14:11
This was it.
Viktor Sidorov could feel all eyes on him as he trudged down the steps with a solemn cadence to his pace. Years of effort had led November Sun to the time at hand, and this was where Viktor's path ended.
It felt surreal to see President Vikhrov himself staring at him from behind the crescent desk onstage. The American and Chinese presidents would just be collateral.
President Vikhrov was who he really wanted.
He had hoped a casual pace down the steps would project that he was simply relocating for some insignificant reason, but Viktor stopped when he saw security beginning to shift position to meet him. You!" he shouted, raising his hand and pointing ahead to the stage. "Daniil Vikhrov - my name is Viktor Sidorov of North Ossetia. I am here on behalf of November Sun.
Diplomats, media personnel, and aides on his right and left were looking up at the man with wide eyes and curious glances.
Two men in suits walked quickly from the stage front, ascending the stairs towards Viktor.
Viktor chanced a glance over his shoulder and saw two more men, who he assumed were Presidential Secret Service, descending the stairs swiftly.
"Sir," one of them called, "come with us, immediately."
"This is a bomb!" Viktor shouted. In a fluid motion he reached into the compartment of his camera and lifted out the concealed IED with one hand, dropped the camera, and lifted a trigger detonator from his pocket with the other hand. "Nobody fucking move! One more step and you're all finished!"
His threat had the opposite effect. A woman screamed, a man hollered, and soon people were scrambling for the exits. More security personnel poured onto the main floor.
When Viktor saw the bodyguards move to extract President Vikhrov and the others, his heart dropped. His C4 contraption, though deadly, would not reach from where he stood; and so the man embraced his last remaining option.
He sprinted for the stage.
Tachanka and Kapkan bolted out of the west backstage exit. Ying and Lesion mirrored their movements from the eastern exit.
The radio chatter was deafening. Multiple elements of the security team were wondering what the fuck was happening. Kapkan was shouldering past security staff racing in the opposite direction to escort the Presidents to safety.
The bomber raced downstairs at frightening speed, clearly knowing he might not make it close enough to his target.
"Stop!" Tachanka roared, his voice bouncing like thunder off the walls.
"Could be a dead man's switch," Mira's voice warned in their earpieces. "Don't let him get close."
The man yelled in defiance and suddenly changed direction. He sprinted for Ying and Lesion on his left, and raised the detonator high like a sword on a cavalry charge.
Careful bursts of gunfire erupted from both sides of the stage. The suicide bomber's head whipped backward, his knees buckled mid-run, and his body hit the floor hard.
"Back up!" called Kapkan. "We need to—"
The IED in the dead man's hand erupted. Shrapnel tore through the air, ripping empty seats and splintering the front stage.
The shock from the blast took Ying and Lesion off their feet, and the two flailed through the air before hitting the far wall.
"We have detonation," Tachanka breathed. He and Kapkan raced for their companions. "No civilian casualties. VIPs were clear. Ying and Lesion are down."
"Confirm last," Harry called. "Ying and Lesion are down?"
Lesion sat up groggily. "We're good," he informed before stepping over Ying and extending a hand to help her up. "Tango neutralized. Substantial damage to the auditorium."
"Roger," replied Harry, expertly masking his worry. "Rejoin the VIPs. They're on their way to the fallback point."
"Just a heads-up," came Valkyrie, "Guardian is seeing no disturbances on the street level. No other instances sighted... yet."
"This is Warden. We're buckled up and ready to go down here."
Tachanka, Kapkan, Ying, and Lesion turned and rushed backstage to rejoin their FSB and MSS counterparts for the short journey down to the parking garage.
Gunfire sounded in the distance, reverberating off the hallways.
"Shots fired!" came Jianyu, the MSS security chief. "Two gunmen, automatic weapons. They've cut us off in the underground corridor!"
Tachanka slowed to a stop. "Keep going," he instructed his teammates. "I'll go above. Ping the tangos' locations for me."
"Roger that," Ying answered. She and the others sped onward. They could hear distant shouts and cries of civilians on the ground level above, and only hoped there weren't more hostiles elsewhere.
They bounded through the corridors. The echoes of gunfire was growing louder, and at last they reached a T-intersection in the hallways. The security agents were hugging corners for cover while others covered the VIPs protectively.
Seeing the American, Russian, and Chinese Heads of State ducking gunfire sent a surge of adrenaline through Ying.
"Two hostiles!" shouted Kosonov, the FSB security chief.
Ying slid to a halt and knelt at the corner. She unhitched a drone from her pack and set it down. "Alex," she called on the radio, "droning the hostiles' position."
"Copy. I'm above you. Ping them."
Ying guided the drone down the hallway, past cracking bullets and towards the gunmen. "They're on both sides of the hallway. Pinging now."
Shots suddenly tore through the ceiling above the hostiles. Small clouds of dust and drywall misted about as one terrorist fell. His comrade whirled about in shock, but Tachanka was already sending a second series of bursts from above through the ceiling.
"Tangos down," announced Ying.