Friday. Staging Van. Kiev, Ukraine.
EVAN STARED AT THE monitor, hands clenched.
They'd been in this van for days watching this door and the corner.
Obran had a routine. At roughly nine in the morning he appeared along the street. They'd never been able to determine where he came from, he was just suddenly there. He'd stop in the café on the corner where surveillance had snapped their picture, then he disappeared down an alley and into this door, rarely to be seen again until the following morning.
Obran moved around the city like a ghost.
This was the first time they'd seen Obran twice in one day.
The side door to the van opened. Logan and Harper climbed in.
"Anything?" Logan asked.
"Nope," Tucker replied.
They'd taken over watching the site in shifts, two-man teams rotating every so often. It was almost claustrophobic with all five of them in the van now.
"This might be our chance." Tucker turned around and faced them from his vantage point in the front of the van.