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Private Moscow (Private 15)

Page 84

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He and his squad drew their sidearms and aimed them at the cops.

“This is sovereign territory of the United States,” West said.

“Not beyond those gates,” one of Veles’ men countered. “Out here it is Moscow. Our city. Our rules.” He turned to the idling vehicles. “Get out! Now! You are all under arrest.”

“Drop your weapons!” West yelled, and he and his squad spread out in fire formation.

Half the Moscow police officers turned their weapons on the Marines, while the others held on us.

“If we can just get inside the embassy,” I said urgently. “Can we break through?”

Feo shook his head. There were four police cars chicaned across the road, and barricades blocked the sidewalks.

The Marines and cops yelled at each other and the tension rose. It would only take one wrong move to trigger a bloodbath.

The rear passenger door of the lead vehicle in our convoy opened, and Anna Bolshova stepped out. She wasn’t wearing her coat, deliberately I suspected, because her Moscow police uniform caught the attention of the officers around her.

“My name is Detective Anna Bolshova of the Criminal Investigations Department, on assignment to the Ministry of the Interior,” she said, and the cops and Marines fell silent. “These men”—she pointed to the two guys Dinara had recognized— “were accomplices in the murder of Leonid Boykov, a former officer of the Moscow police. I witnessed his killing and I saw their involvement with my own eyes. You have been lied to, and you are standing with cop killers. Arrest them now!”

She yelled in Russian, barking sharp commands, and half the officers present turned on Veles’ men. The other half rushed to their sides and soon the standoff had become an internal struggle, with one faction of Moscow cops yelling at the other.

“Come on! This could be our only chance,” I said.

Yenen nodded, and he and Dinara slipped out of the rear pass

enger door. I followed them into the street.

West noticed instantly.

“Protective formation,” he commanded, and his squad formed up around us, firearms facing outwards, bristling in every direction like spines on a sea urchin.

As we ran for the embassy, I saw Veles’ men catch sight of us through the snow. They yelled something in Russian, and Anna Bolshova countered their command with one of her own.

They ignored her and pushed past the officers that had rallied to her cause. We were a hundred yards from the embassy gates, and broke into a sprint.

“Back off!” West yelled.

“Those people are under arrest,” one of Veles’ men shouted. He drew his pistol as he ran toward us. “Stop, or I will shoot.”

“It’ll be the last thing you do,” West responded harshly. “Get those gates open,” he ordered, and his point man raced ahead.

Dinara, Yenen and I were bundled along at the heart of the heavily armed squad, but when we were fifty yards from the gate, I saw another roadblock at the other end of the street. Ten police officers and two men in long dark coats turned as we neared the gates, no doubt alerted by radio. They sprinted toward us.

“This is your last warning,” one of our pursuers shouted.

He dropped to one knee and raised his weapon. His companion did likewise, and I waited for the inevitable barrage, but none came. Instead, an ogre-like shape burst out of the snow and tackled both men. It was Feo, and the huge bear rained furious blows down on the men. He was quickly joined by the retired cops who’d helped us abduct Maxim Yenen. They were eager to avenge their friend and benefactor Leonid Boykov.

We reached the gates before the officers from the other end of the street, and were hustled inside the compound by more Marines.

The gate was slammed behind us, and as Yenen, Dinara and I were led toward the embassy building, I saw Master Gunnery Sergeant Marlon West stand at the threshold like an impassable sentinel.

“This is the sovereign territory of the United States of America,” he told the frustrated men on the other side of the gate. “Any aggression against it will be met with lethal force.”

CHAPTER 87

CARRIE UNDERWOOD, THE ambassador’s security adviser, was waiting in the embassy lobby. She introduced herself to Dinara.

“Heck of a way to arrive,” Carrie exclaimed, gesturing at the Marine guard that had accompanied us into the building. Then: “Mr. Yenen,” she said.



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