Ten minutes later Roger was speeding across Long Island with Will seated next to him.
Will pulled out his cell phone. He called Laith and listened to what the CIA man had to say.
“I was just about to call you. She left her Washington hotel three hours ago. I’ve followed her in a car to New York. I thought she was going into midtown, but ten minutes ago she turned north and is heading away from New York City. I’ve no idea where she’s going. Do you want me to stop her?”
Will thought for a moment. He cursed Lana’s desire for revenge. But he also knew that as reckless and foolhardy as her actions were, she was now offering them some hope. He said, “No. I think she’s heading for our man. Do nothing yet, but it’s imperative that you stay close to her and keep her safe.”
He called Ben, and it was obvious that he had woken the man. “You and Julian need to get on the road right now. Head north. Bring whatever weapons and equipment you can lay your hands on. We’ll need enough for a major assault. Laith is mobile and following Lana in a northerly direction out of New York. I’ll link communications among us all so that we can coordinate our routes.”
Then he called Patrick. “Stay by your phone and reject all calls unless they’re from me or one of my team.” He gave a quick update, then said, “This is our last opportunity to catch him. And I’m taking that opportunity.”
He reached down into the vehicle’s cup holder, grabbed Roger’s cell phone and hands-free device, and punched in the numbers to set the handset on conference call with all members of the CIA team. He fitted an earpiece over Roger’s ear. The man nodded and drove faster.
Fifteen minutes later Roger muttered to Will, “Ben and Julian are in a vehicle. Laith’s giving them directions, but they’re going to have to drive like a bat out of hell given that they’re still in Washington.”
“Get their license-plate number.”
Roger did so and relayed the information to Will.
Will called Patrick and gave him the details of Ben and Julian’s vehicle as well as details of his own vehicle. “I’ve no idea how you are going to do so, but make sure every cop in this part of your country knows that their career or life will be over if they try to stop our cars for traffic violations.”
Within forty minutes they were traveling on the New York State Thruway. Will watched their surroundings change from city to suburbia to wooded land. He tried to relax, but his mind and body were tense and alive again. The failure he’d felt during the last twelve hours had been replaced with a reinvigorated sense of purpose, focus, and strength. But the anger he’d felt at Lana’s stupidity remained within him—as did his overwhelming concern for her safety.
He gave up trying to relax and instead tried to think clearly, to muster all his mental strength in order to piece together the preceding events and make sense of them. He thought about what had happened in Boston, what had happened in the hotel room in Washington, D.C., the failure he’d felt despite establishing that Camp David was Megiddo’s target, and he thought about what was happening now. More than anything, he thought about what was happening now. Thoughts, questions, and suppositions raced chaotically through his mind, and he discarded most of them. Some he did not. He wondered why one of Megiddo’s men would have been so careless to mention the Camp David assault to Lana. He wondered why Megiddo and his men were still in New York State, given that Megiddo must know that his assault on Camp David would now be easily repelled. He frowned as more thoughts seemed to come together, thoughts that stood out from the others, thoughts that then rammed his body to attention and forced him to grab his cell phone, punch numbers rapidly into it, and wait impatiently while he listened to it ring on the other end.
Patrick answered.
Will spoke quickly and urgently. “Camp David’s not the target. I repeat, not the target.”
“What!”
“Not the target. It doesn’t make sense. Megiddo’s probably spent years planning this operation. He would have thought through every angle. He never would have allowed one of his men to leak details about his target to Lana.”
“Then why the hell did Lana tell us he was striking Camp David?”
Will breathed rapidly. “She told us the truth. She told us exactly what Megiddo wanted us to hear in case she and I were rescued from the Hotel Monaco torture room.”
“Oh, damn!” Patrick’s own breathing sounded swift and heavy. “He got one of his men to deliberately feed her a lie so she’d pass it on to us.”
“Exactly.” Will could feel his heart pounding in his own ears. “What could be worse than an attack on the premiers at Camp David?”
“I don’t know.”
“It has to be a target in New York State, because he and his men are still here.”
“I agree, but I don’t know.” Patrick sounded exasperated. “I can contact the critical agencies, however, and place the whole eastern seaboard on high alert.”
Will shook his head vigorously. “Absolutely not. Megiddo will go to ground. We have a last chance to catch this monster and finally stop him.”
Patrick said nothing for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “All right, Will. But I’m placing all my trust in you. I’ve got no other option.”
Will ended the call.
Roger glanced at him. “Why don’t we just stop her and force her to tell us where she’s going?”
Will shook his head. “Megiddo’s men are almost certainly watching her. If we move in, they’ll alert him.”
“Then call her. Tell her not to slow down, but ask her for details over the phone.”
Will shook his head. “No.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because while I’m damn sure I know what’s happening, I’m also damn sure I’ve underestimated Megiddo in the past. He could be monitoring her phone. He could be doing any number of things, and at this precise stage I am not one step ahead of him. I’m several steps behind. For the moment we have to just follow Lana until we can be certain where she’s going. At that stage we’ll move in and stop her.”
Roger nodded. “Lana’s car and Laith’s car are ninety minutes ahead of us, but we’re closing in on them.”
“What about Ben and Julian?”
Roger smiled. “By the sound of things, Ben’s driving their vehicle beyond all legal limits.” He pressed a button on the phone to turn on its speakerphone, and Julian’s commentary instantly shouted out over the noise of their vehicle’s engine.
“Clear of Harrisburg, on to the seventy-eight. No vehicles ahead, traveling at one-thirty MPH, increasing speed.”
