“I’m ready, but what am I going to do with this?” He raised the C-4 in his palms.
“It’s okay to lay the C-4 patty down at your feet, just don’t step on.”
“I will step gingerly from here.”
“Tucker, I am almost through!” Christopher called.
Tucker returned to his side and used a chisel to punch a hole through the wall. He pressed his ear to the opening and listened for half a minute. Satisfied no one was in this canyon, he widened the hole and peered out. Kharzin had all his men in the other gorge, guarding what he believed was the only entrance.
“Okay, everyone keep your voices low from here. We don’t want to turn any heads in this direction.” He turned to Christopher. “Go ahead and widen the hole as quietly as you can, just large enough for both of you to climb through. Then I want you to take the packs and Kane and hightail it away from here; stay hidden and keep moving east. Kane can help you. I’ll catch up and find you once I’m finished here.”
“What are you going to do?” Bukolov said.
“I’m going to keep Kharzin looking at me, while you all make your escape. After that, I’m going to drop your C-4 patty down with the one I already planted among those artillery shells and run like hell. When those babies blow, this whole cavern will collapse in on itself.”
Christopher whispered, “I’m finished.”
“Then it’s time for you all to vacate the premises.”
Tucker helped gather their packs and drop them through the opening and out into the chilly night. He also gathered up Bukolov’s abandoned bomb and repositioned it close to the hole in the floor.
With everything ready, he used the video feed on his phone to check on Kane, staring at the screen. All looked quiet out in the Cathedral, so he touched his mike and summoned his partner back to his side.
He gave Kane a warm greeting, then passed his phone to Christopher. “No matter what happens to me, keep hiking to last night’s campsite and wait for your brothers. Once you’re safely back over the border, hit number one on the speed-dial and ask for Harper. Tell her what’s happened and she’ll take it from there.”
“I will.”
“And take care of Kane.”
“Tucker—”
“Promise me.”
“I promise. He’ll be like another brother to me.”
“I couldn’t ask for anything better.”
Christopher extended his hand, shook Tucker’s, then clambered through the hole and dropped low outside.
“Now you, Doctor,” Tucker said.
Without warning, Bukolov wrapped Tucker in a bear hug. “I will see you out there, yes?”
“As soon as possible.”
As Bukolov climbed out, Tucker knelt beside Kane. “You’ve done enough here, buddy,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m going to do this last part by myself.”
Kane cocked his head and stared into Tucker’s eyes. A soft whine flowed to him; he plainly sensed what was to come.
Tucker stood again and whispered, “Christopher, are you there?”
“I’m here.”
He lifted Kane in his arms, gave him a final long squeeze, then guided him through the hole and into Christopher’s waiting hands.
“I have him, Tucker. Good luck.”
“You, too.”
He waited for three minutes, making sure no shouts of alarm were raised as the others fled. He took an extra moment to cover the hole with a scrap of khaki tent canvas, securing the upper corners with duct tape. He didn’t want the moonlight shining through the new window, giving away the ruse when he entertained guests in a few minutes.
He then crossed back to the Cathedral and tugged back on the radio headset. He kept his headlamp off, standing in the pitch darkness.
“General Kharzin.”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“You can come in.”
“We are on our way.”
1:58 A.M.
Keeping watch, Tucker raised his rifle and peered through the night-vision scope. After two minutes, the greenish haze of lights bloomed on the far side. Moments later, three men appeared. From their body posture, he could register the horror of finding the charred remains of their comrades. The trio stepped over the sandbags, only to discover Anya’s body. They knelt there even longer, clearly calling for someone to collect her. Then they started across the Cathedral floor.
When they reached the halfway point, Tucker shouted, “Stop there.”
The men halted.
Into his headset, Tucker said, “General, you’re—”
The pain in the other’s voice cut him off. “You told me Anya was still alive!”
“Let’s call it even.”
“It’ll never be even. Never. She was my daughter.”
Shocked by this revelation, Tucker felt a sickening twist in his gut. He remembered Anya talking about her father. He could still hear the buried pain in her words: My father was in the Russian Army. He was a . . . a hard man.
Tucker now wondered how much of that pain was feigned. He could only imagine what it was like to grow up with a father like Kharzin, to be used and groomed to be little more than a finely honed tool. He remembered that it had been Anya who had first suggested to Bukolov that she pretend to be the doctor’s daughter. Perhaps that ruse had its roots here. To keep things easy, Anya simply shifted the lie about one father to another.
“I’m going to kill you,” Kharzin said.
“I’m sorry for your loss, General. I truly am. And you certainly can come after me, but for now, do you want revenge or your LUCA samples?”
Kharzin didn’t respond for a full ten seconds. His voice was tight with grief and fury. “We will settle this personal matter later then. But I promise you it will be settled. There will be an accounting.”
“I look forward to it,” Tucker said. “For now, come forward. Let’s be done with this.”
Kharzin and his two companions started walking, proceeding slowly, suspiciously. When they were thirty feet away, Tucker saw movement across the Cathedral.
“Halt,” he yelled. “What is going on back there?”
One of the men glanced over to the commotion. “They are only collecting the bodies of my men . . . and my daughter. I will not leave them behind.”
“Then keep coming,” he said and added a lie. “But be warned, I have other guns fixed on them if they try anything.”
He took off his headset and began backing down the tunnel.