Chapter Seventeen
Thursday arrived, the day Operation Bear Trap would be sprung. The members of the team gathered in their small hotel room headquarters for one final briefing. Preparations had been made, logistics had been studied, and every facet of the op had been checked and double-checked. Still, they needed to review everything one more time.
Excited and nervous, Quinn sat cross-legged on one of the beds. She pulled off a bit of pastry she’d bought at the coffee shop down the street with her fingers and popped it in her mouth. It was all she could do not to physically swoon at the flaky, buttery bun laden with chunks of semi-sweet chocolate. Nerves had her stomach twisted in a knot and yet she couldn’t stop eating the little bit of carbohydrate heaven.
She pinched off another piece and held it up in front of James’s faux beard-covered face.
Sitting next to her with legs stretched out, he opened his mouth. She deposited the morsel and after only one chew, his eyes widened. “Wow.”
“I know, right? I’m gonna buy a bunch of these for Mila, Pyotr, and the rest to have for breakfast tomorrow.”
“Pick up couple of extra for me while you’re at it,” James said.
As always, Dave stood at the front of the room. “If the newlyweds will quit feeding each other and quiet down,” he said drily, “we can get started.”
Had she not gotten to know Dave well over the last couple of days, her cheeks would have burned hot with embarrassment. Now, though, she made a show of peeling off a big chunk of the pastry and biting off half before defiantly stuffing the rest into her husband’s mouth.
The room filled with chuckles from the other members of the team. Dave grinned and shook his head, then dove right in. “Reem is already coordinating with the police to arrest Yefimov and his crew on drug charges. Marina is at the house in Olgino ready to help get the kids settled once all the shouting is over.”
Marina Khodyreva worked for an organization established specifically to assist liberated trafficking victims in making the transition from slavery to freedom.
“At eleven-thirty, James, Quinn, LT, and I will each drive one of the passenger vans Yonatan rented to where the kids are held. Let’s not all park right next to each other. Too many vans in one place will draw attention. We don’t want that.”
Heads nodded in agreement.
“Job One is to get the kids out, into the vans, and to the house in Olgino. To do that, we neutralize Yefimov and his crew. Use the tranq guns if you can. We don’t want any of the kids caught in potential cross fire.”
“Everyone have your vests on?” Yonatan asked.
Each responded in the affirmative. Quinn tugged at the bottom of the bulletproof vest she wore under her blouse and business suit jacket. It was a little lighter weight than the ones she’d trained in. Yonatan had access to some excellent equipment.
“Once the kids are out of harm’s way, Reem will call in an ‘anonymous’ tip to the local police already on board. They’ll come in and arrest everyone and seize the drugs.” There was another chorus of nods. “Yonatan’s running comms. Everyone plugged in? Eyes and ears?”
Quinn slipped on the tortoiseshell framed glasses with the hidden camera. Then she moved a strand of her long auburn wig over the communication device in her ear. “I’m set.” With Anatoly lurking about, her disguise was a necessity.
James looked from Quinn to Dave. “Me, too.”
“Affirmative,” LT said.
“Good.” Dave paused as if to let the importance of the moment sink in. “Saddle up.”
Brimming with equal parts excitement, anticipation, and apprehension, Quinn jumped off the bed and helped stow the equipment scattered around the room. Once everything was secured, they left and took the lift to the ground floor.
Out the front door and onto the sidewalk, Yonatan crossed the street to the surveillance van, and LT turned left toward his vehicle. Dave turned right.
James took Quinn’s hand. “Can I walk you to your car?” They started toward the vehicle parked across the street at their two o’clock.
Her smile was soft. “Sure.”
A half-minute later, they stood next to the van’s driver-side door. James took her left hand and slipped her wedding and engagement rings off her finger. “Don’t want to tempt Yefimov and his crew. They’ll steal these right off your hand if they get the chance.”
She took off the necklace that still held his wedding band and threaded them onto the chain. Then he took it from her and held it by both ends. “Turn around.”
She spun and swept her hair forward over her shoulder.
He settled their rings and eagle pendant on her chest, secured the clasp, and kissed the exposed nape of her neck. A shiver raced down her spine.
“See you there.” He turned on his heel and hurried toward the van parked a short distance away.
She tugged at the front of her blouse and hid the rings under the material. The way they rested over her heart gave her an inordinate amount of joy.
Pushing all thoughts other than the mission out of her mind, she unlocked the door and climbed up into the driver’s seat. “Time to go to work,” she said aloud to the empty van. The engine roared to life, reminding her of her loud, rumbly 4Runner. She threw the vehicle in gear and pulled out into traffic.
She’d been warned repeatedly about dangerous drivers in Russia. Having successfully navigated through the dusty, congested streets of Amritsar, India, she figured she could handle anything. But unlike the crowded but somewhat controlled pandemonium of Amritsar, Russia had a reputation for criminally aggressive drivers, unsafe roads, and accident scams.
Just the day before, when Quinn and James were walking back to their hotel after touring the State Hermitage Museum, they’d witnessed one such scam. A man had stood on a sidewalk until a bus came into view. When it approached, he’d thrown himself at it. He’d bounced off the side in glancing blow, but it had still left him in a heap on the side of the road. Quinn and James had run over to assist him, but when the “victim” realized the bus had never even slowed down—let alone stopped—he’d climbed to his feet and brushed himself off. James and Quinn had left him standing on the sidewalk, uninjured and peering into the distance in search of the next vehicle at which to throw himself.
In the next hour, Quinn’s sole goal was to get the kids to Olgino without a pedestrian bouncing off the side of her van or having an accident where the other driver might, in a fit of pique, smash a tire iron through a window. They had recently witnessed that, too.
She managed to travel the few blocks without incident and parked the van on a side street not far from the building. From the chatter in her earpiece, she knew James and LT were waiting for her and Dave in the lobby. They would go up to the flat together.
Quinn entered the building and silently dipped her chin, acknowledging James and LT. Dave joined them a minute later.
Like train cars on a track, the four ascended the staircase in tandem. When they reached the appropriate level, they started down the corridor.
It was a different experience for Quinn, being in the hallway in person versus observing it through video cameras. She felt the full impact of its crushing oppressiveness now. The stale air was heavy with the stench of cigarettes and cooked cabbage. A television, its volume turned up as high as possible, blared inside an apartment they passed.
They stopped outside the flat’s door. Dave looked into their faces in turn. “Ready?”
Heart thumping, Quinn’s senses heightened. Colors intensified and lines turned razor sharp. She heard nothing but the muffled voices coming from the other side of the door. Her mind clear and focused, she squared her shoulders and said, “Ready.”