CHAPTER 17

Special-forces members Karel and Jan were patrolling the camp with extra caution. After the attack on the village and the disappearance of their three army brothers, extreme vigilance was in order.

The Czech government was deploying massive measures to cope with the most extreme terrorist threat that the nation had yet encountered. At least all those years of intensive daily training would be put to good use. Up till now, the special forces hadn’t seen much action.

In the command tent, the tight-lipped higher-ups and military researchers had been assessing the situation and were now getting ready to dismantle the camp. For hours, the two men had been prepared to take on any enemy, but no opponents had presented themselves. They were tired. To keep alert and beat the boredom, Karel, a precision-firing specialist, was enlightening close-combat expert Jan on the many benefits of yoga, particularly its ability to help the practitioner hone his breathing—an essential skill for a sniper.

A metal clink caught their attention. It was followed by a dozen more. The noise was coming from the satellite dishes. They rushed over to see what was going on. Karel examined one of the dishes. There were impact marks, and the wires leading out from it were letting off sparks. But before he had time to get up and report his findings to Jan, a lieutenant emerged from the tent. He was shouting something about interrupted communications. As the lieutenant approached the two soldiers, the floodlights started shutting off one by one to the sound of shattered glass. They were all out in mere seconds. The men didn’t have time to respond. An enormous explosion came next. It blew a fire truck off the ground in a whirl of apocalyptic flames.

Karel felt his heart racing and pearls of sweat dripping from his temples. He gripped his gun and tried to channel the breathing exercises taught by his yoga master. As he did this, another fiery explosion ripped through the camp, and he saw a fellow soldier go flying in the air. All around, he heard panicked shouting. Officers were emerging from the tent, only to be hit by bullets. They took several rounds each, and looking like contortionists, they spun in circles before falling to the ground. The invisible assailants were aiming with diabolic precision. The bodies were piling up. Karel and Jan heard frenzied orders, as well as cries for help. Ducking for cover between the generator and the tent, they didn’t know exactly how to respond. Where were the assailants?

When he heard two more explosions over his shoulder, Karel realized they were being attacked from behind.

On the hill overlooking the camp, Branislav was appalled and powerless. Tears streamed down his face. Through his earpiece he could hear Eytan’s directions. He was telling Elena where to shoot or toss a grenade and letting her know when he would lob the next explosive. The giant had mercilessly slain the three commandos who had threatened his life the previous day. Branislav had no reason to believe the killer would soften up overnight. But this massacre was too much to take. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Eytan took aim at the satellite dishes, which were defenseless against his precise eye. He pulled out his empty magazine, replaced it on the spot, and focused on the lights to his left. Just before pulling the trigger, he shouted, “She’s all yours, Elena.”

Elena had been waiting patiently for Eytan’s orders to open fire, and as soon as she was given the go-ahead, she eagerly blasted each and every light.

“Okay,” Eytan said. “Let’s keep up the pace. Take care of the generator. Then blow up the trucks. I’ll deal with my zone, and afterward, we’ll blast this place to smithereens. Go!”

A slit in the tent opened, and an officer appeared. Before the entry flap closed again, Eytan spotted the brown-haired woman who had been smoking a cigarette a few minutes earlier. She was now hunched over a laptop.

At that moment, the electricity went off, thanks to Elena’s aim.

“Revised plan: blow up the quarantine truck to create a diversion.”

“There’s no risk?”

“It’s armored. Aim for the tractor. That’ll do. Now.”

No sooner had the words come out of his mouth than the deed was done.

The cab of the truck rose into the air, as if propelled by an invisible force. Seconds later it crashed to the ground, landing on its side with a thunderous boom. The trailer, which the cab had dragged into the air with the force of the explosion, broke free of its hitch and landed nearby.

Eytan surveyed the back door for a few moments, but no one came out. He continued.

