The Persona Protocol - By Andy McDermott Page 0,107

steep hill to the west. The waters around the shore were still frozen, but not far out the ice had thawed and broken up enough to be navigable.

As if his thought had acted as a trigger, he heard the distant drone of an engine.

But it was no boat.

He leaned out of the trailer, searching for the source. More trees along the shore blocked his view. ‘Kyle, there’s a plane coming in from the south. Can you see it?’

‘Hold on, I’ll have to turn the drone around . . .’

While he waited, Adam surveyed his surroundings. The Hind had landed a hundred yards away. Zykov, al-Rais and Sevnik were leading their respective followers towards it. Two of the terrorists carried the cases of money. Past the helicopter, something stood out even under the snow – a line running from a cutting through the trees across the flat ground and up the side of the hill. A railroad track? It led to a tumbledown structure about two hundred feet higher, rusted machinery around it.

The mine entrance.

Probably dug to extract tin or tungsten, according to Adam’s research on the area, it now contained a far more deadly element. Somewhere inside was a container full of radioactive strontium.

And the world’s most wanted terrorist was about to take delivery of it.

The thought of al-Rais again caused a brief surge of hate to rise inside him. But why?

He forced the question – and emotion – aside as Kyle’s distorted voice sounded in his earwig. ‘Adam, I’ve got a seaplane on camera. It’s a Beriev Be-200 amphibious jet – pretty cool, actually.’

‘It’s a jet?’ That made matters worse; if al-Rais got away with the RTG, he would have the advantage of both speed and range over the image of the lumbering boat-like turboprop Adam had associated with the word ‘seaplane’. Even with the US’s array of satellites attempting to track it, over the empty wilds of eastern Russia or the vast nothingness of the Pacific it could easily be lost.

‘Yeah. Looks like the pilot’s overflying the lake to check the ice. He’s probably going to come back from the north to land.’

That meant only minutes before the Beriev splashed down. Adam looked at the helicopter. The group had now reached it. Sevnik and al-Rais apparently still did not trust each other, an animated debate taking place before agreement was reached over who should keep hold of the money. The cases were placed on the ground by the Hind, wary Russian soldiers facing two of the terrorists over them. The others continued towards the mine.

‘What’s happening?’ Bianca asked.

‘They’re going to get the RTG. There’s a seaplane on the way in – we’ve got to stop it from being loaded.’

‘How?’

‘When I figure it out, I’ll tell you.’ He reached into his coat and took out his gun. ‘Okay, bring the cases. We need to get into those trees.’

Bianca collected the gear. ‘Will we be safe?’

‘Safer than in here if they put the RTG aboard.’

Her eyes widened. ‘Yes, yes, we should absolutely get out of here,’ she said, quickly convinced.

Adam jumped from the trailer, then helped Bianca down. He peered round the side of the Vityaz. The vehicle would shield them from the men by the helicopter. The driver was more of a concern, but Adam caught sight of him in the wing mirror, watching his former passengers as they headed up the hill. ‘Okay, come on,’ he said, leading the way to the woods.

They quickly reached cover. ‘Wait here,’ he told her.

‘Where are you going?’

‘To check the lake. Keep out of sight.’

Adam slung the Geiger counter’s case from his shoulder, then picked his way through the trees. The woods were far from dense; he soon had a clear view of the lake. A snow-covered jetty extended about a hundred feet out into the icy waters.

An echoing sound from behind. He looked round to see the Beriev, its lights standing out clearly against the rising hills to the north. The seaplane, red and blue stripes running along its white fuselage, descended towards the lake. It dropped to just feet above the dark surface, jet wash from its high-mounted twin engines kicking up a great plume of spray behind it, then almost hesitantly lowered its keel into the water. More spray exploded outwards, the jet bouncing before falling again. This time it stayed down, the shrill of the engines echoing across the valley as the pilot engaged reverse thrust to slow it.

Adam turned away from the sight and set off again.