Grant materialized beside Lokan with barely a spatter of blood on his tactical vest. "You okay?"
Lokan nodded. "Gorchenco has put a bounty on Carol and me," Lokan said. "Every criminal in western Russia is looking for us. And someone in Turner's network is feeding him information."
Grant's expression darkened. "The extraction point might be compromised."
"My thoughts exactly." Lokan pulled out his phone. "I need to warn Turner."
He typed quickly, explaining the situation and the code name Foxhound. Turner's response came within minutes.
No idea who that is, but I will find out. Wait for the new extraction point coordinates.
"We'll have a new location shortly," Lokan told the others.
Carol dropped to the ground and sat amidst the carnage. "I'll rest in the meantime."
The text from Turner with the new coordinates arrived only a few minutes later.
Lokan showed them to the others. "Fifteen kilometers northeast."
"On foot?" Carol asked. "That's another three hours minimum."
Camden gestured toward the trees. "The mercenaries didn't get here on foot, and I heard engines revving up, probably used by those who escaped. I bet there are vehicles left behind we can use." His gaze swept over all the dead bodies around them.
"They'll be looking for those vehicles," Dougal pointed out.
"They'll be looking for us regardless," Grant said. "Speed trumps stealth at this point. We take the vehicles."
They found two battered SUVs and a military-style truck that had seen better days. They loaded into the two SUVs, not because they needed both for the five of them, but because they might need to split up. Grant took the wheel of the lead SUV with Camden riding shotgun. Lokan drove the second vehicle with Carol beside him and Dougal in the back.
The vehicles roared to life, and they tore off down the rough forest road.
Lokan's phone buzzed with another message from Turner.Aircraft inbound. ETA to new extraction point: 43 minutes.Suggest you hurry. Local military responding to gunfire reports.
"Perfect," Lokan muttered. "Because we need more complications."
"What now?" Carol asked.
"Military's mobilizing. We have forty-three minutes to make the new extraction point."
"Then drive faster," Dougal suggested from the back seat.
In the lead vehicle, Grant was setting a punishing pace, and behind him, Lokan pressed harder on the accelerator to keep up, the SUV's engine protesting as they flew over the uneven terrain.
They'd gone five kilometers when Lokan's phone rang. Turner's number.
"Change of plans," Turner said. "Original extraction point is compromised. We're rerouting again."
"Turner—"
"Listen carefully. There's an abandoned airfield twenty kilometers due east of your current position. The pilot will put down there in..." A pause. "Thirty-seven minutes. That's the best we can do."
"Understood." Lokan was already recalculating the route. "What about?—"
The line went dead.
"East," he called to Grant over the comm. "Twenty kilometers to an abandoned airfield. We have thirty-seven minutes."
"Copy that," Grant responded. "Hold on to something."
