The Black Templar

by Alex Lukeman

  "What did you do with him?"

  "Clarence put him somewhere. If he decides to tell us why they came after you, you'll be the first to know."

  "I know why," Valentina said. "They want to take me back to Russia."

  "That makes sense. But how did they know you were here?" Nick said.

  "Good question," Elizabeth said. "The only ones who know about Valentina are us and some people over at Langley."

  "Then there's a leak in the CIA. There has to be."

  "I agree, it had to be someone at Langley."

  "Yesterday was the first day I was not kept at your safe house," Valentina said. "Who knew I was going to be brought here?"

  "I'll find out. If the Russians knew you were at the safe house and were watching, all they had to do was follow you when you left."

  "Still means a leak or a mole," Nick said. "Otherwise, how would they know about the safe house?"

  "DCI Hood will handle it. Let's talk about what comes next. Valentina, you've had your day to consider what you want to do. What's your decision about working with us?"

  "I do not have to think anymore about it. Whatever doubts I had are gone after last night. Orlov will not stop until he kills me or drags me back to Moscow. His ego has been wounded. I know him. No one throws the gifts of the emperor back in his face. I have no other choice."

  "You could disappear into witness protection," Elizabeth said.

  "He would find me, but that is not why I want to join you. It is not my way to hide. I will not play his victim."

  Elizabeth nodded. "Ronnie and Lamont, what do you think? You're the ones going to Croatia. Does Valentina go with you?"

  "Okay with me," Lamont said. "I've seen her in action."

  "We need her," Ronnie said.

  "Then that's settled. Valentina, consider yourself a temporary member of the team. You are on probation."

  "Probation?"

  "A time for you to prove we made the right decision."

  "I understand. You will not be sorry."

  "All right, that's settled. I have the results of a GPR satellite overpass on the objective. Steph, can you put it on the screen?"

  Stephanie tapped a key on her laptop and brought the images up on the monitor. A series of photographs showed the ancient outpost, a bleak square of stone looking out over the Mediterranean. The land around it was sere and wasted, rocky and dry.

  Stephanie pressed another key. The readings taken by the ground penetrating radar overlaid the satellite images.

  "There's something there," Nick said.

  Elizabeth said, "Freddie, please give us your analysis of the image."

  The current structure was erected over the ruins of an older site, possibly a cave. The image indicates a hollow area underneath the floor, consistent with a large underground vault. It also indicates objects within the vault. It is not possible to say what they are. There is one rectangular shape larger than the others.

  "What about metal? Does it show gold in the vault?"

  Metal of some kind is present. It is not possible to determine what kind of metal from the image.

  "What do you think the big shape is?"

  The shape is consistent with a large container. I do not have sufficient data to analyze further.

  "Could it be a tomb?" Ronnie asked.

  That is a possibility.

  "A crusader tomb," Selena said.

  "If it's a tomb, why hide it under the floor of a military outpost?" Nick said.

  "Maybe the treasure is inside it," Lamont said.

  "Maybe. Somehow I don't think it's going to turn out to be that simple," Nick said.

  "You are a pessimist, no?" Valentina said. "You would make a good Russian, Nick."

  Everyone laughed.

  CHAPTER 22

  Yevgeny Lavrov looked out at the traffic passing on Wisconsin Avenue from his third floor office in the Russian Embassy and wished he'd taken up a different kind of career. It was stuffy in a typical way inside the office. There was something about winter that brought out a need for overheated rooms, even during winters considered mild by Russian standards. Lavrov was always amused by the frantic newscasts that filled American television broadcasts when a few inches of snow fell on the city. They should try a winter in Moscow sometime. Then they would know it was like to live with snow.

  Today he had other things on his mind, more important than the American idiocy about what constituted a snowstorm. He was sweating, though he'd taken off the jacket of his three-piece suit. It had nothing to do with the heat in the room. He was waiting for a call from Moscow. He wasn't looking forward to it.

