Last Chance to Die

by Noah Boyd

  “The LCS was willing to give up one of theirs to make you a hero?”

  “He was the one who tried to kill you at your house by trapping you in the garage with your car running. He told Zogas, who was waiting outside, that you were in fact dead. Alex didn’t like incompetence, so someone had to be held responsible. The whole Calculus gambit was his plan. Quite ingenious, actually.”

  “Except that it is about to fail also,” Kate said.

  “Yes, I guess Alex wasn’t as smart as we thought he was. But he was quite a businessman and recognized an opportunity when it came along. Because of the Bureau’s ever-increasing scrutiny of the Russian SVR, it had become almost impossible for them to recruit spies. So Zogas started providing the service. He thought the Russians would be his customers for life. What he and I planned to do in the future was that when one of his moles stopped producing, I would be given the name so I could ‘uncover’ him, enhancing my reputation. Which in turn would give me access to more and more information, not only within the Bureau but also from the other agencies. I would have become the great American hero.”

  “How about Sundra Boston? How did you know she was onto the LCS?” Kate asked.

  “Every morning I checked the Bureau computer system to see if anyone was querying the LCS or any of the moles they were willing to give up—or myself, for that matter. When she requested tolls on Longmeadow, we knew we had to get rid of her.”

  “How about the guy in the tunnel in Chicago?”

  “He knew that Vail was coming, because Vail had me wire the funds to the account. Vail was getting to be a real thorn in our side, so our man in Chicago was told to take him out. He knew there was no real money on its way. As soon as Vail killed him, I told Zogas, and he came up with the ambush that was supposed to make me Vail’s savior. Zogas was brilliant at visualizing and planning for contingencies. Off of the ambush, he had set up the CIA involvement with that phone number that would lead you and Vail to Rellick. I came up with the idea that the Russians were protecting a CIA agent. Then if Vail didn’t figure out the three contacts between Calculus and Rellick, I would have. I knew about the video with Gulin and him, and Langston’s inability to see its importance. And I knew that you knew Rellick. The other eight photos were men I was pretty sure you didn’t know, so you’d have to pick out Rellick. Funny thing was, Rellick had no idea about your being framed to protect him. In the end he just thought the government had finally caught up with him.”

  “Why didn’t you kill Longmeadow when we first heard him on that tape?”

  “Zogas liked to profit from every death. Longmeadow was in the air force and technically bright. He had the potential to be of use later. There was no need to kill him when you missed him the first time around. The only reason they put him on the list was that when Zogas was putting this together, Longmeadow was becoming demanding. I always knew where you and Vail were because of the GPS in Vail’s car. I was the one who was monitoring it.”

  Kate said, “That’s how you followed him to the Maryland park when he found the flash drive.”

  “Yes.”

  “And what about you? What did you do it for? Idealism? No, that’s never really the case, is it? Was it to make fools of everyone else?”

  “I suppose that was part of it, but ultimately it was about one million dollars a year, tax free.”

  “And now?”

  “I’ll have to defect. I will be looked up to in Russia—not that it’s a big deal, but at least I won’t be spending the rest of my life in prison. And I have three million dollars in an account there. It’s like an SVR 401(k).”

  “More likely you’d be looking at the death penalty.”

  “If you’re trying to get me to surrender, Kate, your salesmanship could use a little work. However, the point is moot, since I’m holding the gun,” Kalix said. “But I do have one question: How did Vail break the Web site’s code? I have a different access code than Zogas did, but they’re the same number of digits, twenty-four. The Russians said they’re uncrackable. There are over eighty million combinations. And they change the codes every month.”

  “I have no idea, but maybe that’s who Vail is, one in eighty million.”

  “Too bad he’s not around to save you this time.”

  “So what are you going to do, John?”

  “You don’t think I would have given you all the answers and then let you live, did you?”

  “Then I’ve got some bad news for you.” She unbuttoned the top two buttons on her blouse, revealing a transmitter mike taped under her bra.

