Asteroid Diversion

by Bobby Akart

“Yes. The ejected shards of material will either remain in close proximity to the core, or they’ll draw back in to rebuild itself.”

  Gunner pushed his plate away and took a long drink of sweet tea. After chewing his food, he looked around and saw that some of the astronauts on the mission were eating together in a corner of the room. Their attention was focused on his conversation with Chief Rawlings.

  Gunner summarized the tactics. “We’ve got to get to the core, and the way to do that is pound away at its weakest point. A missile onslaught will give us an opening and then, hopefully, deal it a death blow.”

  “Like a jackhammer,” said Chief Rawlings with a smile. “This is why we needed you. We’re turning a planet-killing cannonball into the equivalent of shotgun bird shot. At least with bird shot, we’ve got a chance.”

  Suddenly a commotion could be heard near the entrance to the cafeteria. Two NASA security police stomped into the room and began searching with their heads on a swivel. One of the men looked toward Gunner and Chief Rawlings and elbowed the other. They immediately pushed their way through the crowded cafeteria to approach Gunner’s table.

  “Major Gunner Fox?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You need to come with us. Now!”

  “What’s this all about?” asked Chief Rawlings.

  “Sir, a routine search of Major Fox’s room has turned up illegal drugs.”

  “What the hell? Routine search? This is—” Gunner stood up and confronted the two security police.

  Chief Rawlings rushed to his side and grabbed Gunner’s right arm before the situation got out of control. “You keep quiet, Major. Let me handle this. Understand?”

  Gunner glared at his accusers and then past them to the faces of the other astronauts on the mission. They were giving him looks of disapproval and condescension. Gunner had been exposed to those types of judgmental looks in the past, but this time, they were undeserved.

  Chapter 23

  Wednesday, April 18

  Building 9

  Johnson Space Center

  Houston, Texas

  “This is bullshit, Chief!” Gunner was naturally incensed at the allegations made against him. In the so-called routine search, which actually turned out to be an internal, anonymous tip to NASA security, someone had reported they smelled the pungent aroma of marijuana emanating from Gunner’s room early that morning just before wake-up call.

  Chief Rawlings, advocating on Gunner’s behalf, explained to the investigators that Gunner was with him, touring the experimental spacecraft and drinking coffee at the time he was alleged to have been smoking weed.

  Nonetheless, NASA’s medical team insisted that Gunner be administered two separate drug tests, which took nearly four hours to reveal results. He was cleared of any drug use and released to an awaiting Chief Rawlings.

  “Did you say anything while in custody?” he asked Gunner.

  “No. Say anything about what? I have no idea what this is about. I don’t smoke marijuana. Never have.”

  “Gunner, I’m talking about small talk with the security personnel. Did any of them quiz you? Try to discuss your private life. Stuff like that.”

  “No, Chief. They stuck me away in a room, and I sat there with my thumb up my ass while I waited to be cleared. We’ve lost a whole day of sim training.”

  “I know, and we’re going to get to that. First, let me tell you that I’ve had my assistant clear your room. You’ll be bunkin’ with me until Friday morning. Also, so you know, I’m going to ask Jim, um, I mean Acting Administrator Frederick, to let me accompany you to the lunar outpost.”

  Gunner, still raw from the course of events that both embarrassed and angered him, responded rudely, “Are you my keeper now? Do you think that grass was mine?”

  Chief Rawlings stopped and pulled Gunner into an empty office. He slammed the door behind him. “No, Major. That’s not the case at all. Like Ghost, I’ve got your back. Someone wants you or this mission to fail. I’m still working all of this through in my head. In the meantime, we’ve got to stick together, for your sake and mine.”

  “Chief, you gotta help me out here. Why would anyone want this mission to fail?”

  Chief Rawlings shook his head and paced the room with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “I can only speculate. Some want the Russians to have a chance to save the asteroid for scientific study.”

  “Save it!” exclaimed Gunner. He was still fuming. “This thing could kill us all.”

