"That's good news, but it won't slow them down long. Can you guarantee Illarionov gets out of the country safely?"
"He'll be behind a cordon of SBU tough guys. Nobody will get to him in Ukraine before he gets away."
"Let me know when he's on the way."
Johnson replaced the receiver and closed his eyes. He needed to think, and he needed to get back to Washington for a few days.
Chapter 29
There was one building in Washington where Olga could be assured of finding likeminded friends. The offices of the Russian-American Study Group were near the intersection of 17th and 'M' streets in the heart of the business district within easy walking distance of The White House. The exterior reminded her of the Russian Embassy, and she looked upon it as a sort of outpost on the front line.
The Group's small suite of offices was on the third floor with a view of the National Geographic Building on the opposite side of 17th Street through a narrow window.
"So how do you like Washington, Olga Vladimirovna?" The head of the Group, Valentin Gyorgievich Zartetskiy greeted her. Olga returned his smile. In contrast to Karpov, Zaretskiy was gentle and charming. He could not, of course, compare to the charismatic Solntsev who was capable of igniting the spark of heroism in even the most mediocre of people. Nevertheless, Zaretskiy's friendly and caring manner was reassuring.
"Bright and pretentious, but Moscow's better," she replied.
"True," said Zaretskiy, still smiling, "There would be nothing to do here if it weren't for the work. And we have a lot of it. Take a seat."
He led her into a small conference room where they found Stash already at the table.
Zaretskiy said, "Olga has only just arrived, and already we have a very important job for her. First, you may be surprised to learn that we have friends in America, even important people. And one of our most important jobs is to help them."
Unlike Karpov's emphatically dismissive attitude, her "official" boss treated her with respect, although with a certain informality. She could be quite successful here.
"Do you know the name Alan Sandburg?" asked Zaretskiy.
This was a name familiar to viewers of Russian television. She recalled an image of a rather dry, no longer young man talking about the dangers of aggressive American policies that could lead to conflict with Russia. He accused his own country of unleashing a new Cold War and interfering in Ukraine.
Stash bent so close to her that she could feel his breath on her ear. "He's an analyst."
Embarrassed by Stash's closeness, she leaned away and said, "Yes, I've seen him on RT."
"Mr. Sandberg is one of the most senior so-called Russian specialists in the States," Zaretskiy continued. "He understands that the security of the United States depends on maintaining good relations with Moscow, and that American interference in our sphere of influence led directly to the present crisis. He works at an influential 'think tank' and is considered their primary Russian specialist. I'm sure you understand how important his help is in supporting our interests. People at the highest levels pay attention to what he says."
Olga was intrigued. Here was an American in the very heart of the enemy camp who served Russian interests. She was certain there must be more here than met the eye. Otherwise, why would Zaretskiy and Stash be talking about the man?
Her thoughts were confirmed by Zaretskiy's next words, pronounced with a certain solemnity. "What is not evident is that he could do none of that without our help. In fact, we provide a great deal of material and guidance to him." He paused for emphasis before saying, "And we pay him well for his efforts."
"He's one of ours, and frankly it's amazing he's gotten away with it for so long," added Stash.
Zaretskiy said, "Yes. For years his 'think tank' has trusted his analyses and acted on his prognoses. His policy papers are sent to Congress, the State Department, even the Pentagon. Alan Sandburg frequently visited Russia, even in Soviet times. No one questions his competence. But he does have his detractors, and they are becoming more vocal. It is more important than ever to continue to support him in every possible way."
Stash leaned close again. "And that will be your main job for the Group, Olga."
Anxiety fluttered in her chest, like a bird trying to escape a cage. She was to be entrusted with such an important task? "How will I do this?" she asked. "And what do you mean by 'one of ours?'"
Stash smiled indulgently. "I mean that he's our creature, but he probably actually thinks he's his own man. He's quite egotistical, and that makes him easy to manipulate."
Zaretskiy broke in. "Olga, you are a young girl, and this old man will be susceptible to your obvious charms. He'll continue to do as we say, and he'll like it. In Washington our Group is just one 'think tank' among many, and it will be perfectly natural for you to be in regular contact with Sandburg. No one will suspect a thing. You'll be perfectly safe."
This was a lot to take in at once. "So he actually does not believe what he says? He just does it for the money?"
Stash laughed out loud. "Oh, he probably believes it. But all Americans love money and will do almost anything to get it."
"How does it work?"
Zaretskiy said, "Moscow sends talking points and guidance at least once a week. All you have to do is deliver them to Sandburg."
Her initial anxiety now melted into something like disappointment. After all this build up, she was to be nothing more than a messenger.
Reading her thoughts, Zaretskiy sought to reassure her. "Olga, this is a very important operation, and the fact that we are entrusting it to you should make you proud."
"And that's not all you'll be doing." Stash laid an arm around her shoulders. She was uncomfortable at the familiarity but didn't shrug him off. She was still feeling her way.