Karel was watching his world collapse before his eyes. An unstoppable tidal wave of chaos was sweeping through the camp. He tried to calm himself so that he could do something—anything—but it was impossible. Between the endless rounds of gunshots, the wailing victims, and the explosions punctuating the nightmarish darkness, he couldn’t even think. He knew that Jan wasn’t doing any better. His breathing was noisy, and his eyes were filled with terror.

And yet Jan managed to dart off—so quickly, Karel couldn’t stop him. He was seeking a better refuge, Karel was sure. Another blast went off. Karel covered his head. He was okay. The tent, on the other hand, wasn’t as lucky. It was now full of holes. He would have said it looked like a hunk of Swiss cheese, but that would have been putting the whole grisly scene in a bizarre context.

Silence. Karel risked assessing the situation. In only a minute—two at the most—his peaceful post had turned into an Armageddon. What was next?

“What an asshole!” Elena spat as she spotted a runaway and squashed his escape with a bullet to the shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Branislav asked frantically.

“You, shut up!” Elena responded.

“Stop, both of you. Elena, keep your foul mood to yourself. Branislav, stay quiet, and let us do our job. Elena?”

No response.

“Elena!” Eytan pressed.

“I’m here!”

“We’re going in. We’ll meet at the command post.”

She strapped her M16 over her shoulder, drew her MP5, and descended to the camp to finish off the scraps, which were a bit too spoiled for her liking.

Fifteen feet from each other, the two men were exchanging conflicting signals. They were arguing over how to proceed. Karel wanted to lie low until they had a better idea of what was going on. Jan thought it was best to take shelter in one of the trucks that hadn’t been blown up.

Karel saw a shadow in the distance—the offensive was entering a new phase. He scanned the scene in search of other assailants, but aside from the massive silhouette that appeared to be making huge strides in their direction, he saw no one on the horizon. As the oppressive shape walked by a wounded victim struggling to get up, he stopped and delivered a bullet to his throat.

Karel hunkered down a few more inches in hopes of remaining unseen. The shadowy figure’s cold and murderous determination enraged the guard. “Shit, if this guy wants a war, he’s got one!” he fumed.

Now was the time to show off his sniper skills. He craned his neck and spotted the man as he continued to eliminate the wounded, one by one. Karel took a deep breath and adjusted his aim. That bastard was as good as dead.

“You have no idea how much I’d like to see you do that!”

He jumped at the sound of the voice coming from behind him. A woman’s voice? Karel’s basic English was limited to simple commands, so he couldn’t grasp the exact meaning of the sentence. He thought it wise to drop his weapon and put his hands in the air. It was a universal symbol.

“Lie down!” barked the stranger.

That he understood, and without attempting any heroism, he obeyed before losing consciousness.

Assuming any movement would lead to his demise, Jan remained motionless on the ground, playing dead. The dampness of the earth penetrated his uniform and chilled his flesh. He caught a glimpse of Karel just as the butt end of a rifle knocked him out cold. Considering the graveyard all around him, it could have been a lot worse.

Elena and Eytan met in front of the command post, having systematically neutralized the remaining occupants of the now-devastated camp.

“Cover your eyes!” the Kidon operative ordered.

Elena obeyed without hesitation. Eytan threw a can, which he had been saving since the start of the operation, into the tent. He turned around and covered his own eyes. There was a flash of blinding light inside the tent.

“Would it have killed you to let me know that we’d be shooting rubber bullets?” she screamed when she opened her eyes.

Several hundred feet away, Branislav was leaning against a tree trunk. He slid all the way to the ground.

“Rubber bullets,” he said and sighed as he held his head with both hands.

Ignoring the woman’s accusations, Eytan opened a slit in what remained of the command post and peered inside.

“I don’t see how that would’ve changed anything,” he responded distractedly, noting with satisfaction that all three occupants—two men in uniform and the woman wearing the white coat—were unconscious.

He was about to enter when Elena crept up behind him with her arm cocked. Eytan turned around at lightning speed and diverted the attack with his palm. Before she could react, he grabbed her by the neck. Her jaw dropped in awe of his grip. He leaned in close and locked his cold blue eyes with hers. It wouldn’t take much for him to crush her windpipe.

