Zero Hour (NUMA Files 11)
Kirov gulped hard, his Adam’s apple moving up and down against the crushing force of Kurt’s forearm.
“Lower your guns,” Kirov said, “but do not discard them.”
Half a win, Kurt thought. It was better than nothing.
He was pondering what to do next when the sound of the bulkhead door being unlatched caught his ear.
Kurt turned as the door swung wide and an oak tree of a man stepped through the hatch. Despite his size, he moved fluidly. He wore dark khaki pants and a black sweater. His cheekbones were high on his face and angular, almost like the mirrors on a sports car.
The Russian commandos immediately stood a little taller in his presence. Kurt guessed this was Kirov’s superior. He seemed it in every way. He was armed with two black pistols, though for now they sat in shoulder holsters, one on each side of his chest.
“What have we here?” he asked.
“A small disagreement,” Kurt said. “Your slug here wanted to toss me into the ocean. I didn’t feel like being part of any catch-and-release program.”
“So it would appear,” the man said.
“Who are you?” Kurt asked. “You weren’t on the train.”
“My name is Gregorovich,” the man said. “And you’re right, I avoided that pitiful episode.”
Gregorovich glanced around. “You seem to have made the best of your situation,” he said to Kurt. “However, you’re outnumbered and outgunned. The woman is the only one of you with any value. And Kirov is not much of a bargaining chip to me.”
He turned to one of the commandos. “Shoot them both.”
As the commando raised his rifle and took aim, Kurt prepared to fling Kirov forward as a human shield and fire the flare into Gregorovich’s face.
“Wait!” a voice cried.
Of all people, it was Hayley.
“He’s the only one who knows,” she exclaimed.
Once again, all activity stopped just short of a bloodbath.
“The only one who knows what?” Gregorovich asked.
“I know about the threat,” Hayley said. “First, my country will be punished, then Russia, then the United States. You guys are Russian. You must be after Thero just like we are. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you tried to pull me off the train. You must think I can help you find him, but you’re wrong. Kurt’s the only one who knows where Thero is.”
Kurt felt a glimmer of hope. It was quick thinking.
“You really expect me to believe that?” the muscle-bound Russian said. “You’re the scientist. They brought you along for a reason. The same reason we tried to kidnap you. Because you are the only one who understands what Thero is doing. Therefore, it stands to reason that you, not him, have discerned Thero’s whereabouts.”
“The computer determined Thero’s location,” Hayley said desperately. “It gave me a printout. I ran to Kurt to show him. It had numbers and lines on it, but I don’t know anything about azimuths and ranges and coordinates. For God sakes, I don’t even like being away from Sydney. I showed it to Kurt, he saw it. He read it. He told me we were going in the wrong direction. And then the wave hit, and it broke our ship and sank us in thirty seconds.”
The commandos exchanged glances.
“We were wondering what happened,” Gregorovich said. “We came across a lot of debris and some of your crewmen. I’m afraid they were all dead.”
“Thero’s weapon is operational,” Hayley said. “He found us because we sent out a pulse. Which means even if I build you a detector, you’re just signing your own death warrant by turning it on. He’ll destroy you like he did us.”
Gregorovich turned to Kurt. “She makes a good case, but it only changes things momentarily. You will give me what I want or I will kill your friends one by one.”
Kurt was pretty sure that would happen anyway. “No,” he said, “that isn’t how this is going to go.”
The Russian’s eyebrow went up. “It will go how I say it goes,” Gregorovich insisted.
“You don’t seem like a fool,” Kurt began, “so don’t treat me like one. If I give you what you want, then you don’t need us anymore. And we all end up dead. I’m not dumb enough to think I’m saving any lives by handing you our only bargaining chip.”