Roger turned the phone back to normal and spoke. “Laith, update please.” He listened, nodded, then relayed the information to Will. “Lana’s in upstate New York now, driving at normal speeds.”
Will rubbed a hand over his face and said, “If she’s heading back to the house she was taken to by Megiddo’s men, why is he still there? Megiddo must know that she set his men up after we killed them in the Hotel Monaco.”
Roger held his index finger in the air, and it was clear that he was listening to his phone. He nodded and quickly glanced at Will. “Lana’s stopped her vehicle, has gotten out, and is checking a map.”
Will nodded his understanding. “She’s not been to the place before.” He looked out the car window. The scenery around them had become rugged and hilly. “So how the hell does she know where they are?”
Roger glanced at Will with a look of impatience. “She found something when she was in the house with them, something that gave her a clue where they were going.” He changed gears as they sped around a bend in the road, and the car screeched forward at an even greater speed. “She wants her revenge. She was never going to let them disappear from sight.” He paused, listening to his phone. “But wherever she’s going, she’s on the move again.”
They passed Lake George and Schroon Lake before moving northwest on Route 73. Hills were now being replaced with snow-covered mountains.
Roger spoke while continuing to scrutinize the route ahead. “Ben’s made up incredible ground. Their vehicle’s now only sixty kilometers behind us.” He frowned, clearly listening to his phone, and said nothing for a minute before saying, “Okay, I’ll get instructions from Will.” He slowed the vehicle and looked at Will. “Laith’s just reported that Lana’s stopped and exited her car in a wooded area near the town of Saranac Lake. She’s walking away from her vehicle. And she’s holding a handgun.”
“Damn it.” Will punched the dashboard.
“Do you want Laith to stop her?”
Will just banged his fist repeatedly against the dashboard.
“Will, do you want her stopped?” Roger’s voice was tense and firm.
Will exhaled and stopped punching. “Stop her. Get her out of there!” He ran his fingers through his hair.
Roger nodded and relayed the instruction over his telephone. Will watched the CIA man. He saw his eyes quickly narrow, and he saw that he was listening intently to his cell phone’s earpiece.
“What’s happening?”
Roger held a hand up again, wearing a look of total concentration. He spoke to the phone. “Absolutely not. You’re outgunned, and you’ll panic them into retreating and disappearing. Get as close to the building as you can, and get me an accurate layout of the place. But for God’s sake stay out of sight.” His voice became louder. “Ben, Julian—where are you?” He exhaled loudly. “Thirty isn’t good enough. We need you here in ten minutes maximum.” He looked at Will. “Megiddo’s men have her.”
“What happened?” Will shouted the words.
“Laith ran after her, got close to her, and saw that she was approaching a lakeside lodge. As she approached the place, men surrounded her, disarmed her, and dragged her into the building. Laith had to duck out of sight. But when the men’s backs were turned, he wanted to go straight in and fight them on his own. You heard my response.” Roger removed his earpiece, switched the phone into speaker mode, and pulled out his handgun.
Julian’s voice was instant and urgent. “Hard right in twenty. Accelerate. Sweeping left. East right, hairpin bend. Oncoming vehicle. Straight road. Accelerate now.”
Will’s heart pumped fast, and adrenaline coursed through his body. He punched the dashboard again and swore. When he looked out the window now, he could see road signs telling him that they were only four miles from Saranac Lake. He looked at Roger and spoke with urgency. “Do you know anything about this area?”
Roger shrugged. “I’ve never been here before, but I know it’s got three lakes and is surrounded by forest and the Adirondack Mountains. Lana’s been taken to a lodge on one of the lakes. I’m betting it will be as isolated and as good a place as any to have our gunfight.”
Will clenched his fists again. “We save her, and if he’s there, we capture Megiddo alive. But everyone else dies.”
Roger nodded. “Damn right.”
Roger slowed their vehicle and then stopped by a deserted woodland picnic area. He looked at Will and said, “We’re one mile from the target. I’m not going to drive any farther.” He picked up his phone and advised his men of his location.
Will called Patrick and gave him a full update.
Both men got out of the car, and Will withdrew his weapon. He looked at his watch and muttered, “Come on, come on.”
He heard tires screeching and the high-pitched whine of engine noise. It grew louder, and soon he saw Ben’s car hurtling toward him along a narrow track at what must have been ninety miles an hour. The vehicle swerved sideways, skidded, and then came to a stop. Julian and Ben instantly jumped out and walked to the rear of their vehicle. Both men’s faces were covered in sweat, and their hair looked sodden. They were opening the trunk as Will and Roger ran up to them.
“I’ve done some fast trips in my time,” Julian said with a smile, opening one of two duffel bags inside the trunk, “but the one we’ve just made takes the prize.”
Ben and Julian started withdrawing weapons and other equipment from the bags and laying them out in the trunk. Will saw Colt M4A1 assault rifles with attached scopes and flashlights, Heckler & Koch MP5-N submachine guns, MK23 pistols with KAC sound suppressors, a Barrett M82A1 fifty-caliber sniper rifle, combat knives, and waterproof tactical communications systems. Roger moved closer to his men and started checking the weaponry. Like Will, the CIA men were all dressed as if they were about to embark on a mountain hike.
Will breathed in deeply.
