December 16
10th District of Favoriten
Southeast Vienna, Austria
“You think they figured it out?” Carrie tipped her head toward the mosque.
Justin shrugged. “Not sure. But I don’t like this.”
“What do we do?” Lukas asked.
“Let’s check in with Team A. Perhaps they have visuals,” Justin said. “Maybe he left from the front entrance.”
Carrie nodded and reached for the radio. “Team A. Do you have eyes on the asset?”
“Negative,” came Dolina’s reply.
“Any movement on your side?”
“All dead quiet.”
Carrie looked at Justin.
He said, “I heard it.”
“So, what do we do?” Lukas asked.
“We wait. Maybe he can’t get to the phone. Perhaps they’ve jammers inside, to prevent anyone from remotely detonating a bomb.”
“Aren’t jammers too sophisticated for Sheikh al-Jadid?” Lukas said in a voice dripping with contempt.
“Never underestimate your—”
A violent explosion cut off his words. Geysers of shattered glass erupted from the three ground floor windows at the back of the mosque. Dust and gray smoke came billowing out.
Lukas said, “What the—”
A second explosion, more powerful than the first, rocked the area. The back door was blown away as if the Hulk had kicked it from inside. Whatever glass was left on the windows flew outwards. The smoke grew thicker and darker. The first lick of flames appeared around the door.
“Let’s go,” Lukas said and leaned against the door.
Justin shook his head. “No, we stay here until we know what’s going on.”
Carrie picked up the radio. “Team A, status.”
“We’ve got some movement. Roaches scattered by the heat. Three, no, four armed men, running toward us.”
“Remain in position, I repeat, remain in position.”
“Copy that,” Dolina said.
Gunfire sounds echoed from both the radio and outside.
Justin peered through the windshield, then looked through the window. He glanced at the side mirror, then craned his neck and looked at the back. No visible shooter. But numerous faces were staring from behind windows. A few young men looked from the entrance to a bar about a hundred yards away.
“You’re taking fire?” Carrie asked.
“Negative. Oh, scratch that. Taking effective fire,” Dolina said.
“Clear to engage,” Justin said.
The order was unnecessary, as the rules of engagement were clear: the operatives were authorized to shoot to kill if they were shot at first.
“Copy that. Out,” Dolina said.
One of the guards dashed out of the back entrance, which was still billowing black smoke. He seemed confused as to the best escape route. He looked to the left and took a few steps in that direction. Then he changed his mind and turned to the right, running back.
A couple of armed men swinging assault rifles bolted onto the street. The first one noticed the Audi SUV and pointed it out to the second gunman. He turned his rifle and fired a quick burst. It was off the mark, but a few bullets hammered the front of the SUV. One struck the windshield, leaving behind a small dent.
“Now we go out,” Justin said. “You good?” he asked Carrie and Lukas.
Carrie nodded back. “Pretty good.”
“Let’s do this,” Lukas said.
Justin cocked his pistol and stepped outside. He ducked down behind the open door, as a couple of rounds thumped against it.
He glanced through the window’s glass and pulled the trigger. He fired single rounds, aiming at the shooter who was still hammering the SUV. Justin’s first round missed, but the second hit the gunman in the chest. He dropped to his side, but continued firing.
A loud and long burst came from the other side of the car. Lukas squeezed off a few rounds, and one or more of them struck the gunman. The rifle fell out of his hands, and he stopped moving.
The guard and the other gunman had managed to secure positions behind a van and a small truck parked to the left. The guard was firing a pistol, while the gunman’s assault rifle was relentlessly pounding the front of the SUV. Spider webs stretched across the windshield. A couple of rounds cracked the glass in front of Justin’s face. He flinched and dropped down, then moved to the back of the SUV.
Carrie got to one knee and fired two- and three-round bursts. One of the bullets struck very close to the guard’s head. But he returned fire, unfazed by his brush with death.
She reloaded and pivoted on her knee, aiming at the gunman. He was careless in the way he stood up and squeezed off his barrages. Carrie waited until he popped up again, then planted a couple of bullets into the gunman’s chest.
“Only one left,” Lukas shouted over the gunfire.
Justin stood up behind him and fired at the guard. But it must have been the man’s lucky day. He was able to fall behind the van, unharmed.