  “Still, there are those who think the best method of diversion is to alter its trajectory or, better yet, force it into either a lunar or an Earth orbit.”

  “An Earth orbit? Like with the satellites? Playing pinball and wiping out everything in its path. That’s freaking brilliant.” Gunner reeked of sarcasm, and then he thought for a moment. “Wait, you said me. That they might want me to fail. What do you mean?”

  Chief Rawlings turned to Gunner. “That’s the scenario that puzzles me. I can understand some of the anti-nuke scientific community wanting to study this booger. However, Ghost thinks there might be more to it, and the reasons somehow relate to you.”

  “What the hell have I done? These other guys can’t fire missiles, at least not with precision, like me. Are they jealous that I’m even part of the team? Chief, most of them haven’t said three words to me except as it relates to my wife.”

  Chief Rawlings grimaced, trying to understand and make sense of it all. “I don’t know, Gunner, but there’s no time to waste. We’re about to have a late night, and it’s time for me to introduce you to someone you’ll either love or hate.”

  “Who?”

  “Artie.”

  Chapter 24

  Thursday, April 19

  Crimean Federal University

  Simferopol, Crimea, Russian Federation

  Cam and Bear were outfitted for their operation at Fort Belvoir. Their cover was simple because it was one they’d used before when they’d assassinated the chief organizer of the separation movement in Eastern Ukraine.

  Roman Lyagin, who had been under the thumb of Putin for years, used Moscow’s financial and political support to encourage citizens of Donetsk to push an independence referendum from Ukraine. The ultimate goal of Lyagin, and Moscow, was to bring Donetsk into the Russian Federation.

  Since the annexation of the Crimean Peninsula, Putin had sought a land bridge to his newest conquest. Battles raged for years until Moscow sought a more diplomatic strategy by sowing seeds of unrest in Donetsk to undermine the Kiev government.

  The underhanded plan was almost successful until the Ukrainian government arrested Lyagin for treason. He was later released to Russian agents in the midst of a bribery scandal, and subsequently resumed his activities of subversion.

  That was when the U.S. government got involved to tamp down the effort. Gunner, with the assistance of Cam and Bear, entered Ukraine as part of a foreign contingent of professors, ostensibly to assist in facilitating foreign students into the National University of Life and Environmental Sciences of Ukraine.

  Gunner, who had an advanced degree in Earth sciences, could walk the walk and talk the talk. He carried the bulk of the conversations when quizzed by Ukrainian authorities or university personnel. Cam and Bear deferred to Gunner and, fortunately, their cover was not exposed.

  Having that trip under their belt, and several stamps on their passports indicating they’d traveled throughout the region, made their ability to travel into Crimea easier. Over the years, as the annexation became accepted as a fait accompli, travel restrictions were eased, making way for the duo to gain entry into the Federal Russian Republic that dated back to the Tsarist Empire of the late seventeen hundreds.

  There was precious little time to brief Cam and Bear before they left. The Jackal prepared an extensive packet of information that was designed to get them past the Crimean authorities with their travel visas.

  The two traveled into the country by boat, arriving at Sevastopol, a major port on th
e Black Sea for Russia’s navy. Given the title Hero City for its resistance to the Nazis during World War II, numerous monuments to the city’s past military exploits were on full display around the immigration center.

  Once they’d cleared customs and immigration, they took a train to the Crimean capital of Simferopol. The two were most impressed with the friendliness of the passengers, who were surprisingly well versed in English. Their fellow train travelers were full of advice on restaurants and points of interest. One man knew the university well and drew them a map of important buildings for them to visit.

  “Okay, our guy in Simferopol is Aleksandr Mashchenko,” began Cam. “He’s a Crimean native and is the vice rector for research. His parents died during the annexation by the Russians, and he’s managed to keep that fact hidden from the KGB.”

  “Is he CIA?” asked Bear, looking over Cam’s shoulder as she studied Mashchenko’s dossier on her laptop.