  Lavrov's post in Washington was a major career accomplishment, the kind of appointment that came before stepping up to departmental administration back at SVR headquarters in Yasenevo. The move from the field to the center of power was a big jump. Lavrov held the rank of Colonel. He badly wanted the single star of a Major General.

  If he didn't handle this call in the right way, he would never get the promotion. Worse, he'd be recalled. His career would be over, all because of Orlov's pet whore. The woman had caused endless trouble. Everyone knew about Valentina and Orlov. Lavrov was convinced that Colonel Antipova had earned her rank on her back.

  Orlov had favored her with quick promotion and entrée into the circles of Russian power, even given her a dacha in the exclusive enclave on the Black Sea that was reserved for the Federation elite. For the President of the Russian Federation, Antipova's defection was a personal betrayal. No one betrayed Vladimir Orlov and got away with it.

  Damn that woman.

  The phone rang.

  "Yes."

  "Colonel Lavrov?"

  "Yes.

  "Hold for the director."

  Lavrov heard a loud click on the line as the recorders kicked in, then a faint hum as he waited for the voice of Maxim Kerensky. Kerensky had replaced General Vysotsky as director of the Sluzhba Vneshney Razvedki, Russia's foreign intelligence service.

  Kerensky's orders were to find her and bring her back at any cost. He had passed that assignment on to Lavrov, but the attempt take her from the sister's building had failed.

  Which explained why Yevgeny Lavrov was sweating.

  Kerensky came online.

  "Colonel Lavrov."

  "Yes, sir."

  "What the fuck happened?"

  "I have no excuse, sir. The men I sent were competent. It should have been an easy abduction. They met unexpected resistance."

  Kerensky's tone was contemptuous. "Unexpected resistance. That's the best you can do? What happened to them?"

  "The target was inside the home of her sister and her husband. Somehow they managed to stop the men I sent. Two are dead. One is in intensive care and unconscious. One other survived and has been taken by the CIA. I do not yet know where he is, but I expect to have that information soon."

  "The president has a personal interest in this," Kerensky said. "It is essential there be no further embarrassment over this matter. These two men are a problem. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, sir. You want me to eliminate the two who survived. I anticipated your thoughts about this."

  "What additional steps have you taken?"

  "I spoke with JUPITER."

  JUPITER was one of Moscow's closely guarded secrets, an officer at Langley who had been feeding them information for several years.

  "Yes?"

  "When he finds out where they have taken their prisoner, he will contact me. Then I can make arrangements. I already know where they took Morozov. After today, he will no longer be a problem."

  "He better hadn't be, or you will find yourself spending the rest of winter somewhere rather more difficult than Washington. I want the Americans to know we are very angry about Colonel Antipova. Understand?"

  "Perfectly, sir."

  "Are you monitoring her?"

  Of course I am, you idiot, Lavrov thought.

  "Yes, General. At this moment she is at her sister's."

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nbsp; "She will now be on her guard," Kerensky said. "We are forced to be patient. Watch her activities and movements. If she gives you an opportunity, take her, but otherwise restrict yourself to observation. In the meantime, I want daily updates."

  "Yes, sir."

  "I'm giving you a chance to redeem yourself, Lavrov. I've reviewed your record. You've been a good officer. Don't screw this up. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Yes, General. I understand. Thank you, sir."

  "Good."

  Kerensky disconnected.

  Lavrov let out a sigh of relief. He could still salvage his career.

  He'd use Anasenko to take care of things. It was too bad about Morozov and Vetrov, but failure always came with a price. Morozov was in the ICU at a private hospital used by Langley. It shouldn't be anything a professional couldn't handle. As to Vetrov, he'd wait to hear from JUPITER and plan accordingly.

  A faint sound of metal crunching into metal came from outside. Lavrov went to the window and looked out at Wisconsin Avenue through the falling snow. Two cars had collided. As he watched, a third slid into the first two.