Justin cursed the man, then edged to the other side of the SUV for a new, better angle. He studied first the front, then the rear of the van for the guard.
Nothing.
Justin waited for a long moment. He realigned the pistol in his sweaty hands with the back, then the front of the van, wondering where the guard would pop up next. “C’mon, get out of there. C’mon!”
Three seconds later, the guard’s head popped up behind the van driver’s window.
Justin fired a couple of rounds, piercing the window and the guard’s head.
Then Justin took in the mosque’s windows. A frown darkened his face, but at the same time he was glad he saw the lurking danger. “Machine gun. Middle window. Down! Down! Down!”
All three of them crawled to the rear of the SUV as large-caliber rounds began to slice through the vehicle. Glass and metal pieces rained over their heads. The SUV was bulletproof, but its armored frame and glass were useless against machine gun fire, especially the heavy ones firing 12.7mm cartridges.
Justin dropped even lower to the ground. He checked his pistol’s magazine. A little over half full. He had two more magazines in his holster’s pouch. But they were not much against the machine gun’s brutal power.
“It’s good we came prepared.” Carrie gave him a mischievous grin and tapped the SUV’s trunk.
Lukas gave her a confused look. “Prepared how? This is all we’ve got.” He showed them his submachine gun.
“That’s all you’ve got,” Carrie said to Lukas. She turned to Justin. “Can you get to the doors?”
A couple of rounds pinged against the SUV’s frame. Another one whizzed just above their heads.
“I don’t think so,” Justin replied. “But I can shoot one off.”
“Right side.”
“Got it.”
He rolled to that side and fired at the hinges holding the door. They were sturdy and resisted the first round of bullets, but not the second. The door dropped near the SUV. Immediately, a string of bullets began to batter the SUV’s right side. Justin barely managed to return to his position as metal fragments flew all around him.
“Door’s gone.”
“Perfect. Cover me,” Carrie said.
She climbed to her knees and flipped open the SUV’s trunk. Small fragments of glass fell on her chest, but Carrie brushed them away. Then she reached inside the trunk and picked up a rocket-propelled grenade launcher. She quickly checked the projectile screwed at the tip of the weapon, then shouldered the launcher with a swift gesture. She dropped back to her knees, then said, “Ready?”
“Ready,” Justin said.
He popped up on the SUV’s left side and fired quick three-round bursts.
Lukas stood right behind Justin and squeezed off his Steyr machine pistol.
Carrie seized the moment. Taking advantage of the cover fire, she swung her body a couple of feet away from the SUV. She aimed the launcher at the middle window and pulled the trigger.
The high-explosive warhead left the weapon at over three hundred feet per second and whooshed toward the target. A gray smoke curtain coming from the weapon’s breech mushroomed around the SUV. The warhead struck the right side of the window, a couple of feet from the opening. The warhead punched a basketball-sized hole in the brick wall and sent a hail of slivers toward the shooter.
But the onslaught did not stop.
Carrie cursed the gunner. “Missed him.” She retreated behind the SUV.
Justin and Lukas followed suit.
Bullets zipped over their heads. One ricocheted off the asphalt and missed Justin’s leg by mere inches.
“We have another grenade?”
“Just one more.”
Justin reloaded his pistol. “How you doing, Lukas?”
“Half a mag. Should be enough.”
“Yeah, it should,” Carrie said.
She groped blindly for the other grenade. Her hand found it, and she quickly mounted it onto the launcher. She drew in a deep breath, glanced at Justin, and said, “All right, boys. Let’s try this again.”
They waited a few moments, hoping for a break in the volley. There was a brief pause, and Carrie readied the launcher.
“Cover fire,” she shouted.
Justin and Lukas fired long bursts.
Carrie stood up, defying the occasional bullets thumping against the SUV. She aimed a bit more to her left, then pulled the trigger. The grenade screamed toward the target, leaving behind a grayish smoke trail. A moment later, the grenade went through the middle window and exploded.
Through the thinning cloud of smoke, Justin saw the machine gun fall out of the window. He waited with his pistol trained at the window, ready to open fire in case the gunner had survived the explosion. But there was no movement. The shooting had ceased.