  Kalix tightened his grip on the automatic. “How do I know that’s not a bluff?”

  “Why do you think I sat down in front of the windows? There’s a SWAT team out there with a sniper locked onto you.”

  He smiled cautiously. “You’ve learned a lot of tricks from Vail. This feels like one of his bluffs.”

  “It could be.”

  “Then I assume there’s a green-light word or phrase for him to fire. What is it?”

  “Think about it for a second. If I say it, you’re dead.”

  Kalix took a moment. “Kate, one of us isn’t walking out of here alive. If you’re bluffing, you’re dead. If you’re not . . . well, I’m not going to prison or to death row. So let’s have the word and find out which it is.” He raised the gun up to where he could aim it more accurately.

  “The word is . . .” She stopped, looking uncomfortable.

  After a few seconds, Kalix said, “You are bluffing.” He thumbed back the hammer.

  “ . . . John Kalix is Agent X.”

  The window exploded as the shot caught Kalix fully just above the ear, ripping him sideways out of the chair.

  AFTER

  Vail walked up to the front door of the Sixteenth Street off-site and, knowing that it would be the last time, took a moment to admire the exterior construction of the old mansion. The weather had gotten warmer, almost springlike. He stuck his key in the lock and was a little surprised when it opened. After turning off the alarm, he took his time walking up the black marble staircase, listening to the echo of his steps remind him of what he was leaving behind. The door to the workroom was closed, and, not knowing what to expect, he took a moment before opening it.

  Everything had been taken from the walls, which had been patched and painted. The furniture and other pieces of equipment were in their original places. In the back room, the cot he’d slept on was gone. His suitcase with the clothes he’d left behind was on the floor in its place.

  Back at the former workroom, he called the CIA agent he’d met at the airport before taking off for Florida and made arrangements to meet him.

  Then he dialed Bursaw’s cell. He had called him from Florida after reading about Kalix’s death and the subsequent news releases regarding the Lithuanian spy ring. Vail told him he’d be back to Washington in five days and asked if they could have dinner before he took Vail to the airport. “Luke, I’m back. At the off-site.”

  “Forty-five minutes, okay?”

  “We’ve got one other stop to make, if you don’t mind.”

  When Bursaw pulled up, Vail walked out with his suitcases and put them in the trunk. “How’s the shoulder?”

  “I can tell when it’s going to rain, but that’s not such a bad thing.”

  “That’s good news,” Vail said. “Do you know where the Oceanic Grill is?”

  “I thought I was picking the restaurant.”

  “You are. This is the stop I told you I had to make.”

  “That’s okay then, because I made reservations at this Thai restaurant that has the cutest hostess.”

  “This shouldn’t take more than ten or fifteen minutes. Did you bring Rellick’s phone?”

  “It’s in the glove box. Why have I been the custodian of that thing? It’s kind of creepy, since I’m the one who had to shoot him.”

  Vail put the phone in his pocket. “All in good time, my friend.”

  Fifteen minutes later they pul
led into the Oceanic Grill’s parking lot. Vail spotted the car he was looking for and told Bursaw to park next to it. Once he did, the CIA agent got out of his car and into theirs. He handed Vail an unmarked folder. Stapled inside the front cover was a photograph. “We had a hard time tracking down that phone number you gave me at the airport. Where did it come from?”

  The number was the one that had called back on Rellick’s phone right after Luke killed him, the man Rellick had called “Tanner.” Vail looked at the photo. “This is who it came back to?”

  “Believe me, it wasn’t easy tracing it back. His name is Viktor Branikov. We call him ‘The Mosquito.’ ”

  “The Mosquito?”

  “Yeah, from Dr. Zhivago. The character Viktor Komarovsky, who seduces Lara and sucks the blood out of everyone no matter which communist regime is in power. The root of the name, komar, is Russian for ‘mosquito.’ That’s this guy, Branikov. He actually survived the KGB purges and has prospered. According to our source at the embassy, he’s the rezident.”

