trained than us in hostage rescue techniques. What would the SAS do?”
“Go in, hard and fast and use the element of surprise. Roman, do you have schematics?”
“No. But it is a single story building.”
Without Intel, planning and time, any assault would have an element of Heath Robinson about it. “OK. Here is my idea. We simultaneously throw flash-bangs in windows at the front and rear, but we go in through the rear. We clear each room and grab Kopylenko. They are Militia officers not terrorists, they do not expect to be attacked.”
“Agreed but as they are not terrorists we are not shooting to kill. Roman, you and Victor will go to the front of the house and Aidan and I will take the rear. Fire warning shots, engage only if fired upon.”
Snow smiled humourlessly. Not engaging an enemy was a recipe for disaster but Blazhevich was right, it would be senseless to kill members of the Militia, however corrupt they may or may not be.
“Suit up.” Blazhevich commanded.
Blazhevich and Snow changed into digital camo overalls and all three men put on ballistic vests. Snow fastened a couple of stun grenades into his webbing and checked the Glock 22 he had retrieved from the tactical package.
Blazhevich took Snow to one side. “You do know that you are not actually officially here?”
“Yes and thank you.” He respected the risk Blazhevich had taken in including him in the assault.
“Let’s rock.”
Snow supressed a laugh, Blazhevich had been watching too many Hollywood movies.
Silently they worked their way into the treeline as the late afternoon sun started to fade. Roman collected Victor and they skirted the target until they were concealed in the shadows opposite the front of the building caused by a half built house.
Blazhevich spoke to them via his throat mic once he and Snow were at the rear. “In position. Counting down. Three…Two…One…Go…Go…Go!”
As one Snow and Blazhevich hurled flash-bangs at the windows. Both men covered their ears and closed the eyes. The stun grenades shattered the glass and sailed inside before exploding with a deafening roar and a disorientating flash of white light. Milliseconds Snow and Blazhevich climbed through the shattered glass, weapons up in a tactical stance. A woman, naked from the waist up screamed and moved away from a man who caught like a rabbit in head-lights sat frozen on a sofa, with an erection protruding like a weapon from his pants. Snow pistol-whipped him to the floor and moved further into the house. A doorway led to a narrow hallway and a two more doors. Blazhevich and Snow took a door each. Blazhevich’s room was empty but Snow’s contained the target. In the middle of the room Kopylenko sat, bound to a wooden chair.
“You?”
Captain Budt charged at Snow but the SIS operative was too fast. As Budt swung his fist Snow stepped outside the punch and simultaneously pushed down the arm with his own left forearm as he struck Budt’s jaw with his hand still holding the Glock. Budt dropped, but Snow kicked him in the stomach for good measure. Snow searched the room in wide arcs and acquired a second target, another uniformed officer. The man instantly raised his arms. Snow took one step forward and kicked him in the groin then as he doubled up struck him on the back of the head with his Glock.
“Clear.” Snow shouted as he stood and stared at Kopylenko.
“W..why?” The face of the Militia officer from Donetsk registered incomprehension.
Snow crouched in front of him. “You are Ana’s father. Regardless of what I personally think about you I am not going to let a little girl I love, lose a parent.”
“Th…thank you.”
“Thank me and thank Brian.”
Volodymyrska Street, Kyiv
Blazhevich shook Vickers’ hand as the Diplomat let him into the flat. Both men moved to the lounge where Snow was sitting with a cup of coffee watching an infomercial for a vibrating foot massager.
“I see you are reacquainting yourself
“Go in, hard and fast and use the element of surprise. Roman, do you have schematics?”
“No. But it is a single story building.”
Without Intel, planning and time, any assault would have an element of Heath Robinson about it. “OK. Here is my idea. We simultaneously throw flash-bangs in windows at the front and rear, but we go in through the rear. We clear each room and grab Kopylenko. They are Militia officers not terrorists, they do not expect to be attacked.”
“Agreed but as they are not terrorists we are not shooting to kill. Roman, you and Victor will go to the front of the house and Aidan and I will take the rear. Fire warning shots, engage only if fired upon.”
Snow smiled humourlessly. Not engaging an enemy was a recipe for disaster but Blazhevich was right, it would be senseless to kill members of the Militia, however corrupt they may or may not be.
“Suit up.” Blazhevich commanded.
Blazhevich and Snow changed into digital camo overalls and all three men put on ballistic vests. Snow fastened a couple of stun grenades into his webbing and checked the Glock 22 he had retrieved from the tactical package.
Blazhevich took Snow to one side. “You do know that you are not actually officially here?”
“Yes and thank you.” He respected the risk Blazhevich had taken in including him in the assault.
“Let’s rock.”
Snow supressed a laugh, Blazhevich had been watching too many Hollywood movies.
Silently they worked their way into the treeline as the late afternoon sun started to fade. Roman collected Victor and they skirted the target until they were concealed in the shadows opposite the front of the building caused by a half built house.
Blazhevich spoke to them via his throat mic once he and Snow were at the rear. “In position. Counting down. Three…Two…One…Go…Go…Go!”
As one Snow and Blazhevich hurled flash-bangs at the windows. Both men covered their ears and closed the eyes. The stun grenades shattered the glass and sailed inside before exploding with a deafening roar and a disorientating flash of white light. Milliseconds Snow and Blazhevich climbed through the shattered glass, weapons up in a tactical stance. A woman, naked from the waist up screamed and moved away from a man who caught like a rabbit in head-lights sat frozen on a sofa, with an erection protruding like a weapon from his pants. Snow pistol-whipped him to the floor and moved further into the house. A doorway led to a narrow hallway and a two more doors. Blazhevich and Snow took a door each. Blazhevich’s room was empty but Snow’s contained the target. In the middle of the room Kopylenko sat, bound to a wooden chair.
“You?”
Captain Budt charged at Snow but the SIS operative was too fast. As Budt swung his fist Snow stepped outside the punch and simultaneously pushed down the arm with his own left forearm as he struck Budt’s jaw with his hand still holding the Glock. Budt dropped, but Snow kicked him in the stomach for good measure. Snow searched the room in wide arcs and acquired a second target, another uniformed officer. The man instantly raised his arms. Snow took one step forward and kicked him in the groin then as he doubled up struck him on the back of the head with his Glock.
“Clear.” Snow shouted as he stood and stared at Kopylenko.
“W..why?” The face of the Militia officer from Donetsk registered incomprehension.
Snow crouched in front of him. “You are Ana’s father. Regardless of what I personally think about you I am not going to let a little girl I love, lose a parent.”
“Th…thank you.”
“Thank me and thank Brian.”
Volodymyrska Street, Kyiv
Blazhevich shook Vickers’ hand as the Diplomat let him into the flat. Both men moved to the lounge where Snow was sitting with a cup of coffee watching an infomercial for a vibrating foot massager.
“I see you are reacquainting yourself
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