Zaretskiy smiled slyly then turned serious. "Having a person like you on our staff is really a good thing. You have a lot of practice meeting new people, and we'll put that to good use. There is a lot of Russian garbage here who dream of profiting from the troubles of their own country. It's just a bunch of filthy hipsters and shrieking gay activists. What they want is asylum, and so they complain about the 'bloody Kremlin.'
"The Yankees don't pay them much attention. Occasionally some local politician will meet with them and snap a few photos to show the voters that America is protecting human rights, and then they forget about them. Since 1991 there has not been much interest in Russia here in Washington. But our liberals often organize ugly meetings and protests at our consulates. We never took them seriously, but we still have to keep an eye on them."
Olga was filled with resentment, and there was fire in her voice. "Filthy cosmopolitan scum. What can we do?"
"We must gather as much information as possible. And this means you must go among them, get to know them. Your task is to find out all you can about their activities and plans, who are the leaders. We must discover their weaknesses, for example, find out about their families still in Russia."
"You think they'll really talk to me?"
It was Stash's turn to speak. "This isn't simple, Olga. I'll give you some names of reliable, pro-Russian activists in the Russian community. These are regular people, but they are still patriots. The community is not large, and they all know one another. They go to the same Russian theaters, put their kids in the same Russian kindergartens and Russian-language schools. If they're believers, they go to the same churches. There are even Russian dentists. Be discreet. Get to know them. We'll help you."
"Quite correct," said Zaretskiy. "With Olga's charm, we should be quite successful. Above all, remember not to become angry. Try to act naturally and unobtrusively. As soon as we can arrange it, Stash will introduce you to Alan Sandburg. We'll prepare all of this in a few days for you.
Olga left the meeting with the weight of the world on her shoulders. Zaretskiy placed a lot of faith in her "charm."
Chapter 30
"No foreign enemy can do as much damage as a traitor," said Valeriy Edua
rdovich Karpov.
His eyes bored into Olga as though he were trying to read her innermost thoughts. The girl remained somewhat of a mystery to him. Could there be anyone, he wondered, as truly dedicated as she insisted she was? And yet, despite his misgivings, she was highly recommended by Lubyanka.
Karpov's physical resources in Washington were limited and left him with little choice but to entrust the new arrival with a task of considerable importance. The main players had been in place for several weeks already, but everything depended on timing.
Olga remained silent under Karpov's measuring gaze. She sensed that her FSB handler was about to impart something important to her. The Russian word for handler is "kurator," which literally means "caretaker," and she found the term distasteful. She required no "handling;" all she needed was an assignment, and she would surely succeed.
Karpov's eyes never left her. It was a technique developed over many years interrogating enemies of the state while serving in the KGB's Second Chief Directorate. But he detected nothing in the girl that might betray a doubt.
"There is a so-called 'dissident' in Washington. His name is Mark Lvovich Shtayn. He's winning a reputation and has the ear of influential people. Apart from the normal liberal whining about 'political prisoners, he recently published a report that damages our work: the names of euro-deputies loyal to us, pro-Russian political groups throughout Europe, the influence of Russian business on certain foreign politicians. And that's not all. Shtayn is beginning to frighten people with the notion that Russia is determined to destroy American relations with Europe and destroy NATO. And they believe him because in the 90's he was an influential banker with direct access to the Kremlin leadership. He knows state secrets."
"And this man is a Russian?" asked Olga.
"A corrupt, venal Jew, like I said, a banker, a money man." muttered Karpov. "And worst of all, he somehow has access to our military secrets in the Donbas, including the identification of various units and their weaponry. You can only imagine where this shit gets his information."
"What do we know about this Shtayn?" asked Olga ignoring the vulgarity.
"He fled Russia right after Putin was elected president and received political asylum in Ukraine where he made outlandish accusations against the president. When Yanukovich came to power, he moved to the States. He's been here four years on a green card, so he's still officially a Russian citizen. We didn't pay too much attention to him until now, but he's become loud and dangerous."
"That's a shame," said Olga. Why was Karpov telling her this?
"Olga Vladimirovna," Karpov smiled thinly, "I have an assignment for you, a real assignment. Not that cover work you do for Zaretskiy."
Olga was thrilled.
"First, Olga Vladimirovna, we must gather as much information as possible on the traitor. This will be up to you. Your task is to discover all you can about his activities in the States, about his work, his friends, his habits, his contacts, but most importantly – his weaknesses, anything that may be used to compromise him."
"You think he'll talk to me?" Olga was dubious.
"No, Olga, under no circumstances should you have personal contact with him. This man is your target, the subject of your investigation. Remember the lessons you learned in Yekaterinburg. Your immediate task is to gather basic information, but you must be discreet."
"I'm already developing contacts in the Russian community. It's part of my work for Zaretskiy."
"That's an excellent place to start." The girl was smart. He gave her that. "You will report to me, and only to me, what you turn up. The next phase will be to surveil the man, map out his patterns. This will be important. It may well reveal his sources."