  “No, he’s SBU, Ukrainian Security Service. Fortunately, he wasn’t outed before former president Viktor Yanukovych ordered the data on the SBU’s officer and informants destroyed.”

  “Does he speak English?” asked Bear.

  “Fluently. German, too.”

  Bear stretched in his seat to glance out the window. The train was approaching the city and began to slow. “Good. So our target, Karlov, teaches applied physics. What’s the play? Does he have a lot of exchange students in his class?”

  “Yes, that’s the tricky part. Many of them are Chinese. It was part of a large effort by Moscow and Beijing to introduce the two cultures to one another. Over the last two decades, they’ve become staunch allies and have let their barriers down to the exchange of information. It’s worked well for them, frankly, and has served to isolate the U.S.”

  “Hell, Cam, that geopolitical stuff is way above my pay grade. I’m a soldier. If somebody higher up, like Ghost, can make a national security argument for the op they’re sending me on, then I’m in. In this case, if we can help protect Gunner while getting to the bottom of some unanswered questions, then all the better.”

  The train pulled to a stop at the Simferopol Railway Station. At first, they were confused as to where to go, as none of the signs written in Russian had any directional markers. They tried to follow the crowds toward the exit that was supposed to lead them to a monument of the famed Russian admiral Pavel Nakhimov. That was where their contact from the university would meet them.

  Once clear of the station, they asked questions of anyone who could understand Cam’s attempt to pronounce the admiral’s name correctly. After several attempts, they found someone who led them directly to the monument, just a quarter mile away.

  “Let’s split up,” suggested Cam. “We both know what our contact looks like. Once you spot him, let me approach him first in case the mission has been compromised.”

  “No, Cam. Face it. I can be taken in, but you have the ability to talk your way out because at least you understand some Russian. I’ll just have to rely upon the State Department to fetch me.”

  Cam smiled and patted Bear on the back. “I can’t disagree, but I’ve got this. When you see me run my hand through my hair, you’ll know we’re clear. If I quickly walk away, then make your way to the rendezvous point in Pravda. Cool?”

  “No problem,” said Bear with a smile.

  Chapter 25

  Thursday, April 19

  Crimean Federal University

  Simferopol, Crimea, Russian Federation

  “Professor Mashchenko?” Cam asked as she calmly approached the statue where the Ukrainian agent stood.

  He nodded his head and continued to pretend to read the newspaper. “Da. I am not sure of your name.”

  “It’s not necessary. Do you have Karlov’s schedule for me?”

  “Da. It’s in my vehicle. I must escort you onto the university campus. You are my guests as part of the international exchange program. Once inside, I’ll take you near Karlov’s building.”

  Cam ran her hand through her hair, and within a minute, Bear had nonchalantly joined them.

  Mashchenko immediately appeared concerned. “He is a large man. Very intimidating.”

  “So?” asked Cam.

  “He will be noticeable. Memorable. I cannot be associated with the two people who interrogate Karlov and might later be described or identified.”

  Cam leaned into her contact’s ear and whispered, “You get us inside; we’ll take care of the rest.”

  Twenty minutes later, Mashchenko wheeled his Chinese-made Bogdan sedan into a parking space and sat quietly for a moment. Finally, he pointed to a building across a large open lawn containing park benches filled with students enjoying the warm spring sunshine.

  “Do you see the two-level building across the way with the double wooden doors? That is the science building where Karlov teaches. There is a side entrance on the right nearest the professor’s office building. He will come and go through that entrance most times.”

  “Does it cross through that thick stand of trees?”

  “Da. The mulberry trees are overgrown, but the university is prohibited from cutting them. One must lower his head to make his way down the path.”

  Bear leaned forward from the back seat. “I like it. We’ll have cover, and there’s probably a place back there for some privacy, if you know what I mean.”

  “Please allow me to leave my vehicle and then wait until the classes empty out. Students have twelve minutes to move from building to building. That’s why the campus seems quiet at this moment. Most students are in their classrooms.”

