Chapter 16 Kiren #2
I tap the edge of the tablet once with my thumb before lifting my head and meeting her eyes across the room. “Then we remove the network entirely.”
Polina studies my expression before her gaze returns to the monitors. Her hands resume moving across the keyboard while additional surveillance routes appear on the central display. Vehicle markers populate the map one by one as she begins coordinating the observation teams.
Across the room, Mikel remains leaning against the counter, watching the depot. His attention moves between the screen and the growing deployment grid while Polina finalizes the surveillance positions.
The plan is already unfolding. And Ivan Malenko has no idea it’s begun.
She nods once and returns to the keyboard while new surveillance routes appear on the map across the display wall. Vehicles. Entry points. Observation positions.
The hunt has begun.
Mikel moves first, stepping toward the communications console along the far wall while pulling his phone from his pocket. He has a brief conversation and walks back toward the table while the screen fills with updated coordinates.
“Two surveillance vehicles can reach the outer road within twenty minutes,” Mikel reports, resting one hand on the table as he studies the map. “Another team is already monitoring the freight corridor.”
I examine the depot layout while he speaks.
Two vehicle entrances lead into the yard.
One gate faces the main service road while the other sits farther along the rail line behind a collapsed section of fencing.
Several long warehouse buildings stretch along the western edge of the property, their loading docks positioned directly beside the tracks.
A perfect staging area for cargo transfers.
Polina enlarges the southern portion of the property where the trucks will most likely enter.
“The depot’s original security cameras are no longer active,” Polina explains while adjusting the image resolution. “Power was disconnected years ago.”
“Which means Ivan relies entirely on his own men,” I answer.
“Yes,” she replies, her attention still on the screen.
I move closer to the display wall and study the building arrangement more carefully. Three trucks will arrive with the shipment. Enough equipment to significantly expand Ivan’s operation, which means he will want to supervise the delivery himself.
Mikel steps beside me and gestures toward the warehouse nearest the train yard.
“The convoy will likely stage here before unloading,” he suggests.
“I agree,” I reply.
Polina adjusts the satellite angle again until the loading docks along the western wall become clearer.
“If the trucks enter through the south gate, they will move through this corridor before reaching the dock area,” she explains, tracing the route across the display with one finger.
The vehicles would pass between two warehouse buildings before reaching the loading platforms, forcing them through a narrow corridor with limited maneuverability.
I rest one hand on the edge of the table while studying the angle. “This corridor becomes the choke point.”
Mikel nods slowly. “That was my thought.”
“If the trucks enter together, they will have little room to reverse.”
Polina glances between us. “You intend to block the exit.”
“Yes,” I answer.
I straighten and step away from the screen while considering the next phase of the operation. Capturing Ivan remains the preferred outcome, but contingency plans must be in place if the situation escalates.
I walk toward a smaller tactical monitor along the wall, where the warehouse’s structural layout appears in faded blueprint lines. Years of neglect have weakened several portions of the building closest to the rail line. Rust spreads across the steel beams supporting the western wall.
After studying the structure for several seconds, I turn back toward the others. “Mikel. Prepare demolition charges.”
His posture changes slightly as he processes the instruction.
“You want the facility disabled,” Mikel concludes.
“Yes.”
Polina glances over from her workstation. “Are you planning a structural collapse?”
“Only if necessary.”
The building nearest the loading dock contains the largest cargo area. If violence begins and Ivan attempts to escape through the rail corridor, removing that structure will eliminate the exit.
Mikel studies the blueprint again before asking, “Where do you want the charges placed?”
I step back toward the display and gesture toward two support columns along the western wall. “Here and here,” I explain. “These beams hold the majority of the roof weight above the loading dock.”
Mikel follows my finger across the screen. “If both supports fail simultaneously, the roof collapses across the dock area.”
“And blocks the rail exit,” I add.
Mikel pushes away from the table and walks back toward the communications console as the plan takes shape. “I’ll have the equipment ready.”