  Must be getting colder outside. Americans can't drive worth a shit in snow.

  CHAPTER 23

  Two in the morning was a slow time at the private hospital where Langley had hidden Morozov. The hallways were mostly deserted. Kiril Anasenko was dressed as a male nurse. He'd stolen the clothes and an ID from the men's locker room. The picture on the ID was of a man with pudgy cheeks.

  Anasenko stuffed cotton in his cheeks to make them puff out. He'd brought eyeglasses with him as a simple disguise, a prop with heavy black frames and clear lenses. The glasses changed the way his face looked. It was the sort of thing people remembered if anyone asked, distracting them from the features behind the frames. If he did the job with his usual expertise, no one would remember him at all, with or without glasses.

  The intensive care unit where Morozov lay in a coma was on the third floor. Anasenko took the stairs. When he reached the third floor he eased the door open and looked out at the hall beyond. Halfway down the polished corridor were the elevators. Just past them was the ICU.

  The unit consisted of eight rooms with large observation windows, set in a semicircle. One nurse was on duty at the raised nurse's station, sitting where she could visually monitor all the patients in their individual rooms. She had dark hair tucked up under a cap. She was writing something, her back turned toward him.

  A guard sat on a chair near the elevators, reading. Anasenko wasn't surprised by the guard's presence, but it complicated things.

  Shit. This is going to get messy.

  As he was about to reach for his pistol, Anasenko saw the man get up and drop the magazine he'd been reading on the chair.

  "Got to take a pit stop," he said to the nurse. "Back in five."

  "He'll be here when you get back," she said.

  The guard walked down the hall and disappeared around a corner. There was no one else in sight.

  Anasenko taped the latch on the door to the stairway and took a small cylinder from his pocket. With a quiet click, he twisted the end a quarter turn to arm it. The soft rubber soles of his shoes made no sound as he came up behind the unsuspecting nurse. She sensed his presence and started to turn, too late. He jammed the cylinder against her neck and pressed the trigger. A spray of anesthetic blasted into her bloodstream. The effect was instantaneous. He caught her as she fell and laid her gently on the floor.

  He was glad he didn't need to kill her. He knew that some people called him a monster behind his back, but it wasn't true. He was just efficient at carrying out orders.

  He looked at the chart she'd been working on and saw Morozov's name.

  Unit three.

  All of the rooms were occupied and softly lit, the occupants easily seen through the large windows from the observation desk. Everyone in the rooms looked old, except Morozov. They all looked like they were asleep. Everyone was hooked up to IVs and blinking monitors. Most of them looked as though it was almost time for them to die.

  In Morozov's case, that time was now.

  Anasenko entered the room and looked down at the unconscious Russian. He took out a pistol with a squat suppressor, placed it against Morozov's forehead, and pulled the trigger. It made a muffled, coughing sound. Morozov's body spasmed as the back of his skull burst open against the pillow. A red blossom spread under his head..

  The monitor recording vital functions flat lined. An alarm sounded.

  He held the pistol down behind his leg and left the room. A door opened ahead of him. Two nurses came out, running.

  Anasenko loved watching American soap operas about emergency rooms and hospitals. Now he borrowed a line.

  "Code blue, unit three!" he shouted. "Quick!"

  The nurses ran past him. Anasenko walked quickly to the stairs and pushed the door open. Two minutes later he was out of the hospital. He pulled off the white coat he'd stolen and stuffed it into the first trash bin he saw. His car was parked a few blocks away.

  He reached it, got in, and drove away.

  CHAPTER24

  The next morning Elizabeth briefed the team on the murder, including Valentina. They were meeting in Elizabeth's Georgetown home, sitting in her study. A computer monitor sat on her desk. She had her pen out and was tapping on the desk top.

  "The order to kill this man had to come from Moscow," Valentina said. "No one would dare such a thing unless it came from the very top."

  "The new Director of SVR is Maxim Kerensky," Elizabeth said.