  Cam looked at her watch and then thumbed through the notes provided by their contact. “Karlov has a long break after his current class that lets out in twenty minutes. Nobody will be looking for him until his last class of the day this afternoon. That’ll be all the time we need to have a chat and then get off the peninsula.”

  Mashchenko looked them both in the eye. “Good luck to you both. I hope you find the information you seek.”

  “We do too,” said Cam.

  With that, the Ukrainian operative exited his vehicle and walked briskly in between parked cars in an effort to distance himself from the Americans. Cam checked her watch again. Just a few minutes until their cover appeared from the buildings surrounding the university common area.

  “Okay, I’ve got the syringes ready,” whispered Bear from the back seat. “I don’t like messing with this poison stuff. What if I get some on my skin or something?”

  “A-234 can be very deadly, Bear. It’s the same Novichok nerve agent used to poison the Skripal spies eleven years ago. The KGB loves the stuff, and if Karlov dies, Moscow will be blamed.”

  Bear leaned forward and looked at the atomizer that Cam rotated through her fingers as she followed the seconds ticking away on her digital watch. “What’s in the perfume sprayer?”

  “A cayenne pepper solution, one that emulates the feel of the nerve agent on his skin. Karlov will be aware of what A-234 is capable of. I suspect he’ll have lots to say in order to stay alive.”

  “Cam, they’re coming out. It’s showtime!”

  They quickly exited the vehicle and joined the throngs of students and professors who crossed the open space in different directions. The sidewalks met in a large round center area that contained yet another statue of a Crimean dignitary. Nationalism was alive and well in the former Ukrainian oblast.

  Cam and Bear walked with a purpose, focused on the area used by teachers to access their classrooms. Their intelligence revealed that Karlov was well-versed in English, and Cam could hold her own in conversational Russian. Her goal was to isolate Karlov in the wooded thicket long enough for Bear to restrain the man and drag him deeper into the woods.

  They arrived at the pathway just as the university’s staff began to walk back and forth. It was lightly traveled, as most of the teachers in the science buildings remained in their classrooms for another session. The timing of their mission was fortuitous, as they’d caug
ht Karlov on his lightest-scheduled day of the week.

  While Cam waited under a tree limb, ostensibly studying some notes, Bear slipped into the woods to search for a place to interrogate the former project manager for Russia’s space agency. Less than a minute later, Bear reemerged at the edge of the mulberry trees and provided Cam a thumbs-up, indicating he was ready.

  Cam prepared for the ambush. Thus far, Karlov hadn’t appeared. She checked her watch and confirmed that the next set of classes were about to begin. She became concerned that Mashchenko was wrong about their target’s schedule. Then the thought of a double-cross began to sink in. She nervously began to wander, continuing to study the notes that she planned to employ as a ruse to grab the man’s attention.

  Then she saw him. He was a smallish man, about Cam’s height, with a rotund belly and wire-rimmed glasses. He appeared both professorial and scientific and certainly not one to put up a fight. As he approached, Cam looked up and smiled, immediately causing the nervous man to let his guard down.

  “Privet,” she greeted him as he got closer. She spoke in Russian, but made no attempt to hide her American accent. She’d found on prior missions abroad that their targets who knew English were always eager to use it when approached by an American. “Can you help me? I need directions.”

  “Amerikanskiy?” he asked, with a slight smile.

  Cam never got a chance to respond. Bear was surveilling the path and was prepared to pounce on Karlov when the opportunity presented itself. Karlov had barely uttered the word when Bear clamped his massive right hand over the man’s mouth and dragged him brusquely into the thicket.

  Karlov attempted to shout, kicked, and struggled against Bear’s powerful arms, without success. Bear tore through the underbrush, dragging the professor backwards without regard to the beating the older man’s body was taking along the way.

  Cam picked up Karlov’s briefcase and quickly covered their tracks as she followed the swath of broken branches and shrubs left by Bear’s abduction. They got to a slight clearing, and Bear forced Karlov to the ground, keeping his large hand clamped down on the man’s mouth.