by Alex Lukeman
"Perhaps it's better this way," Payne said. "She's served her purpose. Now that we know where to look, we can use our own men without interference."
"How do you want to proceed?"
"Contact our brothers in Rome. They have everything needed for this. Dispatch them immediately."
"What about the others? Do we inform them of what we've discovered?"
"Not yet. Let's make sure the treasure is there before we get everybody else involved. Once we recover the relic, I will convene a meeting of the High Council."
"As you wish," Dubois said.
CHAPTER 27
Back at the loft after the morning meeting, Nick changed into his running clothes and holstered his Colt at the small of his back.
"I'm going for a run. With a little luck, Adam won't be around this time."
"There's a lot of ice on the streets," Selena said. "Be careful."
"You never used to say that when we were in the field."
"That's because I thought it would be bad luck. But Washington traffic in the winter, on icy roads? That's really scary."
Nick laughed. "Okay, I'll be careful."
Valentina watched the door close behind him.
"Coffee?" Selena asked.
"Yes. Thank you, sister."
"It's hard to get used to, isn't it?"
"What is?"
"Sister. It still seems strange to me."
"And to me. But I am very glad to say it."
They went into the kitchen. Valentina sat down at the kitchen table while Selena brewed the coffee.
"Nick is good with children."
"Yes, he's a great father. He helps as much as he can."
"You are lucky to have this relationship."
"It wasn't easy sometimes. Nick can be difficult."
"All the good men are," Valentina said.
"Were you involved with anyone in Russia? I mean, someone you cared for?"
"No. Because I was SVR my choices were limited. Besides, there was Orlov. It was not secret. I was, what you say, hands-off. Few would risk his jealousy."
The coffee was ready. Selena poured two cups, brought them over to the kitchen table, and sat down.
"What was Orlov like? As a lover?"
Valentina snorted. "He was not a lover. He was a machine, a small one." She held up her thumb and forefinger, about two inches apart.
Selena laughed. "Oh my. And he goes to such lengths to prove his virility to the world. Swimming outside in winter, hunting bears, that sort of thing. Did you know that Napoleon had a very small organ also?"
"Perhaps it has something to do with being a dictator," Valentina said.
"And short. Both of them are not very tall."
"He wears lifts in his shoes," Valentina said.
"I'm so glad you escaped Russia. You're the only blood family I have. Except for the twins, of course."
"I too, am glad. I spent many years wishing I had family after my mother died. They told me she died a heroic death, but she was a drunk. She drove off an empty road in Switzerland one night. After that, the state was my family. The state and General Vysotsky. I used to pretend I was a lost princess and that my father would come for me one day."
"I'm sorry. And I'm sorry you never got to know our father. He was a wonderful man."
"It was a long time ago. Things are different now."
"Do you miss Russia? Wait, that's a dumb question. Of course you do."
"It is a beautiful place, Russia. The winters are hard, but it is part of what makes us strong. We are a strong people. No one will ever defeat us."
"I think history proves your point."
"I hope that I do not have to fight with my countrymen," Valentina said.
"I don't think that's going to happen. In all the missions with the Project, we never targeted Russians. Did you know Major Arkady Korov? He worked with Vysotsky."
"I did not know him. I have heard about him."
"He was a serving Spetsnaz officer when Vysotsky sent him to us. We were suspicious of each other at first, but he became a good friend. We worked to keep our two nations from going to war. He was killed on a mission with us. We trusted him completely."
"Your director, Harker. She seems competent. In Russia you would not find a woman running a unit like yours."
"Elizabeth is more than competent," Selena said. "She's amazing, one of the toughest women I've ever known. She was shot by a professional assassin and still managed to defeat him. Working with us is a high risk job. You'll need all the skills you've learned when you're in the field with Nick and the others."
"Do you wish you were going with them on this mission?"
"Honestly? I loved the challenges each mission presented, and I miss that. I never knew what was going to happen, even though we'd planned it out and tried to think of everything. But I'm not as fast as I used to be, and now there's Jason and Katrina. So, no, I don't wish I was going."
"You were in your military?"
"No."
"Then how did you become involved with Nick and others?"
"That's a long story," Selena said. She sipped her coffee.
"We have time."
Selena told Valentina how she'd first come to the Project. Her wealthy uncle had been brutally murdered, his accounts compromised, an ancient book stolen.
"I didn't know about you back then. My uncle was the only family I had," Selena said. "President Rice was a close friend of his. He asked Elizabeth to look into it. It turned out that Chinese military intelligence was behind it. She called me in to see if I knew anything that could help."
"That must have been terrible for you," Valentina said, "your uncle being murdered."