While he begins contacting the team, Polina continues compiling surveillance information across the monitors. Vehicle routes appear across the map. Observation points. Traffic cameras along the nearby highway.
I return to the financial records still open on the tablet and scroll through the most recent transfer logs.
Another payment entered Volkov’s accounts earlier this afternoon.
A large one. Exactly the type of capital movement required to fund a shipment of this size.
The timing confirms Ivan intends to move quickly.
Polina glances up from her terminal. “Do you believe Ivan knows we’re close to him?”
“No,” I reply.
“If he did, this shipment wouldn’t occur,” she continues.
“Correct.”
She studies the map again. “If he survives tonight, he may disappear.”
“Yes. Which means the opportunity can’t be wasted,” I tell her.
I set the tablet down and rest both hands against the edge of the table while considering the broader structure behind Ivan’s network. Someone built the financial foundation supporting him. Someone patient enough to remain invisible. Someone who understands the systems my father once used.
The thought returns. A former lieutenant. An old strategist. A man who once watched the Sovarin organization rise and believes it should have belonged to him. The name remains just out of reach. For now.
Mikel returns from the communications console a few minutes later. “Surveillance teams will deploy within the hour,” he reports.
“Good.”
“Two vehicles positioned along the service road,” he continues. “Another team monitoring the northern rail access.”
I nod once. “Maintain distance until the convoy arrives.”
“Understood.”
Polina brings a secondary map onto the display. “Highway traffic remains light tonight,” she explains. “If the convoy approaches from the freight corridor, we’ll have visual confirmation nearly ten minutes before arrival.”
“That will be sufficient,” I tell her.
The room grows quieter again while preparations continue across the monitors.
Vehicles begin appearing on the tracking screen as Mikel’s teams move into position around the outskirts of Charlotte.
Observation posts along the freight route.
Spotters along the service road. Each piece of the operation slides carefully into place.
After studying the deployment map for several seconds, Mikel glances toward me. “You intend to be present,” he observes.
“Yes,” I reply.
He exhales slowly. “Thought so.”
Men like Ivan require direct attention. Allowing subordinates to handle the confrontation risks losing the opportunity to uncover the structure behind him.
I walk toward the reinforced equipment cabinet near the back wall and open it. Inside rests the gear prepared for operations like this—radio transmitters, protective equipment, and several secured weapons. I remove a sidearm and check the chamber before securing it at my waist.
Mikel watches without comment as Polina continues to monitor the data feeds across the screens.
After several moments, she glances toward me again. “If Ivan arrives as expected,” she asks, “how long will you allow the operation to continue before intervening?”
“Long enough to confirm his presence.”
“And the trucks?” she asks.
“They remain.”
“Even if the cargo begins unloading?”
“Yes.”
She studies me before nodding once and returning her attention to the terminal. All attention converges on a single location.
Ivan Malenko believes tomorrow night will expand his power. Instead, it will end it.
Night settles over the industrial outskirts of Charlotte by the time we arrive at the outer perimeter of the depot.
The city lights glow faintly along the horizon several miles away, but here the world feels stripped down to asphalt, steel, and long stretches of shadow broken only by the pale floodlights mounted along the freight corridor.
Our vehicles remain dark as they idle along the service road that runs parallel to the abandoned property.
I sit in the back seat of the lead SUV, the tablet resting against my knee, as the live surveillance feeds scroll quietly across the screen.
The cameras positioned along the freight route show little activity beyond the occasional tractor-trailer passing through the highway interchange several miles away.
The depot itself remains still for now. Exactly as expected.
Mikel sits in the passenger seat beside the driver, his attention moving between the windshield and the radio unit mounted near the console. The soft murmur of communications moves through the vehicle as the other teams check their positions around the perimeter.
“North team is in place,” one of the voices reports through the radio.
Mikel presses the transmit button. “Maintain observation.”
“Understood.”
He releases the radio and glances toward me over the seat. “Southern team reports no movement at the gate yet.”
“They will arrive soon,” I reply.