He stepped onto the porch and unlatched the weather-sealed faux mailbox next to the door, revealing a touch pad and biometric scanner. Referencing the message sent to him less than an hour ago on his satellite phone, he entered a ten-digit code and waited for instructions. The screen asked him to press his index finger on his right hand against the scanner, followed by the thumb of his left hand. A new instruction appeared on the screen.
“Oksana. I need your thumb immediately,” he said.
The dark-haired operative smirked and flipped him the middle finger.
“The digital counter on the screen says you have seven seconds to press your right thumb against the scanner,” said Felix. “Six. Five.”
She scrambled up the porch and pressed her thumb against the glass, stopping the countdown at two seconds. A series of heavy-duty mechanical clicks came from the door, the screen now indicating they could proceed.
He patted her on the shoulder. “Thank you, Oksana. You can go back to making jokes now that we’re not going to be vaporized in an explosion.”
“Don’t be an asshole,” she said.
“That’s my job,” he said, grabbing the door handle and nudging the hefty door inward.
“Is it stuck?” she asked.
“No. It’s heavy like a vault door,” said Felix, reaching his hand inside. “And it must be five inches thick.”
They pushed it open together, a motion-triggered bank of fluorescent lights above revealing exactly why the designers had installed a vault-level door. Racks of military-grade weapons lined three of the walls, suspended a few feet above drawers labeled with different bullet calibers. Pistols. Assault rifles. Light machine guns. Submachine guns. Sniper rifles. He stepped inside, noting that the windows had been for show only. Not a crack of light peeped in where the windows should be. The wall facing the porch was stacked with night vision goggles, binoculars, weapons scopes of all varieties, tactical radio rigs, helmets, and several types of body armor carriers. And this was just the outer room. A keypad-guarded door sat in the middle of the interior wall, leading to the “heavy stuff,” as Pichugin’s proxy had stated. Stuff they were to “show restraint when selecting,” whatever that meant.
“Welcome, Kmart shoppers,” said Oksana.
While the team walked around, inspecting the weapons cache, Felix entered the code to open the second door, which proved to be equally as substantial as the first—for a good reason. After shoving it several inches inward, he caught a glimpse of a military-grade revolver-style grenade launcher inside. A few more inches took his breath away. Pichugin could start a small war with the weapons in this cabin. And there were more of these across the United States?
“If this room is Kmart,” grunted Felix, pushing the door all the way open, “then this one is Harrods.”
CHAPTER 36
Marnie took the motel stairs in a hurry, eager to return with a bag full of soft drinks she’d acquired from the vending machine room next to the lobby. She’d announced her intention to run out and grab a Mountain Dew a few minutes before their scheduled briefing, unintentionally inviting close to a dozen requests from the rest of the team. She’d gotten to the midpoint landing of the U-shaped stairs when she heard an argument above her. Karl Berg and Rich in a heated debate—about Devin. She slowly made her way up the rest of the stairs, taking in the whispered dispute as she approached the second-floor walkway.
“You have to trust me on this,” said Berg. “Devin has a sixth sense when it comes to surveillance. The FBI’s Special Surveillance Group is about as elite as it gets. He spent twelve years learning the tricks of the trade, then landed a position with MINERVA—against all odds. His mother poisoned that well, so to speak, and they still hired him, because he’s that good at what he does. He’s an asset to the team.”
“I’m not disputing his surveillance or countersurveillance skills,” said Rich. “But my team is pretty well versed in the same game, and we’ve been doing it for decades with our very lives on the line, which trumps Devin’s experience, in my opinion.”
“I don’t agree,” said Berg. “He’s been one step ahead of everyone from day one. He busted the team following him from his apartment. He detected all three of the operatives you placed outside of the Airbnb town house. And he anticipated the ambush a few blocks away from the town house.”
“Not soon enough,” said Rich. “They survived because we rescued them.”