  "Kerensky! I should have expected that. He has a reputation for ruthlessness and he is a...how do you say...a nose of brown with Orlov."

  Lamont and Ronnie burst out in laughter. Nick and Selena were smiling.

  "What is so funny?"

  "The phrase is 'brown nose,'" Selena said.

  "You're certain only Kerensky could have given such an order?" Elizabeth asked.

  "Yes, and only if Orlov told him to do it. It is very bold to kill someone in this way who is being held by your CIA."

  "At least they don't know where his partner is."

  "They found out where his buddy was, easily enough," Ronnie said.

  "I wonder why the assassin didn't just use a drug to kill him, or smother him with a pillow," Selena said. "No one would have suspected he'd been murdered."

  "They're sending a message," Nick said. "Or maybe the assassin wasn't too smart."

  "Wasn't there a guard posted? Where was he?"

  "He was in the bathroom," Elizabeth said.

  Nick shook his head. "Some guard."

  "The killer spared the nurse," Elizabeth said. "There were two witnesses who saw him. He could've killed them, but he didn't. I think you're right, it was a message."

  "Kind of a big 'fuck you' to Langley," Lamont said.

  "It is more than that," Valentina said. "They are telling you they do not approve of giving me asylum.".

  "That's too damn bad," Nick said.

  "Valentina, what do you think Kerensky's appointment means?"

  "When General Vysotsky was in command, he was always careful to consider consequences of his orders. There were times when he would try to persuade Orlov to follow a different direction. Sometimes he succeeded, sometimes not. Orlov knew Vysotsky was loyal and competent, but he did not appreciate unwillingness to simply follow orders. With Kerensky, he has a lapdog. It makes things more dangerous."

  "How so?"

  "Kerensky will do whatever Orlov wants. General Vysotsky was able to restrain some of Orlov's schemes. Now that restraint is gone."

  "Great," Ronnie said. "Just what we need. The Russian bear growling at us."

  "They will not stop trying to capture or kill me," Valentina said.

  "You don't seem too worried about it," Lamont said.

  "What is the point in worrying? Either they will succeed or they won't."

  "You have one thing going in your favor," Nick said.

  "What's that?"
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br />   "Us. We're not going to let them have you."

  "Thank you," Valentina said. "You will not be sorry that you trust me."

  "I have something interesting for all of you," Elizabeth said.

  She set her pen down and opened a drawer in her desk and took out a box. She opened the box and laid out four small earpieces.

  "This is a new gadget from DARPA's skunk works."

  The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, DARPA for short, had a straightforward mission to accomplish that was anything but simple. Their mandate was to create breakthrough technologies for national security. The agency developed and tested high-end technology for the military. Part of the Department of Defense, DARPA had extensive connections with academic, commercial, and scientific institutions throughout the U.S. and the world.

  "Each of you take one," Elizabeth said. "There's a tiny button on the unit. That's what turns it on. Do that now, and place one in your ear."

  Everyone followed her instruction.

  "Valentina, say something in Russian."

  "What should I say?"

  "Whatever comes to mind."

  "Ya by skazal anekdot, no vy ne ponyali."

  "Holy shit," Lamont said. "I understood what you said."

  "So did I." Ronnie looked impressed. "You said you'd tell a joke but I wouldn't understand."

  "That's right. As I spoke, I heard the English translation at the same time. It was very strange. Like an echo."

  "Amazing," Nick said.

  "Isn't it though," Elizabeth said. "Unfortunately, it doesn't let you speak the language. But at least you can understand what is said. It might surprise you to know you can actually buy something like this on the Internet. Just not as sophisticated or miniaturized."

  "Is Russian the only language it understands?"

  "No. It will also translate Arabic, French, German, and Spanish. They're working on expanding the language capabilities."

  "Man, it's like something out of Star Trek," Lamont said.

  "Let's discuss the mission," Elizabeth said. "Freddie?"

  Yes, Director?

  "Please bring up the map of Croatia."