He saw memories and images: A young boy waving good-bye to his father. Megiddo carefully attaching a saline drip to his father’s body. The boy sitting on his father’s lap as the man read a story to him. Megiddo cutting off his father’s feet. His father smiling as the boy ran toward him. A man who no longer looked like his father being dumped into the sea. The boy now angry, scared, and alone. The boy changing into a man who had no fear, who embraced isolation, anger, and death and nothing else. He saw the man he now was—a man who had decided to change all that and be with Lana, a man who was now in severe danger of losing that woman, of losing peace, happiness, everything.
Roger came to his side. The man lowered his gaze for a moment before looking at Will. “There’s no turning back now. There’s going to be a lot of killing.”
Will stared at him. “That’s what we do.”
“It is.” Roger glanced at the vehicle and his men before looking back at Will. He took his arm, pulled him a few paces away from Ben and Julian, and spoke very quietly. “Patrick told me that Megiddo killed your father.”
Will nodded. “And no doubt Patrick gave you a secret instruction to stop me from killing him if we capture him?”
Roger shrugged. “He did. But I’m not going to.”
Will said nothing.
“If you let Megiddo live,” Roger said, “you’ll have to spend the rest of your life knowing that you could have avenged your father but chose not to. If you kill him, you may have to spend the rest of your life knowing that your vengeance allowed thousands of people in this country to die. I don’t have to live with the consequences of either decision, but you do.” He looked at Will. “What you do now must be your decision and your decision alone, and I’m not going to get in the way of that.”
Will nodded slowly. “There is a third option. I’ll get his secret and then I’ll kill him.”
Jogging, Laith emerged from the trees but then slowed to a walk. He approached Will and Roger.
“I counted eight of them around the place,” he spoke quickly. “There are almost certainly more of them inside.”
“What guns are they carrying?” Roger asked.
“Three of them have shotguns, and the rest are holding automatic machine guns. Plus they’re all carrying sidearms.”
“What about Lana?” Roger beckoned to Julian and Ben, and the two men walked over to join them.
Laith shook his head. “No sign of her since they took her in there.”
Will and Roger looked at each other. Will looked back at Laith and said, “Tell us about the place.”
Laith crouched down in front of the four men and pulled out a knife. “Lower Saranac Lake looks like this.” He began carving lines in the snow. “It’s got about twenty tiny islands, and most of them are in the middle here. The lodge is on the east side of the lake, on the lake’s edge.”
“Are there other lodges, properties, or sites near the place?” Roger was carefully studying Laith’s growing makeshift map.
“None.” The ex–Delta operative didn’t look up as he continued his task. “Unlike the other Saranac Lakes, this one’s state-owned, and there’s restricted property development around it. Our boys have obviously chosen it because they know they won’t be disturbed there.”
“What’s the layout of the building?” Julian wanted to know.
“It’s rectangular in shape, it’s got a boathouse to the north here, and a pier goes straight out from the porch onto the water here. The lodge is on two floors and by my calculations has twelve rooms in total. Entrances to the building are here, here, here, and here. There’s one road into and out of the place.” Remaining in his crouch, Laith took a couple of steps back. “The area to the south is clear of trees for twenty-five meters, but we’re fortunate because there’s not much open ground around the north and northeast of the building.”
Ben asked, “Where are the men?”
“They’re rotating around the building, but at all times there are men to the north, east, and south.” Laith jabbed his knife into the snow to show the positions. “And they always have two men on the pier to protect the lodge from the lakeside.”
Will looked at Roger. “What do you think?”
Roger stared at the map and said nothing for a moment. He then nodded and said, “I don’t think it’s worth waiting for nightfall, because I doubt they’ll cut back their numbers then. In any case, time is not on our side. I think we go for it now.”
“I agree.” Will looked at the other men, and they all nodded. He looked back at Roger. “You’re in charge of the assault. Where do you want us?”
Roger drew a deep breath and said, “Ben and I will approach the building from the northeast. We’ll take out the men there, and I’ll then enter the building through the north door and Ben will take this entrance on the east. Will and Julian are going to approach the building from the south. You’ll have to get wet to avoid the open ground. Julian can get into the building through the south door. Will, you keep going until you get to the pier.” Roger looked up. “Laith, you’ll be our sniper. I need you on this island , but to get to it you’re going to need to swim six hundred meters with the fifty-caliber rifle on your back. And judging by the weather, you may have to break through ice along the way.” He smiled with a look of mischief. “That’s a job for a SEAL, not a Delta man, but I need to be in the lodge to issue commands. Do you think you can make the swim?”
Laith returned his smile. “Do you think you’ll be able to shoot straight on dry land?”
“I’m sure we’ll both do just fine.” Roger looked down at the map again, and his face grew serious. “The first kills will have to be synchronized, and Laith will instruct us when that’s to happen. Once we’re in the house, we go through it room by room.” He swept a hand over the snow. “And none of the targets must be allowed to escape the property.” Roger stood up. “When it’s over, we’ll bring our vehicles to the lodge for extraction of any prisoners.”
Ben asked, “Where are we driving to afterward?”
Roger shrugged. “Patrick’s working on that right now.” He looked at each man. “Any other questions?”
They all shook their heads.
It was now midafternoon, and the air was clean and still. Will nodded at the men. “There’s nothing left to be said. Let’s go.”
They all walked back to Ben’s vehicle and began arming themselves. Will donned communications equipment, gathered up a knife and pistol, which he secreted in his jacket pockets, and strapped a Colt M4A1 assault rifle to his chest. He saw Roger, Ben, and Julian choose their own weapons and watched as Laith checked the workings of the powerful sniper rifle. Will placed his cell phone into a waterproof pouch and tucked the parcel into an inner jacket pocket. The vehicles were locked, their keys were hidden under front tires, and they all walked out of the picnic area into the forest that stretched before them.
