, wishing he had someone of worth working the room. He said, “There is no way he would use hotel stationery to write down his next meeting after hearing it on an open line, and then leave it for us to find. It’s a deception.”

But maybe the deception itself would provide some clues. Maybe the Israeli woman would be there.

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