The Persona Protocol - By Andy McDermott Page 0,95

changed the time stamp?’

Kyle and Holly Jo stared at each other for a moment. ‘He wouldn’t,’ she gasped. ‘Would he?’

‘He’d better not have,’ Kyle replied, flustered.

Tony laughed. ‘Guys, you can trust Levon. He likes to outwit you fair and square.’ Holly Jo’s laptop chimed. He glanced at the screen. ‘Besides, I guess we’re about to find out. Although judging from the message title . . .’

Holly Jo pouted as she read it out. ‘“Not even close.” Huh!’ She opened the email and rapidly scanned through it. ‘Cameras on each corner of the roof, and a vibration sensor on the ceiling directly above the vault. Damn. Although I’m definitely going to ask him if he’s hacked the time stamp . . .’

The pilot’s voice came over the cabin speaker. ‘Tony, Mr Morgan is calling on the video link.’

Tony pushed an intercom button to reply. ‘Okay, thanks.’ He went to the forward bulkhead and switched on the flat-screen. ‘Martin, we’re here. What is it?’

‘Just an update on your operation status,’ Morgan replied. ‘You have full approval to go ahead with a clandestine operation on Russian soil.’

That produced questioning looks throughout the cabin. ‘I thought we already had it,’ said Tony, mystified. ‘Seeing as we’re only an hour away from landing.’

Morgan rubbed the back of his head, seeming worn out from whatever meeting he had just endured. ‘State had a fit when they found out what we were doing. They didn’t want to antagonise the Chinese, and they want to antagonise the Russians even less. Even though the Admiral authorised the mission, it still got kicked upstairs to the White House. We managed to talk Alan Sternberg around – just barely, and the Admiral’s still steaming about it – and once he was on board that pretty much meant the President would approve it. Same conditions as the Macau operation, though: the US will deny any knowledge if the Russians catch you.’

Tony regarded the screen grimly. ‘Understood.’

‘We’ve just been disavowed again,’ Kyle muttered.

‘There’s one piece of good news,’ said Morgan. ‘If you secure the RTG and it’s safe to transport, you’ll have a fighter escort all the way home. F-22s from Elmendorf will pick you up as soon as you leave Russian airspace.’

‘But before that, we’re on our own?’

‘I’m afraid so. Good luck.’

‘Thanks.’ Tony disconnected, facing the others with a conflicted expression. ‘Well, you heard him. We’d better not screw this up.’

‘Good thing we brought all that survival gear,’ said Kyle. ‘We might need it if we want to stay out of a Siberian gulag.’

‘We won’t need it,’ said Baxter firmly. ‘As soon as the bad guys bring the RTG into the airport, my team will move in, take them out and capture al-Rais. We’ll be airborne before the Russians put down their vodka. We’ll be out of Russian airspace in five minutes – and in American airspace in ten. St Lawrence Island is less than sixty miles from the Russian coast, and it’s US territory. With F-22s backing us up, we’ll be home free.’

‘So long as nothing goes wrong,’ Tony reminded him.

A short, sardonic laugh from Bianca. ‘And what are the odds on that?’

26

The Edge of the World

Provideniya Bay airport, Russia

The little coastal town of Provideniya was one of the most remote settlements in Russia, located at the country’s easternmost edge on the Bering Strait separating Asia and North America. Despite this isolation, close to two thousand hardy souls lived in the former military port. The town had gained an unlikely new economic lifeline following the fall of the Soviet Union, its relative proximity to the US – and the fact that it was home to one of the very few airports in the vast Chukotka region – turning it into a gateway for Siberian tourism.

The Persona team were not there for pleasure, however. In fact, the view outside suggested that any form of fun would be hard to come by. The worst of the Russian winter had passed, the icy waters now more or less navigable, but snow shrouded the bleak, treeless landscape. Heavy grey clouds warned that more was likely to fall. The even heavier coats of the shivering Russian customs officers who boarded the aircraft, making only a cursory check of its occupants and cargo after taking a ‘gift’ of several hundred dollars, made it clear that conditions were bitterly cold.

Kyle watched the departing officials through a porthole as they hurried back to the grim concrete block of the terminal. ‘Man, I’m glad I don’t have to get off