  “ ‘Rezident’? What’s that?” Bursaw asked.

  Vail said, “The head of the station in Washington for the SVR.”

  “Supposedly he worked his way up through the ranks by making difficult problems disappear permanently.”

  “What about the dust?” Vail asked.

  “Like you wanted, we had the same source at their embassy start the rumor that Branikov was doubling for one of our agents, a Donald Winston. Of course there is no one by that name with us, but we had someone play the role. We also had our source spread the word that Winston went to the same gym five days a week. Three days ago, when Winston got back to his car, there was dust all over the passenger side.” He handed Vail a common-looking pen. “Just point and click.”

  Vail showed Bursaw the photograph. “Luke, go in there and get a table near this guy. I want to make sure he’s completely alone. I’ll be five minutes behind you. If you spot anybody else, give yourself a tug on the ear when I come in.”

  Bursaw entered the restaurant and immediately spotted the big Russian alone at a table in a side room. He was just finishing his meal and looked hard into Bursaw’s eyes as the black agent came into the room, without an employee seating him, and sat down a couple of tables away. Bursaw watched him carefully, because he knew that if someone was watching Branikov’s back, it would be at that moment that the Russian would signal him to be suspicious of Bursaw. Instead he resumed drinking his coffee.

  Five minutes later Vail walked into the side room. Bursaw didn’t look up, letting him know that his target was alone. Vail sat down at the Russian agent’s table. “How are you?” Vail said, reaching into the bread basket.

  “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

  “Sure, you know, Steve Vail. You tried to kill me a couple of times.”

  “I’m sorry, you must have mistaken me for someone else,” the Russian said. “Someone who doesn’t sound very nice.”

  “You’re not Viktor Branikov? Or would you prefer ‘Tanner’?”

  Branikov set down his coffee cup and leaned back, a smug grin forming on his face. “Mr. Vail—I assume it’s no longer Agent Vail—I have to wonder why you’re here.”

  “You must be pretty pleased with yourself. The Lithuanians had no idea that they were your fall guys. If they’d been successful killing Kate at her home, then you would have been able to have Kalix ‘solve’ the murder, naming the Lithuanians as responsible, and he would have gotten promoted that way. That was your original plan, wasn’t it? Then, of course, you would have had to kill Zogas, so he couldn’t involve the Russians.”

  “If that’s true, then you have done my organization a great service.”

  “That would have been true if one of our snipers hadn’t killed your boy Kalix. I don’t imagine they’re planning any parades for you in Moscow.”

  “That’s an awful lot of supposition, Mr. Vail.”

  “You’re right, and you can call me Steve if you like. Actually, I’m here because it occurred to me that you might have other American double agents left in your stable.”

  “And if that were the case, do you think I would just turn their names over to you?”

  “You just lost a bunch of your assets, not to mention the services of the Lithuanians. I imagine Moscow is not pleased at this point. Let me give you some words of advice—‘political asylum.’ ”

  Branikov threw his head back and laughed. “Steve, I’ve come to expect more from you. That’s a very weak tactic. One that assumes there are no other options at my disposal.”

  “Then how about you being charged with the attempted murder of an FBI deputy assistant director and one regular old street agent?”

  “I am disappointed. I know this is not your usual profession, but certainly you’ve heard of diplomatic immunity. If you could prove anything, which I don’t see how you can, at most I would be sent back to Moscow. And that is kind of an honor for a man in my field.”

  “Unfortunately, I believe you’re right.” The waiter brought the check, and Vail grabbed it. “Allow me. Never let it be said that I’m not a gracious loser.” He gave the waiter a credit card.

  “You’re too kind.” Branikov sipped his coffee in silence, studying Vail until the waiter brought back the charge slip and the card.

  “I guess you’d better hope that nothing happens to the rest of your sources, because Moscow might start to wonder if you turned.”

  “I’ll try to be careful,” Branikov said, his tone amused and patronizing.