They were approaching their destination from the south, and though he could not yet see it, Will knew that the lake would be to his left. They walked slowly and in single file with five meters of space between men. Laith led the way, and occasionally he would signal silently for them to stop while he crouched and examined the route ahead of him through his rifle’s telescopic sight. They continued like this for thirty minutes before Laith stopped again, turned to face them all, pointed at his own chest and then at another direction. He left them, and Will knew that the man was heading to the lake to brave the freezing swim across to his sniper position on the island. They stayed still for nearly forty minutes before they heard Laith’s voice in their earpieces.
“I’m in position.”
They moved with Julian now leading the way. The area around them was quite flat but dense with trees. They walked carefully and silently. Within ten minutes Julian stopped and pointed at Ben. Julian walked in a crouch position back toward Will and stayed beside him. The two men watched Ben and Roger move onward and out of their sight. They waited for fifteen minutes before Will heard Roger speak.
“We’re in position.”
Will looked at Julian. The man nodded at him and moved off toward their left. Will followed, staying low. Within minutes they were at the lake’s edge.
Julian moved up close to Will and cupped a hand around Will’s ear. He whispered, “The house should be two hundred meters along the shore.”
They followed the shoreline for approximately eighty meters, and then Julian stopped, turned a little, and walked slowly into the water until he was standing waist-deep in the lake. He unstrapped his Colt assault rifle and lowered himself so that only his head was visible. Will moved into the water as well and immediately felt how cold it was. He focused his mind, controlled his breathing, and followed Julian.
He saw the lodge. He saw one man standing by the southeast corner of the building and two men standing on the pier over the lake. He watched Julian’s head submerge and knew that the man was now going to swim underwater to his position. Will looked ahead and estimated that he would need to swim a hundred meters underwater to get beneath the pier without being seen. He inhaled several times, relaxed his body, and sank down. He swam out to deeper water before turning back to face the direction of the pier. Swimming onward, he ignored the cold and the ever-increasing pain from lack of oxygen. He counted his strokes in order to gauge the distance traveled, and within three minutes he knew that he must be close to the pier. He gradually moved up in the water and saw the dark shape of the jetty before him. He swam until he was underneath it and then slowly allowed himself to rise until his head was out of the water. He sucked in air silently and moved toward one side of the pier, turning to look away from the lodge and out to the lake. Ahead of him and more than half a kilometer away was the largest of the many lake islands. Laith was on that island, and Will waited to hear him speak.
“I see you, Will.” Laith’s voice was very quiet. “Move back and along that side of the pier until I tell you to stop.”
Will moved several meters back.
“Stop.”
He stopped.
Julian spoke. “I’m in position.”
And Roger spoke. “Everything is set. Laith, you control the green light.”
Will waited for nearly thirty seconds before he heard Laith speak again.
“Okay, there’s movement behind some of the windows on my side of the lodge, so we’re going to have to time this right. Will, you’re two meters below one of the men on the pier. I’ll take the other man, but everyone wait for my command.”
Will pulled out his combat knife and carefully placed his free hand on one of the pier struts and one of his feet on a lower strut. He stayed in that position for nearly two minutes. A light snowfall began to descend over him.
“On my command . . .” Laith paused. “Go!”
Will pulled and thrust upward until he was fully out of the water and jumping vertically through the air. Within a split second, he saw a man standing with his back to him and had grabbed that man’s head, placed his knife against his throat, and cut deep into him as they both fell toward the lake. Before hitting the water and submerging, Will heard the crack of Laith’s rifle, and he knew that the other guard on the pier was dead. Will held his captive firmly in his grip and ignored the man’s thrashing legs as they both sank down toward the lake bed and as Will continued to saw through his throat.
Will let the dead man drift away from him and hauled himself back onto the pier. He sprinted toward the lodge, unstrapping his assault rifle. He spotted a man emerging from the lake-facing lodge door and saw that he was carrying a shotgun. One of Laith’s fifty-caliber bullets removed the man’s head from his body. Gunfire could now be heard in every direction, and as he reached the house, he heard Roger speak in a loud but controlled tone.
“We’re in.”
Will paused to one side of the door, glanced in, and entered the lodge. The noise within the place was deafening, and his ears instantly began to ring. He saw a woman run into the corridor he was in, turn, and then point a handgun at him. Will shot her across her chest and face. A man looked out of a room on the right-hand side of the corridor and, after seeing Will, just as quickly disappeared back into the room. He pointed a gun from inside the room and fired it blindly toward Will’s position. Will saw the man’s body fall into the corridor. Julian emerged from the room, glanced at Will, and kept walking.
Will moved along the corridor, ignoring the sounds of rapid machine-gun fire from the rooms around him. He saw stairs and climbed them slowly. A man appeared at the top of the stairwell and threw something before jumping backward. Will sprinted up the stairs shouting, “Grenade!”
As he reached the grenade thrower, he kicked the man in the stomach and pumped a burst of bullets into him, sending him falling backward. Will glanced over his shoulder, saw Julian at the bottom of the stairs, saw him quickly look first at Will and then at the grenade, and then saw him hurl his body over the explosive. His body blew apart into tiny pieces of flesh. Will knew that the man had sacrificed himself to protect him. He raised his M4A1 high and walked forward, scanning doorways to his left and right. He heard gunfire from one of the rooms and saw a man emerge from it in a crouch. Will swung his weapon toward the man but then realized that the man was Ben. He took a deep breath and moved on.
