make a complete loop of the aircraft and quietly slid around to the back.
The tail had been sheared off coming through the trees and tossed somewhere in the woods. From where he stood, he couldn’t see any sign of it, nor its rotor.
The rear cargo doors, mounted at the back of the fuselage and underneath where the tail had been, were still intact, but badly damaged and partially ajar.
Harvath didn’t like it. Even though they looked as if they had been forced open because of the crash, he proceeded with caution.
Sneaking a glance under one of the hinges and not seeing anything, he risked a look around the door itself. There was no one inside—at least not anyone alive.
Cargo lay scattered everywhere and there was a strong smell of spilled gasoline. Unlike jet fuel, which needed to be aerosolized first, gasoline was highly flammable. The presence of frayed electrical wires, some of which were actively sparking, was bad news.
Off to the side, he saw multiple jerry cans—likely for the snowmobiles—that had ruptured. What he didn’t see was any sign of Christina. Climbing over and around all the debris, he moved toward the cockpit.
At the forward doors, wearing harnesses, he found the two Wagner snipers on either side of the chopper. One of them was the one he had been shooting at. Judging by the man’s wounds, he had hit him at least three times. The other looked as if he had died on impact.
It appeared that Christina hadn’t been brought along after all. That could only mean that they were holding her back in Nivsky. Damn it.
Shoving the large container aside that had earlier blocked his view, he quickly went through the cabinets near the cockpit. He didn’t want to leave anything behind that could be of value.
Gathering what few things he had found, he walked them to the rear, tossed them out the cargo doors, and then examined the jerry cans. Most of them were in bad shape.
Only two of them were salvageable, so, slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he picked them up and carried them outside.
When he did, he saw Christina standing there waiting for him. Next to her was a Sámi man, his face badly beaten. And behind both of them, holding a gun, was a very large Wagner mercenary. Based on the description Christina had given of him earlier, this had to be the one from the bar—the one who was in charge.
“Hands up,” Teplov said, pointing his gun right at him.
This time, Harvath didn’t have a pistol hidden under a blanket he could use. There was no choice for him but to comply. Setting the cans down, he did as the man instructed.
CHAPTER 54
* * *
* * *
SODANKYLÄ, FINLAND
Tero Hulkkonen, from the Ministry of Defense, had met The Carlton Group jet on the tarmac at Lapland Air Command in Rovaniemi. He had an NH90 tactical transport helicopter, its rotors hot, standing by. As soon as the team had transferred their equipment, they lifted off and headed for the Jaeger Garrison 125 kilometers north-northeast in Sodankylä.
The helo landed in a heavily fenced area on the far side of the base. It reminded Chase, Sloane, and Staelin of the Delta Force compound at Fort Bragg. In fact, it was the first thing they mentioned when they hopped off the bird and began unloading their gear. Alternatively, the first thing Haney, Morrison, and Barton remarked on was how “fucking cold” it was.
The base commander, Colonel Jani Laakso, had set them up in a private barracks contiguous to their ops center. Once the team had stowed their gear, they met up with the Colonel and their MoD liaison in one of the op center’s secure conference rooms.
A few trays of hot food had been brought over from the mess hall. There was coffee and bottled water. None of The Carlton Group members bitched about dietary restrictions. They were professionals and had been trained to show respect to their hosts, especially when forging a relationship. What’s more, they had all been subjected to significantly worse cuisine. Finnish food was absolutely gourmet compared to meals they’d had in places like Somalia, Pakistan, Mozambique, and Yemen.
Everyone loaded up a plate, grabbed a coffee or water, and sat down at the long wooden table. After their flight, they were wiped out, and not in the mood to do much talking. The team was relieved when a reconnaissance specialist was shown in, the lights were dimmed, and a briefing began on a flatscreen