The Oracle Code Read Online Free PDF Page B

dropped behind Boris and hurled himself through the small passageway. Another thing the men hadn’t thought of was that the small arms fire would carry out of the caves and alert the camp. He didn’t know if they were using drugs or were truly just dim-witted, but hanging around to find out wasn’t an option at the moment.
    Even a fool’s bullets could kill him. And he was certain the men wouldn’t be without the long, curved herdmen’s knives so many carried out in the wilderness.
    ***
     
    Heart pounding, Dmitry stood in the passageway leading to the cave where he’d followed the men. He hadn’t known the men had reached Glukov and Lourds until he heard one of them speaking to the pair. Then there had been exchanges in a language that Dmitry couldn’t understand, but none of it sounded good.
    Quietly, he stole up to the cave entrance. He took a fresh grip on his pistol. During his time with the SVR, he had killed sixteen men. Most of those had been shot while trying to kill him or his partners. He had mortally wounded his first man when he was twenty-three.
    One of the men inside the cave cried out in pain. Since it was in the language that he didn’t understand, Dmitry was certain that neither Glukov nor Lourds had been shot.
    However, that didn’t mean they weren’t about to be.
    Dmitry drew in his breath and let it out, then he flicked on his flashlight in his left hand, placed it under his pistol in his right, and swiveled so he faced the opening in profile.
    The flashlight beam caught the black-garbed men flatfooted. One of them lay on the floor, and two others administered to him. They looked at the opening, holding up hands against the brightness of the light, and tried to see.
    One of the men in front raised his rifle to fire.
    Dmitry focused on that man first, firing three bullets into the man’s body and noting with professional satisfaction the way the target staggered back. Then he fired several shots into the knot of men trying to boil into action.
    He went through the door at a steady run, committing himself to his action. Targeting the men who were still moving, Dmitry kept walking toward them and shot them in the head, one after the other.
    Heart still beating rapidly, Dmitry kept the pistol at the ready in both hands. He still had twelve rounds of the eighteen in the magazine in his weapon. Looking around, he saw that no one else was in the cave.
    “Put the weapon down! Do it now!”
    Even with his ears ringing from the thunderous noise trapped inside the cave, Dmitry recognized the threatening timbre of a professional soldier’s voice. Quietly, he bent and placed the pistol on the ground.

6
     
    32 Miles Southwest of Herat
    Herat Province
    Afghanistan
    June 18, 2012
    Anger filled Layla’s body as she surveyed the scene of the executions. That was how she thought of what she saw before her. Even though the men lying on the ground had had weapons in their possession, they hadn’t stood a chance against the man before her.
    “Do not move!” Captain Jamshid Fitrat stepped into the cave himself.
    In his early forties, the Afghanistan National Policeman was a professional fighting man blooded in many battles. He was short and squat, powerfully built, and always watchful. He never asked questions until he had first spent time figuring out a situation for himself.
    Layla liked the captain for his professionalism, attention to detail, and because he had gone to college in the West. He had ultimately disappointed his wealthy parents because he’d chosen to become a soldier instead of the medical doctor they’d wanted him to be. He had served in the army before college and had returned to it a few years later.
    During his time in the West, Fitrat had also learned to treat women as equals. Layla had met the captain’s wife and children on occasion. The woman and the two boys seemed very affectionate. Very Western.
    Later, after she’d gotten to know him and learned that she would be appointed