Laith spoke. “I can see two men in top-floor room three east.”
Will and Ben moved together until they reached the door to that room. They stood on either side of the door, and then Ben turned, kicked it in, and stepped inside. Will followed him, heard the sound of Ben’s gun, and then saw a man to his right. Will shot the man, spun around, and walked out of the room.
Ben came alongside him and pointed at the last room along the corridor. “Every room up here’s been checked apart from that one.”
Will heard Laith’s sniper rifle crack before the CIA man said, “No more hostiles in my vision.”
He heard Roger shout over thunderous noise, “There are plenty of damned hostiles where I am!”
He looked at Ben.
Ben nodded, smiled, and kicked in the final door.
It happened in a fraction of a second. The door swung two or three inches before Will saw the wire. Before he shouted, “Trap!” Before he and Ben were lifted off their feet by the force of the explosion. Before Will landed on his back several meters away from the entrance. Before pieces of Ben’s destroyed torso fell around and over him. Before his vision and hearing ceased working.
Will lay breathing heavily. He pressed his fingers into the wooden floor around him. He tried to feel things. He tried to move his legs. He tried to think. But he had no sense of time, no sense of location, and little sense of self.
He lay there and tried to muster any thoughts. Only one came to him: If you keep lying here, you will fail and die.
He shook his head and pressed his fingertips even harder into the floor. He focused on his hands and his arms. He focused only on the need for them to push him up from the floor.
A distant sound came to his ears. At first it seemed like gentle whistling, but the noise grew louder until it became the roar of the continuing battle in the house. He shook his head again, yelled out, and thrust with his hands and arms. He sat upright. Thought, sight, and hearing all came back to him with an immediacy that made him reel. He looked around and saw pieces of flesh everywhere.
He looked at the blown-apart doorway. He hauled himself to his feet, felt that he was going to collapse, but staggered forward a few paces until he seemed steady. He picked up his assault rifle, checked to see that it was undamaged, and walked close to the room. He crouched by the side of the door, gripping his gun. He decided that if there was anyone in the room, he would kill that person without any consideration for the consequences.
He moved quickly into the room with his weapon held high. The place had chairs, a bed, a television, and an open window. But no person, living or dead.
Laith’s strained voice broke into his thoughts. “Eleven—no, twelve hostiles coming to the house through the woods from the north.” There was silence for a few seconds before he added, “I can take some of them.”
The distinct sound of Laith’s Barrett M82A1 fifty-caliber weapon could be heard all around the place.
Roger shouted, “Ground floor clear! It’s a fucking mess!”
Laith said in a more controlled and quiet voice, “One down. Two down. Now three down.” He shouted, “I see snipers! Two of them!”
Roger entered the room. He was covered in sweat and black soot. He walked quickly up to Will and grabbed him by the arm. “What happened?”
Will sucked in air. “Ben and Julian are dead. Both of them stood in the way of explosive blasts that were meant for me.” He looked at the open window and then at Roger. “Megiddo must have escaped through there.”
Roger nodded quickly and spoke into his communication microphone. “Laith, just two of us left in here. We’re going after our man, but you need to take out those snipers.”
Two high-velocity rifle shots could be heard almost simultaneously. They did not sound like Laith’s weapon.
Roger turned sharply in their direction. He shouted, “Laith? Laith?” He kicked at a nearby chair, sending it crashing to the other side of the room.
“They must have killed him. It’s just us now, Roger.” Will looked at the window again. “I’m going after Megiddo. But there must be at least nine hostiles still coming our way. Do you think you can keep some of them off my back?”
Roger nodded and ran out of the room.
Will sprinted and jumped through the open window. He fell eight meters before hitting the ground and rolling over snow. He crouched, looking left and right through his rifle’s sight.
He heard Roger’s voice. “I’m out of the house and one hundred meters to the north. I count seven men coming toward me, but I can’t see the two snipers.”
“Can you see anything else? Lana? Vehicles? Movement on the lake?”
“There’s nothing else.”
Shit. Will looked away from Roger’s hidden position to the north of the lodge and turned to face the south. He looked out at the lake to his right and at the island where Laith now lay silent. He looked ahead again. Everywhere before him was forest, and its trees were laden with snow. Six kilometers in the distance, one of the Adirondack mountains looked down at him and everything around him.
“There’s no way to be sure,” he said to Roger, “but I’ve got to assume he’s heading south, away from the firefight.”
“Maybe he was never here.”
Will thought about the room’s booby trap. He pictured Ben’s body being torn apart by its violent force. “No. That room was important. He was here.”
“Then look for high ground. That’s where he’ll go. He’ll wait there until his men have killed us all.”
Will narrowed his eyes and focused on the mountain in the distance. He heard Roger’s MP5-N submachine gun suddenly emit short, controlled bursts. He knew that Roger was now occupied and that he was on his own. He tightened his grip on his assault rifle and ran.
He dodged between and around trees, the entire time alternating his gaze between what lay ahead and to his sides and on the ground, desperately scanning for footprints in the snow or freshly broken foliage—any signs of Megiddo’s route. He sprinted until the lake was no longer by his side. He sprinted until he was at least one kilometer from the lodge.
Roger shouted, “Two confirmed kills, but the bastards are flanking me! I’m dead if I hold my position!”
