The Chimera Vector (The Fifth Column #1)

Chapter 30: Dragon Komarov

Denton followed the security chief into his office and closed the door behind him. The décor was borderline suicidal with its varying shades of pale gray and polished concrete floor. To make it worse, it stank of body odor and week-old beef jerky. Or maybe it was the chief’s flesh Denton could smell.

The chief sank into his chair. Air hissed from the cushioned seat as it bore his weight. ‘Colonel, it’s protocol that I inform the facility adminis—’

Denton leveled his USP Compact Tactical pistol. Squeezed off two rounds. Two clicks. And, thanks to the sound suppressor, two muffled thuds.

The chief’s head jolted, then rolled forward. His chin dropped to his chest. It looked as though he’d taken a moment to ponder, but the splash of crimson on the rear wall betrayed that possibility.

Denton leaned over him and plucked a handkerchief from his breast pocket. He used it to wipe the blood from the chief’s security identification card, then pocketed it. He moved for the door and listened carefully. He could hear the six control-room operators pecking diligently at their keyboards. Removing a donut-shaped plastic object from his pocket, he opened the door a fraction and tossed the object. It was a non-pyrotechnic flashbang, straight out of Desecheo Island’s R&D unit. Through the crack in the open door, he watched as the prototype grenade skittered across the room and stopped by an operator’s foot. The operator peered down to inspect it.

Denton closed the door softly, then his eyes. Covered his ears with hands. Light crept under his eyelids as the grenade’s high-density LED array blossomed. It strobed for eleven seconds. He could hear the staggered moans of the six operators.

He opened the door and casually walked around the circle of desks, firing a single round into each operator’s skull. Inserting a fresh magazine, he gave them a second working over. Not that he ever missed. He just liked to be thorough. And it was fun.

He scooped up the prototype grenade from between two dead operators and slipped it back into his waist pocket. What he loved most about this grenade was that it was reusable.

‘Tango Zero Golf to Oscar Five Delta,’ Grace said into his radio earpiece. ‘We have located a cargo plane at the given coordinates. Booby traps have been found and disabled. No sign of the enemy. Awaiting further instructions. Over.’

Denton held down the push-to-talk switch dangling under his jaw. ‘Oscar Five Delta to Tango Zero Golf. X-Rays are already inside the facility. Conduct a quick sweep and return to blast door chokepoints, over.’

He released the switch, confident that Grace, his new shocktrooper commander, would be efficient and thorough.

‘What are you doing?’ a voice said.

Denton looked up to see Major Novak standing in the doorway. He held his MP5 submachine gun below his barrel chest. The ceiling lights emphasized his receding hairline and the pink blemishes on his fleshy cheeks.

‘Spring cleaning. We’re in command now.’ Denton pushed one of the operators off a chair. ‘Can you fetch my briefcase from the chief’s office?’

Denton let Novak stand there with the briefcase for a moment while he dragged two bodies from the table. Then he took the case and placed it on the table between two keyboards.

‘As of now, this is our forward operating post,’ he said. ‘Has Komarov been taken care of?’

The folds of flesh below Novak’s chin undulated as he nodded. ‘Echo Four Golf’s squad are taking care of her now.’

‘I want confirmation as soon as it’s done,’ Denton said.

Novak appeared to consider the order. More flesh quivered. ‘Yes, Colonel.’