Chapter Twenty
Novikov swore to himself. That was not the way he had intended the evening to go.
He had underestimated his opponent, something he’d not done in a very long time.
The last was an encounter in the Ukraine, where he had been caught unaware and paid for it with a bullet to his torso that had penetrated his chest cavity and collapsed a lung.
He absently touched his shirt where it covered the scar that was a reminder to be extra cautious, a motto he had ignored tonight.
He had expected the man to give some resistance, but not to be outright dangerous.
As a graduate student, Wilde was meant to be nerdy, weak even.
Novikov knew something was off when he had seen the man and his partner enter the U.N.
campus today. The way he moved, the way he scanned the street as he walked. He was trained, and obviously deadly.
The usually unnecessary contingencies he planned for prior to every operation turned out to be critical this evening.
Once the TV had fallen on him and nearly rendered him unconscious, Novikov scampered for the balcony and jumped.
He’d stashed a large pile of leaves below to soften his fall, and that precaution combined with a roll to distribute his weight had saved him a broken leg.
He had then moved out on a predetermined course through the forest to the south where a vehicle was stashed on the Bergstrasse, or mountain road, below.
He took the ice pack off his head and turned on his laptop.
Novikov was thankful he had been wearing a mask over his head and face.
The television falling on him had split his scalp open but the blood hadn’t escaped his mask, meaning there was no DNA evidence left behind.
And the student hadn’t seen his face, so that was not a concern.
After connecting to a VPN, he opened his secure email account and checked his inbox.
His employers had finally gotten back to him with the name trace, and he opened the file.
What he read surprised him and at the same time made him feel foolish.
Not only had he underestimated his target, but severely so.
Nathan Wilde was not only a doctoral candidate at Harvard University, but he was also a former Green Beret.
He had multiple combat deployments, had received several awards for valor in the field, and had earned two Purple Hearts for wounds sustained in combat.
The file continued with military training: Special Forces Combat Diver Qualification Course, Military Freefall School, Special Forces Advanced Reconnaissance, Target Analysis, and Exploitation Techniques Course, Special Forces Intelligence Sergeant Course… The list went on.
This man was not only academically bright, he was downright lethal.
Novikov wondered how the hell a man with that kind of background became an academic.
It was more likely Wilde would become a contractor like himself.
The brochure in the doorjamb should have been a warning, but he had dismissed it as coincidence.
He pondered it for a few moments and then let it go.
It didn’t matter. He had made a mistake that he wouldn’t repeat.
The only question now was what to do next.
He thought it over as he scrolled through known associates.
Novikov recognized a picture of the man who had been with Wilde.
The synopsis for him was a great deal shorter, but identified him as Sergeant Benjamin Walton, formerly of the British Special Air Service.
Novikov swore again. Had he encountered both of them at the same time in the room it was unlikely he would have survived.
Not waiting for the information to come back on these individuals could have cost him not only the mission but his life as well.
Something was not right. It was too big a coincidence that these two former special operators were here, searching for a report that would derail a deal that his clients had orchestrated with the Saudi government.
It was more likely they were like him, soldiers for hire, working under the flimsy cover of being students.
But to what purpose? Did they know what lay buried in the desert?
If so, it was possible they would make a move for it and attempt to claim rights of their own.
That was something Novikov could not allow.
And if he stopped it, his employers would be very gracious in rewarding him.
He needed to plan his next move. He couldn’t make another attempt against Wilde, not here. He would be on alert. It was better to lie low and wait a few days for the dust to settle. Instead, he would head to Egypt and handle the Metry woman before finding a way to deal with Wilde and his friend.
This student was becoming a major annoyance and causing him quite a bit of work over what should have been a simple contract.
Novikov promised that if the opportunity presented itself, he would make him pay.
Wilde’s death would not be quick like the others he disposed of during this operation.
He would make him feel every ounce of pain possible.