Page 94 of Shadow Blind

Teddy reached the top of the mound and dropped to his belly. With the infrared scope attached to his rifle sweeping the compound, he’d knock down any guard who presented a problem.

The snow and ice squeaking beneath his boots, Wolf and the rest of Aggress One flipped their NVDs down and scrambled up and over the ridge, then advanced steadily along the huge snow pile that flanked the east fence.

If the Shadow Warrior favored them, they’d blend into the snowbank, camouflaged as they were with their white kits and winter fatigues. Still, his heart and pulse hammered in his ears, the combination as loud as the roar of the Thunderbird on lift off. The lack of Teddy’s rifle fire assured him the guards hadn’t returned from their walkabout…yet.

The electricity was still down as they reached the edge of the east snow pile. Twenty feet to their quarry. One by one, they darted to the back of the house and spread out along the rear wall. They’d employ a double breach, assaulting into the house from the front and rear, where they’d pinch Kuznetsov between the two aggress teams. The four SEALs, along with O’Neill, would breach the rear entrance, while Wolf and his warriors would strike from the front.

Winters presented his kit to Simcosky, who untied it and pulled out one of the pneumatic door breachers.

“Blades, not rifles,” Wolf reminded them through his comm, keeping his voice to a low, toneless whisper. Even suppressed, a rifle blast would alert Kuznetsov to their presence. “Breach on my command.”

Samuel pulled another breacher from Wolf’s kit and followed Wolf around the side of the cabin to the front entrance. Aggress Two should have surrounded the guard’s shack by now.

Still no shots hitting the air. Not from Teddy. Not from the guards. Only the static cry of the wind. He took a second to listen…to scan the compound through the green wash of his NVDs.

A-2, countdown to breach? Wolf sent the question through the neural web.

Their plan called for all doors to open simultaneously, followed by immediate aggress.

Ready. Tomas’s confident voice filled Wolf’s mind.

“Aggress in ten,” Wolf said softly through the Neealaho and the comm.

He kept watch for unwelcome eyes and ears, as Samuel inserted the thin ledge of the breacher into the gap between the door and the frame. The sound of the pneumatic thrust, and the ripping of the bolt from the frame was barely audible and masked by the rattle of the cabin’s windows as Sister Wind picked at the glass. The door hung open, listing forward. Samuel dropped the door breacher next to the wall and unsheathed his knife.

As one unmatched in knife work, Samuel went in first—low, fast, and silent—his knife pinched between his thumb and index fingers. Wolf followed, the rest of his warriors sliding in behind him.

A green-tinted guard slouched in an armchair next to a crackling fire. The guard jackknifed up as they burst through the door. Lifting his rifle, he swung the muzzle in Samuel’s direction. The knife was a blur as it left his Caetanee’s fingers.

The blade sank deep and true, silencing the shout rounding the guard’s stubbled mouth. Samuel’s victim dropped his rifle to claw at his throat, where the black of the knife handle bristled against a stream of red. Wolf launched himself across the room as the dying man yanked the blade free and the trickle of red became a fountain. If the guard grabbed the rifle and pulled the trigger before he died, their advantage would be lost, a dangerous position to be in when a mind-rending weapon was possibly on the premises.

He snatched the rifle from the guard’s lax grip and turned to scan the room. A saggy couch. A couple of recliners that listed to the side. Another armchair. But no other guards. He half turned toward the stairway in the middle of the room. It rose sharply and curved to the right. No rail, just plank walls.

Daniel, Samuel’s jenaaee, took position with his back against the wall beside the door. This was the young one’s first aggress, but he already showed the sharp instincts, intelligence, and steady nature that made his anisbecco such a lethal warrior. Samuel had done well in shaping him.

Wolf scanned the living room again. So far, the interior of the house matched the plans the Taounaha’s contact had dug up. There should be four bedrooms and a bathroom on the second floor. Kuznetsov was likely up there.

“We’re clear back here,” Mackenzie said through the comm.

Kitchen secure. Dining room secure. The updates came through the Neealaho as his warriors search the lower level of the house. Wolf relaxed as the clears hit his ears or mind.

The silence was holding. Their success looked certain.

His thoughts proved a reckless dare.

From outside, rifle fire lit the night. Loud and continuous, it easily caught Wolf’s ear. It caught another ear, too. On the floor above, high-pitched maniacal barking challenged the gun fire.

Small. Trivial teeth. No jaw strength or size to cause damage.

He dismissed the danger the dog presented, although if the rifle fire hadn’t woken Kuznetsov, the noise the ankle biter was making would. Concern for his outside warriors slid through his mind. He shut it down. His own battle stood before him. Pivoting, he launched himself at the stairs.

Success rode the back of silence, but their silence had fled and alerted their quarry to the hunt.

Chapter thirty-seven

Day 17

Petropavlovsk, Russia

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