Jozef, Halil, Nikolay and Havel had discussed the plan in detail on the ride into Poland, but Terek had gone ahead of them and wasn’t privy to their discussion, which was why he was being given the safest position of rear backup.
Jozef tapped out his commands into his earpiece, reiterating the plan to the others. He and his team had learned morse code so they could easily communicate with Jozef. The uses went far beyond Jozef being able to give orders to his men via radio coms, though; the entire team used a combination of morse code and sign language, which allowed them seamless and silent entries and exits from their jobs, stealthy communication, and a way to let the tech team know what was happening while they were on radio silence. The method was much less cumbersome and less visible than messaging.
Once the entire team acknowledged Jozef’s commands, Jozef gave the order to move. Like a team of wraiths moving swiftly through the pitch-black night, they moved so fluidly through the trees they would have been invisible to the naked eye.
Havel and Halil went through the front gate, breaching the perimeter first. Nikolay stayed at the gate to provide cover for the team while they were inside. Two taps through the radio told Jozef they’d made it safely to the front door. Jozef acknowledged and then pushed the back gate open, crouching as he went through, sweeping the area with his goggles. Nothing moved, no heat signatures. Terek came in behind him and they made their way through the shrubbery to the back door. Per protocol, they waited and listened for twenty seconds before letting Havel know they were in position.
Three seconds later, they breached the cabin, throwing smoke grenades and moving through each room in rapid succession. Jozef met Havel in the hallway and together they moved through to the bedrooms, while the other two covered the front and back entrances so no one could come in behind them. Havel stood next to the first bedroom door, his gun up and ready while Jozef flung the door open, threw a smoke grenade and swept the interior. It was empty. They hit the next room, which was also empty.
They paused, regrouping. The cabin appeared to be empty, and now they’d lost the element of surprise. If anyone was home, they would know that they’d been discovered.
Havel tapped Jozef’s shoulder, catching his attention.
Underground? Havel signed, his face reflecting his annoyance. Jozef felt the same way. If they’d had enough time for proper surveillance, this wouldn’t be happening. They would know Vasiliy’s routine, would know if he was home or not. They would have had time for a phone tap and surveillance, which might have given them an edge.
Jozef had to think quickly. He couldn’t spend precious seconds trying to make a decision. He nodded at Havel, indicating that he should search the front of the cabin while Jozef searched the rear. The team reconvened and started swiftly searching for a trap door or loose floorboards.
It was Jozef who found the tunnel. Like a scene straight out of a movie, he leaned against a bookshelf as he was bending to flip over an oriental rug in the office. The bookshelf moved a few inches.
Jozef turned swiftly, took hold of the top of the shelf and pulled. It swung easily out, opening into a stone stairway leading into an underground tunnel. Jozef tapped furiously on his earpiece, bringing the team running to the office. He gave Halil and Terek instructions to watch the entrance, while he and Havel descended the stairs.
Now that they had an idea of where Vasiliy had gone, they moved swift and sure, back on target. The tunnel ran about a hundred yards from the house; a crude dugout reinforced with wooden beams every few yards. They swept through at top speed, running until they reached a door, which was slightly ajar, light pouring through. Jozef reached for a smoke grenade on his belt but was halted when he heard the sound of music drifting into the tunnel.
He frowned as he was able to pick up the haunting sounds of an Italian opera. The whole scene felt like a setup, but he had to press on. This was his mission and he’d never failed to complete a mission.
Rather than throw the grenade, he replaced it on his belt and carefully pushed the door open, his gun up and ready. What met his eyes was such an incongruently strange scene compared to what he'd expected, that he stood and stared for several long seconds, finally reaching up to pull his goggles from his face so he could get a better look. Havel covered his back as Jozef stepped into the room.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
An older gentleman, probably in his 70’s, spoke without looking up. Vasiliy. Though Jozef had seen pictures of the man, he hadn’t met Vasiliy in person. He was a robust man, with wide shoulders and a round belly. He sported a snowy white head of hair and a beard that reached halfway down his neck. In his hand was a fine-tipped paintbrush. He was carefully applying red paint to what looked like a doll’s face.
It took Jozef a moment to realize that he was looking at an underground workshop, not a safe room. The room was filled with tables piled high with all sizes of matryoshka, or Russian nesting dolls, in various stages of completion. One of the tables was filled with paints, jars, brushes and carving tools. A quick sweep of the room revealed a set of stairs beneath a trap door. Jozef guessed it would lead outside, set purposely away from the cabin in case the occupants needed a quick escape. It would have worked if Vasiliy had chosen to run. There was no one else in the room besides Vasiliy and there were no visible weapons besides the carving tools, and those were safely out of Vasiliy’s reach.
Finally, Vasiliy dropped his paintbrush into a nearby jar, set aside the doll and stood, stretching until his back cracked audibly. Jozef could feel Havel move behind him, bringing his gun up so he was aiming at Vasiliy’s heart.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to communicate in your language,” he said to Jozef, sounding genuinely regretful. “If you wish to speak to me before you kill me, we’ll need a translator.”
Jozef was completely taken aback by Vasiliy’s attitude. Instead of acting like a rat on the run, he was holed up in a wood smith’s paradise, calmly facing death as though it was another to-do on his checklist.
“What do you want to do, man?” Havel asked Jozef, breaking protocol and speaking so he wouldn’t have to put his weapon down.
It was Vasiliy who answered. “I can move away from the table, if you like, and keep my hands raised where you can see them. I promise, I have no motive other than to speak to you before you kill me.”
Though he was tempted to put a bullet in Vasiliy and be done with this strange job, he wanted to hear what the older man had to say. He nodded toward Havel, indicating it was alright to put the gun down. Havel did as Jozef asked, then said to Vasiliy, “Move there.” He pointed. “Hands up and out to the side, fingers spread. If you twitch wrong, I will put a bullet between your eyes. I guarantee I’ll be faster than you if you reach for anything.”
Havel was the fastest man on their team. He was bigger than the rest of them, but able to move like a speed demon when he needed to.
Vasiliy complied.
Once he was standing in the middle up the room, his arms up and out to the side, Jozef relaxed enough to sign while Havel translated. What do you want to tell me?
“Thank you for trusting me.” Vasiliy caught the look on Jozef’s face and added, “Yes, of course you don’t trust me. What I mean is, thank you for trusting me enough not to shoot before I get the chance to speak.”