"It was. It took me a long time to get past it."
She paused, remembering.
"Uncle William left a letter for me on his laptop. He had good connections in China and a love of archaeology. He'd been negotiating to excavate the tomb of the First Emperor. It's never been opened, in spite of the fact that everyone knows where it is. Anyway, my uncle had an old book he'd acquired in Bhutan, about the First Emperor and his search for immortality. In the letter, he said he thought the Chinese were after the book and that he'd hidden it in the same place where I used to hide things when I was a child. No one except me would know where that was."
"The Chinese killed your uncle because of this book?"
"Yes, but I didn't know why at the time, or what that would lead to. That was the day I met Nick. His car had overheated and I offered him a lift back to town. I'd just bought a new Mercedes, a beautiful car."
"Like the car you have now?"
"More or less. It was faster and it was a different color. Anyway that ride back to town was the beginning of life with the Project."
"What happened?"
"The Chinese showed up and tried to run us off the road. I love driving fast and I'd taken lessons in defensive driving, but I never thought I'd have to use them. I managed to get off the highway and they came after us with guns. Nick shot out the windshield and drove them off. My new car was a wreck."
"This is a strange way to begin a relationship."
"It was just the beginning," Selena said. "One thing led to another and I ended up as part of the team."
When Nick came back from his run an hour later, the two women were deep in animated conversation. He watched Valentina.
I'm glad she's here, Nick thought. I hope this works out.
CHAPTER 28
It was morning in Washington, eight hours later in Moscow. At the Russian Embassy Yevgeny Lavrov had been trying to reach his boss without success. Finally he got through. Kerensky sounded impatient.
"This had better be important, Lavrov. I'm about to leave for a meeting with the president."
"I have new information about the traitor, Antipova."
"Go on."
"I have been in contact with JUPITER. The Americans are mounting a covert mission to Croatia. Antipova will be with them. It could provide an opportunit
y to repatriate her."
"Croatia? Why are they going to Croatia?"
"JUPITER doesn't know, only that the objective is a medieval ruin on the island of Brac. I am sending you the coordinates with my report. They plan to leave from Italy, utilizing one of the new stealth boats their Navy is putting into service. A night mission to insert them into Croatian territory is planned for two days from now."
"President Orlov will be pleased to hear news of his ungrateful mistress. You are certain this information is correct?"
"JUPITER has never failed us in the past, General. If he says Antipova is going to Croatia, you can count on it."
"Very well. Continue to monitor her activities."
"Yes, Comrade General."
Kerensky disconnected.
The old address form of Comrade that had been used in the days of the Soviet Union was slowly coming back into style. Kerensky rather liked it. It was an effective tool for conditioning the collective and promoting the illusion of equality and common goals between individuals of vastly different rank and station.
Kerensky smiled at the thought. The masses were so easily manipulated. The propaganda espousing equality of all citizens had always been a lie, in both the old Russia and the new. Kerensky had no doubt it would remain that way. After all, it was the natural order of things.
Like his predecessor Vysotsky, Kerensky had risen through the ranks of the old KGB and been absorbed into its newest reincarnation, the SVR. Vysotsky had gained control of both SVR and the FSB, Russia's internal security agency, but with his death the two branches of state security were once again under separate directors. Kerensky had his eye on the same goal that had driven Vysotsky, the creation of a new, all-powerful KGB under his leadership.
Bringing Antipova back to Moscow would go a long way toward helping him accomplish that goal.
Twenty minutes later, Kerensky was in his armored limo, headed to the Kremlin and his meeting with Vladimir Orlov. During the ride he thought about how to use what he'd just learned about Antipova and her new American friends to his advantage when he was with the president. As the limo rolled through Moscow traffic in the express lane reserved for ranking officials, a plan began to take shape in Kerensky's mind.
Orlov's official office was in the Senate building, in the northern corner of the Kremlin complex. The circular stone courtyard in front of the building had been swept clean of snow. Guards dressed in fur lined caps and heavy greatcoats, armed with Kalashnikov AN-94s, saluted as Kerensky entered. He crossed the rotunda floor, glancing up at the dome eighty feet above, and continued toward two tall doors guarded by sentries in dress uniforms reminiscent of the times of the Czars. Orlov's official office was beyond those two doors.
He was expected. The sentries came to attention, then opened the doors.
Orlov was behind a large desk inlaid with Ukrainian malachite, the same one Nikita Khrushchev had used in the days of the Soviet Union. For Orlov, the desk was a reminder of a time when Russia had been one of the world's two great powers, a situation he intended to restore.