“Did you really think we were going to kill all these people? You’ve been a huge help so far. Don’t ruin it,” he said with disarming calmness.

He released his grip and stepped back. Elena was tempted to launch a full-on attack that would settle things once and for all. But she was still shaking and decided to opt for a stalemate.

“You should have warned me. That’s all,” she muttered, rubbing her throat.

“Sure, but I didn’t. No deaths, but plenty of injuries. You’ll have to wait to get your dose of blood. End of discussion.”

“Could you at least explain why you brought these weapons?”

“I came to Prague hoping to beat up your little buddies from the Consortium. And I was planning to take prisoners. So I armed up. Is that explanation good enough for you?”

“No.”

“Whatever. I’ll get over it. Czechy?”

“Uh, is that my new nickname?” asked Branislav, surprised to be addressed at all.

“Yes, I’m not going to say your name out loud while we’re here,” Eytan responded.

“Ah, all right.”

“I’m bringing you the person we’ll be questioning. So pull your mask down. Elena, take the laptop and the files next to it. Over and out.”

Elena was still frustrated. But she did as she was told. She quickly unplugged the PC cables and grabbed the computer. Eytan lifted the woman’s eyelids to make sure she wasn’t faking her unconscious state and picked her up.

Crouched under a truck, a stunned Jan watched them leave the camp. Without any means of communication or backup, he knew this was no time to take action. Following them was the smarter move.

Reaching the top of the hill, Eytan had barely lowered his prisoner to the ground, when Branislav rushed to meet him. He shook his hand vigorously.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said. “I honestly believed you were going crazy.”

“That’s not how his holiness operates,” Elena said as she walked up to the two men.

She squatted beside the brunette and tied her wrists together with the nylon rope from her partner’s bag. Then she ripped off a strip of the woman’s coat and used it to blindfold her.

“I’m not some naïve goody-two-shoes. If I had considered these people real enemies, not a single one of them would have gotten out alive,” Eytan responded. “In this case, killing them would have accomplished nothing for our mission.”

Branislav didn’t know if the statement merited any praise, but it would do.

Elena guarded the unconscious brunette while Branislav scanned the disk files with the Kidon agent at his side. Most of the documents were obscure medical reports riddled with terms that were impossible to comprehend. Branislav expressed his frustration in a string of swear words and grunts.

Eytan gave up and walked over to his bag. He picked up the pile of documents and was flipping through them when he found something that put him in a good mood. It was a series of enlarged photographs. He flashed a predatory smile.

It was time to question the prisoner and move out as quickly as possible.

“See if you can wake her up,” Eytan ordered Elena.

For once, his command was met with enthusiasm. A series of slaps to the face ensued. The scientist strained to lift her head after several attempts. Branislav approached Eytan and whispered in his ear.

“Why am I wearing this mask if she can’t see anything?”

“Safety first.”

Elena unceremoniously pulled the woman into a sitting position.

The interrogation proceeded with surprising simplicity. Eytan asked the questions. Branislav translated them as well as he could, and the terrified prisoner replied compliantly. Five minutes later, it was all finished. Eytan, however, was unsatisfied with the sparse information they had been able to glean.

“Tell her not to worry,” Eytan said. “She has nothing to be afraid of. I’m going to drop her off at the camp. Pack everything up. I’ll be quick.” The woman yelped as Eytan threw her over his shoulder like an old rug and disappeared into the forest.

From his hiding spot behind a bush, Jan didn’t have a good visual of the inquisitors, but he had heard everything. He had learned, to his astonishment, that the region had been subjected to a viral attack.

He knew he had to capture one of these people. But he didn’t want to act recklessly, and he had only his handgun. His rifle had been lost in the chaos. “Damn, I wish Karel were here,” he said and sighed. “He would have known what to do.” Jan still failed to grasp how two people could have led such a violent frontal so effectively. Fortunately, the giant had cleared out. The masked man appeared to be unarmed. So the woman with the red hair appeared to be the only serious challenge.