“I think everybody’s dead,” he said in an uncertain voice. “But let’s be careful.”
“Always,” Carrie said.
Lukas glanced at her. “You . . . you always carry a grenade launcher with you?” he asked in a tone of shock mixed with admiration.
Carrie shrugged. “Uh, you never know when you need one.”
“Well, we seem to need them more and more,” Justin said.
Carrie stood up. “Let’s go.”
“I’ve got this side.” Lukas gestured toward the left and dashed toward the mosque’s back entrance.
He had taken only six or seven steps when a gunman appeared at a second-story balcony, barely twenty yards away from Lukas. The Austrian agent was looking in the other direction, his eyes focused on the mosque. So he did not see the gunman pointing an assault rifle at his back.
But Justin did.
He fired a single round that entered the gunman’s head. He toppled over the balcony’s railing and fell head first to the ground, landing a few feet away from Lukas. Startled, he turned and pointed his weapon at the dead gunman. Then Lukas looked up, and his eyes met Justin’s. “Hey, thanks.”
“No problem,” Justin said. “I’ve got your back.”
He searched for other shooters popping from any of the surrounding buildings’ windows, balconies, or rooftops. Seeing nothing, he hurried behind Lukas, who was jogging toward the mosque. Flames had engulfed two of the windows and were leaping at the doorframe. “I’ll take the first two windows,” he shouted.
“I’ve got the door,” Lukas shouted back.
Justin glanced back at Carrie, who was about seven steps behind. She nodded at him and gestured toward the third window. “That’s mine,” she said.
Justin nodded, then glanced at the first window from behind the sight of his pistol. He was not expecting anyone to be alive, after the series of explosions and the fierce firefight. But protocols were in place for a reason—to keep agents alive—and Justin was not going to make a rookie mistake. Assume everyone’s still alive until you’ve made sure everyone’s dead. That was the CIS motto, and Justin lived by it every single day.
He cleared the first corner of the room as much as he could, considering the bright orange flames and the billowing gray smoke. Then he crouched and moved to the other side, repeating the same procedure. But he had an uncomfortable feeling about it, so he shouted, “Uncertain about this room. Stay alert.”
Lukas nodded, then he stepped through the door.
Gunfire rang from inside the mosque.
Justin peered through the smoke curtain but did not see any shooters. “Carrie?”
“Nothing,” she replied with a headshake.
“Let’s follow Lukas.”
Justin crouched again as he went underneath the window, then lowered his head to avoid the flames eating up the wooden doorframe. The hall inside the mosque was wide, and there was less smoke than he had expected. He saw Lukas pointing his pistol at a man lying on the ground, then the Austrian agent cursed in German. Justin said, “What is it?”
“That’s Hadad.” Lukas cocked his head toward the man. “And he’s dead.”
Justin nodded. “Yes, that’s too bad. But he knew the risks.”
“Yeah, well, we’ve lost him. And Gunther will be mad.”
“Hey, this ain’t your fault.”
Lukas swore at both Hadad and Gunther. “I knew this was going to happen, and I told you. I said the asset had no training.”
Justin shrugged. “Yes, you did. So you have no reason to worry about Captain Gunther. You made your voice heard, but it was he who made the decision.”
“Gunther will look for a scapegoat. He always does. And he’ll put the blame on me.”
“Not this time. Even though Hadad’s gone, we got the sheikh. This mission was successful.”
“Oh, I’m not sure. Haven’t found his body yet.”
“We’ll find him pretty soon. Unless Team A got it.”
A rustle came from the right, further deep inside the mosque.
Justin and Lukas aimed their pistols in that direction.
“Friendlies, friendlies coming your way,” came Vale’s strong voice.
“Got it,” Justin replied.
“Half the mosque’s clear,” Vale said.
“The sheikh?”
“Dead. Blown up. Almost unrecognizable.”
Justin glanced at Lukas. “There you have it. The good news that should calm down your boss. But even if it doesn’t, we’ll be there with you to face Gunther’s outburst.”
Lukas exhaled and shook his head. “You haven’t met Gunther yet. But you’ll get your chance. I’d take another firefight rather than deal with that son of a—”
Justin smiled and patted Lukas on the back. “Oh, c’mon, Lukas, how bad can it be?”