  Vail looked at the bill and then took out the pen the CIA agent had given him. As he started to write in the waiter’s tip, the pen slipped from his hand and fell to the floor. Vail bent over and picked it up. Outside the Russian’s line of vision, he pushed the clicker, silently discharging a mist of the ultraviolet powder, covering Branikov’s shoes. Vail straightened up and attempted to write with the atomizer pen and then took the waiter’s pen and signed the receipt.

  “Thank you, Steve. You know, it’s too bad you don’t do this for a living. It would have made life infinitely more interesting to have you around.” Branikov got up and walked out, giving Bursaw a last hard look.

  A few minutes later, Vail and Bursaw walked out into the parking lot and over to the CIA agent’s car. Vail took out Rellick’s phone and handed it to him.

  “That’s it? He loaded it into his phone?” the agent asked.

  “The list is in there.”

  “And you didn’t read it.”

  “It’s no longer any of my business, so no.”

  “We appreciate it,” the agent said, and got back into his car. The two men watched him pull out of the lot before getting back into theirs.

  Bursaw said, “Okay, I’m just a common street agent, incapable of understanding the subtleties of counterintelligence. What just happened?”

  “Branikov was responsible for everything. He’s the one who contracted the LCS to carry out Kate’s ‘suicide.’ But between our being unable to prove it and his diplomatic immunity, he was going to get away with everything. You know how I feel about that. So before I left for Florida, I asked the CIA to identify the phone number that called Rellick’s phone that night in the park. I knew that they had a source in the Russian embassy, because they gave us some information from him early on in the Calculus case. So when they identified Branikov as Rellick’s handler, they had their source in the embassy leak it out that Branikov was a double agent and that he was being handled by a fictitious CIA officer named Donald Winston, and that he went to the gym every day. A technique they commonly use is spy dust. When they know their suspected man’s contact—in this case Winston—they find a way to put dust in his car and then discreetly keep checking Branikov’s clothing to see if it shows up. If it does, they know that he’s been in the car and doubling. Three days ago the CIA found the dust in Winston’s car. So they collected it and loaded it into the pen, which I just used to spray Branikov’s shoes with.”

  “So they’re alread
y suspicious of him, and when they find the dust on his shoes, they’ll start putting him through the grinder.”

  “I can’t speak for Russian bureaucracy, but that’s the way it looks on the drawing board. And as soon as the Bureau starts making arrests off the lists that were in Zogas’s computers, Branikov’s looking at some serious gulag time. At best.”

  Bursaw laughed. “It does have a nice symmetrical irony to it, since the dust was part of Kate’s frame. Like the Bible says: ‘Dust to dust.’ ”

  “I think the thing I like best about you, Luke, is you appreciate just how flawed an individual I am.”

  “That’s very flattering—I think—but you’re still buying dinner.”

  “Let’s go meet your Thai hostess.”

  They drove for a while before Bursaw asked, “Well, how was wreck diving?”

  “It was okay, you know.”

  “I never really take vacations, but aren’t you supposed to look at least a little bit happy when you come back?”

  “Sounds like I’m about to be the recipient of well-intentioned but pointless meddling,” Vail said.

  “As a friend it’s my job to stick my nose in your business.”

  “Right now that would be a good way to end our friendship.”

  “Okay, what do you want to talk about?”

  “Catch me up on what’s been going on since I left.”

  “We found six bodies in the well. They’ve only been able to identify two of them—Sundra and that missing air force sergeant. The lye had been working on the others for a while, so we may never know who they are.”

  “And what are you doing with all your free time now?”

  “I do have one fairly large bone to pick with you. They’ve got me working counterintelligence because I know all the players, and thanks to you they figure I can keep my mouth shut.”

  “Glad to help.”

  “Actually, it’s not that bad. We’re going after guys we know are spies. It’s not like the rest of the time where you’re guessing and hoping. And if I get bored, I’ll do something not so surprisingly stupid and be sent back to WFO. You know me, whatever way the wind blows.”