The other man had started to turn to see why his friend was on the ground, but it was too late. Deacon snapped his neck and then wiped his knife on the man's shirt, cleaning the blood off. He dragged both bodies behind the crates and then moved to the door. He needed to find Levkin.
There was a small window in the metal door, and Deacon peeked through it to see if he could get a head count. There were two eighteen-wheelers inside. One of the cabs was painted bright orange, and the trailer said "Broncos" down the side, with an image of the team logo. The other truck cab was painted navy and the trailer belonged to the Seattle Seahawks. Or at least they made a good impression of it.
The backs of the trailers were open, and he could see the equipment being loaded inside. Bags and bags of footballs, extra pads, sideline equipment. The preparation for this event had been months, if not years, in the making. They had everything they needed to get any explosives and XTNC-50 into the stadiums.
He counted six men inside the warehouse, and all of them were busy. No one even paid attention as he slipped through the door and kept to the perimeter so he could hide behind whatever cover he could find. He dropped whoever he came in contact with, making his way toward the two men talking at the front.
He recognized Ivan Levkin. He was a tall, thin man. Almost stork-like in appearance. His blond hair was fine and fell in wisps around a face that only a mother could love. He resembled a vulture-bony face, crooked nose, and prominent Adam's apple.
The comm in Deacon's ear buzzed as Elias came on and gave the all-clear for warehouse number one. It wasn't long after that Levi gave his all-clear. They indicated that they'd move together to the next warehouse and repeat the process.
Deacon didn't dare speak. He was completely focused on Levkin, who seemed beyond stressed.
"We don't have time for your tantrums, Josef," Levkin spat in Russian. "We must leave here. By this time tomorrow this place will be swarming with cops and God knows who else."
"I want my money. Egorov promised we'd be paid," Josef said, not budging.
"And you will be. After everything has been moved. Remember that if the plan is interrupted, you'll be getting no money at all."
"I don't trust you," he said. "Egorov either."
Levkin shrugged. "I don't really care. There are enough explosives and XTNC-50 in these warehouses to reduce the entire city to dust. It wasn't the goal, but it'll work in a pinch. Your family lives here, right?"
"Fuck you," Josef said. "Tell Egorov I'm not going down for him. If that money isn't in my hand before we leave, then you can find another driver. I'm not doing this for charity."
"Right, right," Levkin said, his smile cold. He pulled a weapon from the small of his back and fired point-blank at Josef.
It was one less man Deacon would have to kill.
"Who is going to drive your truck now?" Deacon called out in Russian. He was hidden behind the cab of the truck and well out of the way when Levkin turned and fired.
"Who is there?" he answered. "Is that you, Vasily?"
"I think Vasily is dead," Deacon said. "They all are."
Levkin turned in all directions, looking for the others. But there was no one. "Who are you?" he called out.
Deacon stepped out from behind the truck to face him, and to his surprise, Levkin broke out into a grin.
"Ahh, he said you would come," he said. "But I did not believe him. I thought his trap too trivial for one such as you. You are Deacon Tucker. You were CIA. I've read about you. Operation Quantum Leap was very impressive."
"Thank you," Deacon said, making sure nothing in his voice betrayed his anger. "It seems you know as much about me as I know about you."
"More, more, my friend. Much more. You see, Yevorovich's email that your team hacked into was set up specifically for those fishing to find out more about us. Instead of you finding out about Yevorovich, the tables were turned and we were able to find out all about you."
"I'm clear," Axel said in his comm unit.
"All clear," Dante said. "Heading to rendezvous point."
"How did you know we were coming for you?" Deacon asked.
"We've been linked into your satellite and communications systems. You are not the only ones who have top-notch technology."
"But it's not my men who are dead, and it's not my shipments that are going to be stuck here so they can be confiscated by Homeland Security."
Levkin took his eyes off Deacon to look around again, searching for his men and listening for the normal sounds coming from outside. There was nothing. Just silence.