The Last Agent by Robert Dugoni

Author:Robert Dugoni
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-09-21T16:00:00+00:00

26

The ambulance driver, a CIA asset in Moscow secured by Lemore, drove into an underground parking garage beneath a private building near Komsomolskaya Square. The parking kiosk was unmanned, as expected—every move to this point choreographed. The driver pressed a fob to a plate to raise the gate, then drove down the ramp to one of the lower floors, tires squealing on the slick concrete. He parked in a designated space for the disabled between two cement pillars at the back of the garage floor. The overhead light had been broken, and though the garage was equipped with security cameras, the camera on that floor had also been disconnected.

As Jenkins continued to work to revive Paulina, he could hear the man stripping the bar of lights from the roof, then peeling off the red striping, the red cross, and the blue universal medical signs on the back panels. When he had finished, the vehicle would be a plain white van. The driver opened the passenger door and tossed everything on the floor, then went to work removing and replacing the license plates. When he’d finished, he opened the back doors of the van.

“Why haven’t you changed?” he asked Federov and Jenkins in English but with a strong Russian accent. “We need to move.”

“She’s not coming to.” Jenkins looked to Paulina, who remained unconscious on the stretcher. The doctor lay unconscious on the floor, hands zip-tied behind his back, a rag shoved in his mouth.

The driver checked his wristwatch. He removed his blue jumpsuit as he spoke. “Your train will leave Leningradsky station precisely at 1:15. Moscow trains are punctual. We have timed this to the very minute. We have a head start on the FSB, but they will make up time quickly. You need to move.”

Underneath the jumpsuit the driver wore nondescript clothing—boots and jeans. He pulled on a black leather jacket and a knit skullcap and shoved black leather gloves into his coat pocket. Then he peeled off the beard and threw it and the glasses into the back of the van.

“Go,” Jenkins said. “Your job here is done.”

The man again checked his watch. He handed Jenkins train tickets. “Remember. The train will leave on time. Not a minute after 1:15. Misinformation is being spread. Everything is timed to give you the best chance to get through the station and to the train. You must be on it.”

“I understand,” Jenkins said.

The man lit a cigarette, then shut the van doors.

Jenkins looked to Federov. “You go also.”

Federov had peeled off his suit and threw the clothes on top of the doctor. He wore jeans, boots, and a blue down jacket over a second coat. He would abandon the down jacket at some point. He went to work putting on a mustache, which he checked in a mirror, then fit glasses onto the bridge of his nose and pulled a black Adidas baseball cap low on his brow. Disguise complete, he opened the back door and stepped from the van. “I wish you luck, Mr.

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