With Eytan and the prisoner gone, Branislav could finally remove his mask. He soothed his itchy face and swore that he’d throw the knit concealment into his parents’ fireplace the next chance he got.

“Who told you to take that off?”

As per usual, Branislav couldn’t tell if Elena was serious or pulling his leg.

“Uh, what’s the big deal? We’re finished here, right? I don’t see why I need to keep it on.”

Branislav stopped and raised his hands in the air.

“You don’t have to be a drama queen about it. I was joking,” Elena replied.

With a subtle move of his chin, Branislav instructed Elena to look over her shoulder. She obliged.

Behind her, a man with a gun was moving toward the two of them. He signaled her to raise her hands. She complied.

“On the ground, both of you,” the soldier ordered in patchy English.

Elena did as she was told. But Branislav stalled. He was hoping to spot Eytan coming back from his drop-off. Nervous, vexed, and impatient, the soldier leaped at Branislav and hit him in the face with the butt of his gun. Branislav fell flat on his ass. He held his injured and bloody nose with both hands.

Like a world-class gymnast, Elena pushed down on the ground with all her strength, jumped to her feet, and swung her legs at the man’s chest. He dropped his weapon and tumbled backward but regrouped by rolling into a perfect summersault. Stabilized once again, he adopted a Wing Chun stance—hands open in front of his torso—and advanced toward the woman.

Elena froze as straight as an arrow, arms by her side. With a quick chest rotation, she dodged the first impulsive jab and countered with a low kick to the man’s shin.

“I have a feeling that you and I are going to hit it off,” he said with a sinister smile.

Elena found the first few moves entertaining. She was waiting patiently for the perfect moment to finish the poor guy off. Bring it on, she thought silently.

But this man knew what he was doing. As she registered her opponent’s prowess, Elena’s arrogance vanished and was replaced with serious concentration. His masterful hand-to-hand combat skills forced her to rely on a full range of blocks and sways. She wasn’t gaining an inch of ground. And she was beginning to pant.

A slight duck by her opponent gave Elena the opportunity she needed to take the advantage and bring the battle to a close. She seized it. She faked a right hook, forcing the man to block an absent attack. It was time to seal the deal. She circled in on him and wiped him out with a punch to the face. Before he had time to respond, she struck his forearm from below with her right hand and completed a reverse maneuver with the left hand. At the unmistakable sound of fractured bones, she knew she had successfully landed her move.

She heard a howl of pain followed by a loud thud as his body hit the ground. But as she stood over her victim, Elena wasn’t feeling victorious. She couldn’t understand why, but she couldn’t see him. In fact, she couldn’t see anything.

Eytan placed his gift at what was left of the camp. In a few moments, the soldiers would be pulling themselves together, and despite the inevitable broken bones from the nonlethal bullets, they’d be quick to sound the alarm. The authorities would surely be baffled by the use of rubber ammunition; this confusion would slow down their decision making and muddle their judgment. He would have preferred using other measures, but only a quick, violent, and deliberately exaggerated act could be effective in such an emergency. He was prepared to do anything to get Eli back. But had he crossed a line? He hated to admit it, but Cypher and he had a common goal. They both wanted to eliminate this threat, which was becoming more serious by the second. It was a sad truth: as much as government leaders went on and on about the quest for peace, the research into chemical, biological, and nuclear weaponry seemed to be gaining momentum. Death was already an inescapable truth. Did the world’s power brokers have to work so hard to hurry it along? And how many more innocent people would pay the price for their megalomania?

A wave of heat snapped Eytan out of his thoughts. Rivers of sweat were pouring down his smooth-shaven skull. His veins were throbbing. He lowered himself to the ground and rested his back against a tree. He pulled out a small case that looked like it held cigars. Inside was a syringe filled with greenish liquid. His heart was beating at a dangerously fast clip. Trembling, he planted the needle in his right forearm and injected himself. The serum, which he always had with him, had been the source of his survival for decades. His heart slowed, and at the same moment, the world around him froze.