Stash provided a contact, an eager and reliable informant named Andrey Petrov. He was a naturalized American citizen who lived comfortably in a two-story house in the Washington suburbs. But this was a matter of convenience only, and he believed the US was teetering on the brink of destruction. For this reason he made it his business to preserve relations with his former country. He was an established realtor and made quite a good living from the Russian community.
It was easy to arrange a meeting with Petrov, who received her at his Fairfax office. He was a man of average height with thinning black hair and a bad comb-over. His eyes roamed over her body, but his manner bordered on the obsequious.
She decided to adopt an indirect approach and told him she was gathering opinions in the Russian diaspora about events in Russia, even if they were negative.
"We want to be as objective as possible in order to show our American colleagues the entire spectrum of opinion," she said.
He gave her a dubious look, as though the idea of objectivity might never have occurred to him. "Olga Vladimirovna, you're an expert and know more than I, but … we have some real assholes in the community who hate their own country even more than the American 'hawks.' Some of them spread blatant lies. When they are confronted by someone who speaks the truth it's even worse. They love to expose Russia's secrets. They make money by inciting hatred of the Homeland. It's not worth your time to write about such opinions." He was warning her that such opinions were dangerous, maybe even to her.
"You mean these people are actually taken seriously?" She injected feigned surprise into her voice. Her talent for dissembling was growing like the first shoots of a young tree as it puts down roots and blossoms.
Chapter 31
Совершенно Секретно
Eyes Only Colonel Kozlov
Subject : Black Widow
From : FSB Rezident, Washington
The initial operational phase of Black Widow is complete. Phase 2 is underway.
Subject's activities already are well-known, but additional information was successfully elicited by our new operative.
Subject continues to publish liberal slanders against the Motherland concerning so-called "political prisoners" and "Mafia connections," but even worse are his revelations about our external work. He names Euro-deputies loyal to us, delineates the pro-Russian sentiments in various European countries, and the influence of Russian business over certain foreign politicians. He also has collated what our European friends have said against the United States, with emphasis on anti-NATO sentiments. The similarity of these statements leads to the conclusion that all are based on guidance from Moscow and are aimed at disrupting the North Atlantic Alliance.
It is also clear that Subject possesses sources of highly sensitive information concerning the Russian military and its strategic planning, especially in the Donbas.
Subject is winning influence among American policymakers and elements of the right wing press. It is fair to speculate that if he is allowed to continue his subversive activities, his trajectory in Washington will continue only to rise. It is clear that he still has sources inside the Motherland, as well as in Ukraine where he resided for a number of years. Some of these sources may be official, and it is even possible that he is a witting agent of the CIA or FBI.
The Rezidentura has launched Phase 2 of this operation, the surveillance of subject. This task is simplified by the work of our asset in locating Subject's home and office. We should be in a position within a matter of weeks to accurately predict Subject's movements. The Center will be advised as soon as sufficient data has been gathered.
The full report of our operative is attached.
END END END
Chapter 32
Olga used the Russian-American Study Group's resources to review open-source information about Shtayn. There was a website, and she was surprised that his office address was openly available to the public and actually quite close to her apartment.
Shtayn must be on the U.S. Government payroll. How else to explain a couple of invitations to the White House? He had testified before Congress and frequented the State Department. He was a fixture in Washington's densely populated analytical community.
Shtayn didn't fit Zaretskiy's characterization of activists in America as
"filthy hiptsers and shrieking gay activists" that no one took seriously. No. Shtayn was something else entirely. He was a clear and present danger to the Motherland.
No matter what Russia might do, no matter in whose business she meddled, and no matter whether she was right or wrong, no one should act so cold-bloodedly against their own country. To collect information in order to pass it to the enemy was intolerable.
On Shtayn's website she found photos of him with some Euro-deputies. This coincided with Petrov's information that Shtayn spent a three-month study grant there when still a law student.
Petrov was useful in other ways, too.
"How do you know about this travel?"
"My son's nanny is his neighbor," he whispered as though he was divulging a great secret. "You know how it is here. Immigrants receive citizenship, apply for family reunification and bring their parents over. The fathers and mothers don't know a word of English and try to get illegal work, as often as not as nannies for Russian-speaking families. This woman is one of these. She a nice old lady who likes to talk. I brokered her children's purchase of a small house for her in Fairfax, and it turns out that this traitor lives next door. When he went to Europe she looked after his dog. I know when he was there right down to the very day. As I understand it, he went to Strasbourg and got to know some Europeans. That's when he started following our activities there. He obviously recruited informants and they spy on Russian diplomats. I can only guess at the rest."
He shook his head sadly.
For an instant, his words evoked school-day memories of reading about informants and firing squads during Soviet times. Petrov was just like those old schoolbook caricatures of informants. The realization did not deter Olga but rather gave her a new sense of self-worth.
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