Will immediately stopped. “Get out of there, Roger.”
“Not until you have your man in your sights.”
Will kicked the ground in frustration. He looked ahead at the elevating ground. He looked back in the direction of the lodge and Roger’s dire position. He cursed and pointed his gun at the sky. He fired all the bullets that remained in his magazine. The noise from his gun echoed and bounced around the lake valley.
“If that was you”—Roger was almost screaming over the sound of his own machine gun—“then you definitely got their attention! The four men on my right flank are leaving me alone! You’ve given me a chance! But those four hostiles are coming for you!”
Will placed a new clip into his rifle and sprinted onward. Fresh snow started to fall in gentle flurries, and he fervently hoped that it was not going to become heavier and destroy any chances he had of finding tracks. He ran for another two kilometers, and all the time he could hear gunfire coming from the area around the lodge.
When the gunfire stopped, so did Will, momentarily. He jabbed a finger against his earpiece and waited. He sighed with relief as he heard Roger’s voice.
“All hostiles by the lodge are dead. You’ve still got four on your tail, though, and there’s no sign of the snipers. But I’m coming for you.”
“I’m about two point five kilometers away from you. Head toward the mountain.”
Fresh wind blew into Will’s face. He looked at the sky and its darkening clouds and shook his head. He wondered if the assault on the house had been in vain. He wondered if the bravery and sacrifice of Julian, Ben, and Laith would ultimately be meaningless. He wondered if Roger would be able to stay alive. And he wondered if today would be the day his own life came to a pointless end.
He forced his legs into action and pumped them harder to accelerate over the thick snow and rising ground. His breathing came loud, and his lungs ached from the icy air. He ran faster until he’d covered another two kilometers, still constantly scanning his surroundings.
Then he saw them.
They were two distant dots at first, but when he looked through his rifle’s scope, he saw a man and a woman running up the lower slopes of the mountain. He adjusted the scope to intensify and magnify the image. He saw that the woman was Lana. The man had his back to him and was pulling Lana’s arm.
Will clasped his fingers to his throat mike and shouted, “I have a visual! One man and Lana! At the base of the mountain!”
The noise of a rifle shot boomed through the valley behind him. Will called, “Roger?”
A few seconds later, Roger spoke. His voice sounded weak. “Hold on, Will . . . busy.”
More gunfire could be heard, and it sounded like it was coming from Roger’s weapon.
Then Roger spoke again. “One sniper confirmed dead. But he shot me first.”
“How bad?”
“Not critical. But it tore out a chunk of my calf muscle. Short of dragging myself along the ground, I’m immobile.”
“I’m coming to get you.”
“No, you’re not, Will.” The man’s voice was raspy but firm. “You’re going to get them.”
Will stomped the ground in frustration. “All right. Stay where you are. Stay in radio communication. Shoot anything that comes near you.”
He quickly glanced through his scope again and estimated that his quarry was approximately fifteen hundred meters ahead of him. He inhaled deeply and ran forward. After ten minutes he knew he was now at the base of the mountain. He saw footprints and felt an immediate sense of hope.
“Can you see me from your position?” he asked Roger.
Roger’s words were strained. “No. The trees are too dense. But”—he paused—“I’m using the dead sniper’s rifle scope to look around the area between us both. I’m getting brief glimpses of the men on your trail, but they’re so brief that I’m not getting any chance for clear shots. The men are about one kilometer behind you. I still can’t see the other sniper, though.”
“Understood.”
A loud crack sounded by Will’s ear, and he was instantly thrown sideways. He put a hand to his head and felt blood and shards of wood. Looking at the tree next to him, he saw that a high-velocity bullet had hit it and sent splinters straight into his face. He pulled himself into a crouch and glanced behind him. He knew that the bullet had come from the sniper. He was now within deadly range of that man’s weapon.
“Roger, the sniper’s onto me.”
Roger coughed. “The one I killed was wearing an arctic camouflage suit. That’s why I didn’t spot him until it was too late. You’ve got to take your man out, or he’ll easily kill you before you get halfway up the mountain.”
Will looked in the direction of Lana and her captor, then back in the direction of the valley, and knew that Roger was right. He quickly examined the bullet mark on the tree again and decided that the man must have made the shot from the east. He decided that the shooter was on his own and away from his colleagues to the south. He had to be close to make a meaningful shot through the wooded area around them. Will calculated that his assailant had no reason to deviate from his easterly position, given that the very last thing he would expect was for his target to turn back and try to hunt him down. Will strapped his carbine to his chest, pulled out his combat knife, and commenced his hunt.
He jogged downhill, and despite zigzagging to make his route unpredictable, he knew he was still an easy target for the sniper. He wanted it that way. His only plan was to expose the sniper by encouraging him to shoot at him, since he didn’t have time for a more sophisticated and patient tactic. But he knew that the chances of his being shot were great, and he knew that if the high-velocity bullet hit him anywhere in the upper thigh or above the waist, he would most likely die from the wound. He resisted the urge to sprint and instead kept his pace steady.
He reached a small clearing, stopped, and looked around. He listened but heard nothing. Snowflakes caressed his face. He moved ahead into denser forest and then caught the very slightest of movements in his peripheral vision. He turned to face the direction of the movement but saw nothing, and he wondered if his eyes were deceiving him. He moved again just as a very loud crack sounded close by, followed by a rush of air close to his head. He saw a flash of light and realized that it belonged to a rifle scope. Behind the scope was a man whose white combat clothing made him barely visible against the backdrop of snow. The man was pointing his rifle at him. The man was only forty meters away.
