Kozachenko had cranked the engine and ground the truck into gear when the radio crackled.
“Brigadier?”
He recognized the voice of one of the new men, the one who had been monitoring local dispatch. His heart banged against his rib cage. “Is there a problem?”
“A call just went out about the power outage. There are two police cars headed our way.”
Kozachenko slammed his hand against the wheel. “Derr’mo.”
Now he could hear the sirens in the distance. He needed to keep them away somehow. Turning off the truck, he jumped to the ground and gathered the men. “Which of you speak Polish?”
The two trainmen raised their hands.
“You two come with me. The rest of you stay here with Major Barkov and the truck.”
Barkov saluted. “What are you going to do, Vasyl?”
“I’m going to try to save the mission.” Kozachenko climbed into the back of the trainmen’s vehicle. “You must beat the police to the turn off. Move.” As the driver accelerated toward the main road, Kozachenko radioed Barkov. “Can you reattach the cameras?”
“It’s possible, but there are no guarantees. The wires for video can be tricky.”
“Make it happen,” Kozachenko said and then turned to the men. “What are your names?”
“I’m Celek,” the driver said. “He’s Janko.”
Kozachenko held up the radio mic. “I am going to keep the mic open so the men can hear what’s happening. We need to keep the police from going to the substation, or we’ll have no choice but to kill them. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Celek said.
Janko turned in his seat. “I have a question.”
“What is it?”
“What is wrong with just killing them now?”
“Think about it. What do you think happens if the officers fail to report in?”
“They send more officers,” Celek said.
“That and they put out an alert. It would be like standing up and waving to the Polish Special Forces. You need to do your best to make them go away.”
“Who are we supposed to be?” Janko asked.
“Tell them you are military out on maneuvers. You heard the call and stopped to check. Tell them whatever you need to. Just make them go away.”
Celek shifted into third gear and floored the SUV. Kozachenko watched from the back seat as they neared the highway intersection. If the policemen were able to turn in on the service road, the game was over.
The SUV and first police car reached the intersection at the same time. Kozachenko dropped to the seat while Celek slammed on the brakes, maneuvering the vehicle sideways across the road and forcing the police car into the ditch. Jumping out, he took the offense.
“You stupid imbecile,” he shouted. “What the hell are you doing? Trying to kill us?”
Kozachenko peered over the back seat and watched the other police car skid to a stop. An officer jumped out, his weapon drawn. “Put your hands up. Who are you?”
“We were sent out here to check on the substation,” Celek said. He ignored the officer, and Kozachenko hoped he didn’t get shot in the back. Celek quickly moved toward the car in the ditch and yanked open the driver’s-side door. “Are you okay?”
The officer climbed out and supported himself by leaning against the car. “I’m fine.”
“I told you to put your hands up!” the officer yelled from the road. He stood in a shooting stance, weapon leveled at Celek’s chest. “Why would they send soldiers?”
Celek played along, halfheartedly raising his hands in surrender. “We were on maneuvers when the call came over the radio. We thought we could help. Why don’t you put your gun away so we can discuss this?”
The policemen looked at each other, and then the one on the road gestured toward the substation with the barrel of his gun. “What did you find there?”
Celek shrugged and shook his head. “Nothing. Everything was in order.”
The officer maintained a one-handed grip on his gun and shined his flashlight down the road. The beam dissipated after a few feet, so he turned the light on Janko in the front seat of the SUV. Kozachenko ducked. The light remained on Janko for a few moments, and then the officer shined the light back on Celek’s face. “I don’t believe you. The electricity was out from here to Elblag, and dispatch informed us the cameras were down.”
Celek shielded his eyes from the light, squinting at the officer. “The electricity is on now, isn’t it? And the cameras all seemed to be working. Call the power company in Ostroda and ask for yourself.”
The officer looked at his colleague, who nodded. “Go ahead and do it, Vann.”
“Don’t move until I get back.” Officer Vann holstered his weapon and headed back to his car. A tactical error, thought Kozachenko. If he and his men wanted to, they could easily kill these men now.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Celek asked the policeman beside him. He sat against the car fender and twisted to look at the man’s name badge. “You look a little green, Officer Soskin.”
“I bumped my head. It’s nothing.”
Celek was doing a great job of feigning concern. “That’s not good. You may need medical attention.”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
Officer Vann climbed back out of his patrol car and walked toward them. “The power company says everything is working again. They claim it must have been a malfunction or something.”
Officer Soskin jerked his head toward Celek. “Did you check with dispatch? Did they say anything about soldiers reporting to the scene?”
Kozachenko tensed, ready to spring into action if necessary. Janko reached for the door handle.
“The man I spoke to said he didn’t talk to anyone. But he admitted there were three dispatchers fielding calls. It’s possible one of the others handled the communication.”
“What did I tell you?” Celek said, pushing himself off the fender. Janko settled back in his seat. Kozachenko remained on guard. “Now I think you need to get your man to a doctor.”
“Are you hurt, Soskin?” Vann looked concerned.
“I’m fine.” Soskin glared at Celek, who had climbed up on the road and now stood beside Vann.
Celek leaned in. “He admitted smacking his head in the crash. Haven’t you ever heard of Talk-and-Die Syndrome?”
Vann frowned. “No.”
“It’s terrible. Sometimes when someone hits their head, they claim they are fine, and then within hours, they’re dead.” Celek tapped his skull. “Traumatic bleeding inside the brain. Even a minor head injury can be serious.”
“I’m telling you, I am perfectly okay.” As if to prove it, Soskin pushed himself to his feet and started forward, stumbling over a rock in the ditch.
Celek pounced on the opportunity. “See?” he said to Vann, flicking a finger toward Soskin. “The sooner he sees a doctor the better. I’ve seen too many head injuries in my day. I say take him, now.”
“I’m telling you, it isn’t necessary,” Soskin insisted.
“I don’t know, Soskin. You may have hit your head harder than you think,” Vann said.
“Where is the nearest hospital?” Celek said. “My buddy and I can follow you there with his car.”
“No, just leave it,” Vann said. “I’ll have someone come out in the morning.”
“You’re sure?” Celek asked.
“Positive,” Vann said, depositing Soskin into the passenger seat of his car. After shutting the door, he reached out his hand. “Thanks for your help, Private.”
It was clear the officer expected a name.
“Sergeant,” Celek corrected, removing his glove and reaching to shake. “Good luck, Officer Vann. I hope your colleague is all right.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. We’re here to serve.”