Chapter 24

“Where’s my satellite feed, people?” Lee barked.

“It’ll be up in a moment.” The operator had entered a latitude of 50.449750 and a longitude of 30.523720. The satellite’s telescopic lens focused on the coordinates, zooming closer and closer.

The image showed three separate fires, something disturbing the wreckage, and then a huge explosion. One of the helicopter’s rockets had exploded from the intense heat.

The image was so clear and close that Heather Lee and the others could see the responding emergency crews approaching the scene.

The on-scene fire chief determined the situation was too dangerous for his personnel and, behind protected cover, directed them to pump river water in a high spray onto the three burning wrecks.

The police commander set up a perimeter to keep the public away. The two chiefs conferred about the downed helicopter. A quick call to the Ukrainian Air Force determined they had no aircraft, especially helicopters, flying in the area.

“How soon until I have my contact from the Embassy on the scene?” Lee wanted to know.

“Twenty minutes out.”

The intense flames from the three wrecks were setting off small arms ammunition. “It certainly isn’t a civilian helicopter,” the police chief commented.

Moments later, he received a report that confirmed the attempted assassination of President Zelensky. “Someone just tried to kill the president. We’re alerted that there were several collisions on the Naberezhne Highway, involving three black sedans. One was abandoned. I wonder if these are the two we’re looking for?”

“We’ll have to wait for the water to douse the fires to get a closer look.” They naturally ducked, hearing more ammunition firing off. There was another moderate explosion in the helicopter, scattering more metal and causing another fire. “I guess that answers our question about whether it’s a civilian aircraft or not.”

“If there are any victims, I doubt they survived.”

“If the explosions or fires hadn’t killed them, they would have drowned from all the water.”

Moments later, the fire chief was called to the Police barricade. “Chief, this man claims to be from the U.S. Embassy and is quite adamant about inspecting the scene for an American citizen who may be a victim.”

The man showed him his credentials. “I’m Samuel Marlowe from the U.S. Embassy. I need to inspect the victims for an American citizen.”

With perfect timing, several bullets fired off from the fire. “Hear that? It’s too dangerous to let you in. Once I give the all-clear, you’ll be escorted to the scene.”

Marlowe called Director Lee, passing on the news from the fire chief. “Let me talk to him,” she said.

“Here, Director Lee of the CIA wants a word with you.”

The fire chief took his phone and walked away from Marlowe. “Who am I speaking with?”

“I’m Director Heather Lee of the CIA, and you are who?”

“I’m Maxim Tarasenko, the Battalion Fire Chief.”

“I need you to let Sam Marlowe of our embassy inspect the wreckage for a dead American citizen.”

“I can’t do that; it’s still too dangerous. Live rounds are still firing off from the fires.”

“It is imperative that you let him past your barricade.”

“I can’t do that, Ma’am.”

“Maybe I should call our state department, or better yet, President Biden, and explain it to him, and he can call your President Zelensky.”

“You can do that. Have your President Biden call my President Zelensky. I will politely tell my president that it is still too dangerous for Ukrainian or American citizens to inspect the wreckage, and he will listen and agree.”

“How soon can Marlowe look at the wreckage?”

“Once there has been an hour of no rounds firing off, then he’ll be escorted to the crime scene. There was an attempt to assassinate President Zelensky, and it appears the two vehicles on fire are connected to that attempt.”

Heather Lee had no choice but to agree to the fire chief’s instructions. The phone passed back to Sam Marlowe, and she told him to remain there and call her immediately once he could verify that Jason Bourne was dead.

David could hear additional sirens as he made his way through a tree line, his left leg aching from a grazed bullet wound. He could see the bridge he’d have to cross on foot and was sure a police car would stop to question him.

He emerged from the tree line to see a lonely store called Central Shop. He didn’t even notice it when he was pursuing the assailants. Standing in the shadow of the building, he saw a tractor-trailer low bed, hauling two farm tractors, drive into the store parking lot.

David heard the hiss of the air brakes being applied, and then the driver stepped from the cab. He inspected the tightness of the bindings securing the tractors to the deck, then went into the store.

“I don’t care which direction you’re heading; you’re my escape.”

While the driver was in the store, David hurried to the big rig. He climbed onto the trailer and lay in the bucket of the tractor. Minutes later, the driver returned and continued on his journey. David was happy that the driver crossed the bridge in the direction he needed to go.

A cold wind buffeted him over the Dnipro River, his body shivering from the unwanted wind chill. Crossing the river, the driver headed in a southerly direction. Several kilometers along the highway, the driver slowed due to the traffic. David noticed several emergency vehicles and tow trucks at the scene of the assailant’s abandoned car.

He reflected on what had taken place, then realized the body count wouldn’t add up. There were supposed to be three dead, including him, but there were only two. He had to trust that the authorities would determine that one of the two assailants made it onto the helicopter before he shot it down.

The driver continued, going past the intersection where David had chased the two earlier. He couldn’t believe his luck as the driver exited the highway at the South Bridge interchange, then went down a side street and entered a parking lot with the same business rigs. The driver backed the truck into its parking place, then shut it down, locked it, and walked towards the company’s building.

David climbed from the free ride and limped the half-kilometer to the hideout. He crept into the shadows cast by the building as he entered the outer, then inner, building. Everything was as he had left it.