Will dived sideways just as another shot was fired. He immediately got up and sprinted at the sniper while the man was frantically trying to chamber another round into his weapon. The man slammed the bolt action of his rifle forward as Will came to within a few meters of him. He raised his weapon, but Will hurled himself forward and crashed into the sniper. Legs and arms lashed out violently at Will’s head and body, and he was pushed back a little with the force. Smashing the butt of his rifle into Will’s head, the sniper tried to break away. Will shook his head in pain and knew that the man needed a few meters of distance from him in order to shoot. He did not hesitate. He pulled himself to his feet, kept his head low, gripped his knife tightly, and charged at the man. When he reached him, he raised his upper body, grabbed the back of the man’s neck, and punched the knife into his stomach. Despite the thick padding of the arctic camouflage, the knife easily sliced through clothing and flesh until its blade was fully inside the man’s body. Will held him like that for a moment and then wrenched the knife upward so that the sniper’s entire stomach was ripped open. He pulled out his knife and watched the sniper’s pure white suit become saturated with his blood. He let the man fall backward, unstrapped his assault rifle, and shot him twice in the head.
Will breathed heavily and spoke into his throat mike. “The second sniper’s dead.”
Roger’s reply was instant. “You’ve got no time to stand still. I can see that the four-man team has fanned out, meaning they’ve lost your position. But they’re close to you.”
“Are you sure that you can’t pick any of them off with your rifle?”
Roger said nothing for a moment. Then: “I’ve tied the rifle to a tree to try to enable a steady shot. And I’ve tied myself to the same tree.”
Will closed his eyes, sighed, and spoke softly. “How much blood have you lost, Roger?”
“Enough to make my arms and legs shake and make shooting near-impossible. Not enough to stop talking to you.” He coughed. “A little blood loss doesn’t bother me. I’ll do what I can. Just focus on what you have to do.”
Will opened his eyes, rubbed a bruise on the side of his head, and winced in pain from the touch. He gulped in air and ran back toward the mountain and Lana and the man who was dragging her up its slopes. Snow still fell serenely, at odds with what was happening here. Will ran faster than he thought he was capable of until he reached the point where he’d last seen his quarry. He looked through his small rifle scope but saw nothing ahead, so he urgently scoured the ground for the footprints he’d seen earlier. He found them, now under a powdering of fresh snow, and sprinted onward. His feet trampled over the route that Lana and the man had taken.
The ground rose sharply, causing Will to slow. He looked left and right, trying to find any evidence of a mountain track to aid his ascent, but everything around him was wild and inhospitable.
Five or six bullets hit snow-covered ground in rapid succession to his left. They were wide of their mark, and Will knew that they’d come from an automatic weapon. But he also knew that he’d been momentarily spotted by at least one of the hostiles behind him. He looked down at the footprints and saw that they followed an almost straight route up the mountain. Will thought for a moment. He made a decision and ran to the right of the tracks as fast as the severity of the grade would allow him to. After traveling for three hundred meters, he stopped, breathing heavily. He turned, sat down on the snowy slope, calmed his breathing, and scoured the area below him through his rifle scope. Everywhere was beautiful, with the Saranac Lakes in the distance, the hills around them, a carpet of pure white snow covering all ground and trees. Will ignored the beauty of his surroundings and focused on finding the man who had shot at him so that he could kill him.
He spoke to Roger and gave the CIA man his approximate location. “One of the hostiles is close to me. Can you see anything?”
Roger took a moment to respond, and Will knew that he would be searching for signs of life through the powerful lens of his sniper rifle. His words came quick and quiet. “I saw something, just briefly, to your southwest and approaching the base of the mountain.”
Will swung his rifle in that direction, moving it so that it was looking between trees, at ground, at streams.
“Movement again.” Roger’s words were barely audible. “Same location. He must be about nine hundred meters from your position.”
Will breathed deeply. Then he saw the man and stopped breathing. The man was walking quickly and carried his rifle in one hand. His head and upper body were bent down. He was clearly moving to another position to try to shoot Will. And he was clearly oblivious to the fact that Will could now see him.
Will relaxed his body, moved the crosshairs of his scope slightly in front of the moving man’s head, and waited for the right moment. The distance between himself and the hostile was at least twice the effective range of the Colt M4A1, and Will knew that he would have only one chance of hitting the man. If he missed, the man would sprint for cover and vanish. His quarry appeared and disappeared through trees and was heading toward a large outcropping of mountain rock. Will decided that he had to shoot the man before he reached it. He breathed in fully, then partially breathed out before holding his breath. He waited. He shot.
The man slumped to the ground. Will’s bullet had struck him in the center of his head.
Will stood and turned back to face the steep incline of the mountain. “He’s down.”
“Good, but the others will know where you are now.” Roger’s voice sounded very weak. “It’s now or never. Save Lana. Get Megiddo.”
Will exhaled. “Roger, you and your men have gone beyond what I asked of you. You don’t need to stay where you are. I’m sure your injury is worse than you told me. Crawl back to the lodge. There are probably medical supplies in there.”
“There’s one bullet in my gun, and I’m not going anywhere until I have the chance to use it.”
Will nodded and ran farther up the mountain, occasionally stumbling as his feet hit snow-hidden rocks and branches. Its summit grew closer until he knew that he was only a few hundred meters from the mountaintop. The wind became stronger and brought with it ice-cold air.
He narrowed his eyes and tried to look at everything before and around him. He heard Lana’s words.
One day you’ll be here for me.
He squinted through the rifle scope; he moved his gun left and right; he ran; he walked; he crawled; he did everything he could to remain a hunter rather than a corpse.
He ran again and stopped suddenly. He crouched, raising his weapon. He could see them. The man still had his back to Will and was dragging Lana with him. Will focused the crosshairs of his scope on the man’s back. At this range the shot would be easy.
He thought about his father. He thought about the savagery inflicted on him by the man he now had in his crosshairs. He thought how easy it would be to quickly incapacitate the man with one shot and then to kill him in a slower, more satisfying way.
He held his breath.
He thought about the thousands of lives that could be lost if the shot killed Megiddo and his secret. He thought about Lana and how she would suffer at Megiddo’s hand if Will’s shot did not kill him instantly.
He lowered his rifle.
Roger’s voice sounded quietly in his earpiece. “The three hostiles are now together and seven hundred meters from the summit.”
“Roger, I’m very close to my quarry, but I need time.” Will took one step forward. “Try to make a shot. Try to draw the three men away from me.”
Roger sighed. “They’re nearly three kilometers away from my position. But I’ll try.”
Will looked through his scope again, but Lana and her captor were gone from sight. He cursed. He moved farther up the mountain.
He knew that the sound of the high-velocity shot had come from a distance, but its noise still echoed around the valley and over the contours of adjacent mountains. Will instantly dropped low, spinning around. He listened for nearly ten seconds before he heard Roger’s voice.
The CIA man’s words sounded labored. “I got him in the head. He’s dead.”
Roger had just killed one of the three Iranian men following Will. The distance of the shot, the adjustments required to compensate for elevation and weather, and the fact that Roger was injured made the shot remarkable.
Roger spoke again. “Damn it. The other two went to ground for a moment, but now they’ve continued pursuing you. I’m sorry, Will. I thought they’d turn and come back to kill me. Either way, that was my last bullet.”
Will cursed. “Okay. Keep trying to track their movements. Stay in radio communication. That’s all that matters now.”
Another rifle shot rang out from the distance. Will frowned. “I thought you were out of bullets.”
“That wasn’t me, but one of the two Iranian hostiles following you is down.”
There was another rifle shot.
“I’ve shot the two men coming after you.” The voice belonged to Laith. “The snipers put me on my ass for a while. But I’m back in it now.” He coughed. “I’m off the island and positioned by the lakeside.”
Will nodded. “I’m glad you’re back in the land of the living. Get to Roger and help him.”
Will sprinted up the mountainside for nearly a hundred meters before seeing something that looked out of place. He dived to the ground, brought his rifle up high, and raised himself to a crouch.
Lana was before him.
She was on her knees, her head was slumped. Ropes had been lashed around her throat, upper body, and legs, fixing her to a tree. Her hands were tied across her chest to form the shape of a cross.
He looked all around her and through the large flakes of snow that still fell slowly. They were on the summit, and with the exception of the tree that held Lana, the mountaintop was bare of life. He looked at her, his heart pounding as thoughts raced through his mind. He knew she could be bait for a trap. She could be a means to delay him, allowing Megiddo time to escape down the other side of the mountain. Megiddo must have been aware that Will was following him up the mountain. Whatever was happening, he could not leave her like this.
Will walked carefully forward, scanning to the left and right of Lana with his gun. He reached her, squatted, and lifted her head. Her eyes were closed. She was unconscious.
He looked at the hands crossed over her chest. Drawing out his knife, he began cutting carefully through the cords that bound them. He pulled his knife upward, slicing through the last of her wrist cords. The movement forced her hands toward him. He looked down and for the tiniest moment frowned.
Lana’s unbound arms involuntarily released two hidden grenades. The devices fell toward the ground, and in that fraction of a second Will cursed his own stupidity. Megiddo had tied her up in such a way as to kill both her and Will the moment her cords were cut.
The immense noise and light momentarily destroyed everything. There was no thought, no pain, no sight, nothing.
He opened his eyes. Or maybe they were open already. He thought he saw white. He sensed that he was suspended in nothing but white. He did not know if he saw or sensed anything real. But white was all around him.
Seconds, minutes, or hours passed. He had no way of knowing anything about time.
Then the white gradually drifted away and left other things in its place. Will’s eyes thought they saw sky, flecks of snow and land. His face was cold. He started hearing things. He started seeing things. He started thinking.
He knew he was lying on snow. He knew that the ringing in his ears was from the explosion. He knew he could not move his legs and arms. He used all his strength to turn his head to look at Lana. Her own head was still slumped, but he could tell that she was breathing heavily. He felt overwhelming relief. They both should have been dead. And then he realized what had happened. The explosives had been stun grenades. Megiddo had wanted to keep him alive.
He turned away from Lana. The movement was excruciating, and he could still do nothing more than just lie on the ground.
Then Will saw him. Even though his vision kept blurring and fragmenting, he saw him.
The man seemed distant at first. He walked quite slowly. Snow fell around him, but it did not seem to touch him. He carried a gun. He was looking at Will. He was coming toward him.
The man was tall. His gun was a rifle, and it was held in one hand with its barrel resting on his shoulder. The man looked calm. He came right up to Will. He looked at him. He said, “You deserve a better death than one by explosives or being shot like a dog on the ground. And I have now decided that there are things you need to know before I give you that more honorable death. But now is not the time.”
Then he slammed the butt of his rifle onto Will’s skull.