The walls of the room were paneled in dark wood, with large, glass fronted bookcases on either side. To the rear of the room stood two flags flanking the double-headed eagle of the Federation, set high on the wall between them. To Orlov's left was a draped window that looked out onto a small garden. Beyond that was a large, bulky television, set on the floor.
An enormous crystal chandelier hung in the center of the room from a curved, high ceiling decorated with beige diamonds outlined in white. The floor was inlaid in two different shades of wood. An elaborate Persian rug covered most of it, extending under the desk. In front of the desk was a smaller table and two wide, wooden armchairs upholstered in antique fabric.
The room was comfortable and intimidating at the same time. There was no doubt that whoever worked in this office was someone with a great deal of power.
Orlov was signing documents as Kerensky strode to the front of the desk and snapped to attention.
"Sit down, General," Orlov said without looking up.
"Thank you, Mister President."
Kerensky sat. He waited for Orlov to finish whatever he was doing. After a few moments Orlov capped his pen and looked up.
The eyes of the president of the Russian Federation were an arctic blue. Blue eyes were not unusual in Russia, but Orlov's were different, as if something cunning and cold were looking out through them and evaluating what it saw. They were the eyes of an alpha predator.
"Well?" Orlov said. "How do you intend to repatriate Colonel Antipova?"
"It will require your specific authorization, Mister President. I have learned that the traitor Antipova will soon be in Croatia, in the company of an American covert unit."
"Croatia, with Americans? Why?"
"I do not know why, Mister President. But I am certain she will be there. They are going to a place on an island called Brac, a ruined building. The Americans will be armed. The only way to repatriate her is to take her by force. I have considered various possibilities. Am I correct in thinking that you require the utmost discretion?"
"You are."
"I have thought of a possibility that has the advantage of discretion and the added bonus of providing needed training and experience for one of our elite units."
"What is your plan?"
"One of our Lada Class submarines is currently in the area. She carries a Naval Infantry unit. With your authorization, I would like to divert her to the Adriatic and Croatia. She can lie off shore and send in a team."
"Which submarine?"
"The Sankt Petersberg."
"Those waters are under control of the European Union and patrolled. If she is detected, it will compromise her mission and create a serious incident."
"The alternative is to wait until Antipova returns to America and try again to assist her in returning home."
"Why are the Americans so interested in this ruin?"
"That is unknown, Mister President. Whatever it is, a high priority has been assigned to this mission. It must be something important."
"What is your assessment regarding the success of your proposal?"
Kerensky was having second thoughts about his idea but it was too late to back down now. There was only one possible answer. If he said there was anything less than a one hundred percent possibility of success, the president would be annoyed. Making Orlov annoyed with you was not a good idea.
"I have every confidence the mission will succeed."
"Very well. You have my authorization."
"Thank you, Mister President."
"Classify everything as Of Special Importance. No one must know about this."
Of Special Importance was the Federation's highest category of secrecy.
"Yes, sir."
"Kerensky."
"Sir?"
"Make sure Antipova is not harmed. I wish to personally interrogate her. I hold you responsible. Do I make myself clear?"
"Perfectly, Mister President."
"Very well. Dismissed."
Kerensky stood and saluted, turned on his heel and left the room, thinking about what Orlov had said regarding Antipova.
I don't think I'd want to be in her boots when Orlov starts asking questions, he thought.
CHAPTER 29
It was late afternoon in Italy. Nick pulled his collar up against a cold wind blowing in from the Adriatic Sea. The sky was overcast, the water gray and uninviting.
Nick, Ronnie, Valentina, and Lamont stood on a private dock at Ancona used by the Italian Navy for some of its smaller boats, away from the main seaport. They were dressed in black gear without any distinguishing markings. They carried MP7s, pistols, extra ammo, and a small combat pack. The pack held a medical kit, C4, detonators, and emergency rations. In addition, Ronnie carried grenades and more C4. An in-helmet radio system allowed them to communicate with each other. They were tied in to Harker and Langley by a satellite system that also let them communicate with the ship.
A hard chop broke against the piers of the dock. They stood looking at their ride.
"Man, that is some kind of boat," Lamont said.
The Ghost was unlike any vessel Nick or the others had ever seen. It looked like something out of a science fiction movie.
"We have nothing like that in Russia," Valentina said.
The ship sat low in the water, but that would change once she was underway. Then she would come up on two narrow pontoons, something like a hydrofoil, but much more efficient. The craft was painted dark gray. It was mostly flat angles, with a split, smoked glass windshield in front. It looked a lot like an F-117 without wings. The borrowed stealth technology was obvious. Nick didn't see any weapons, but that didn't mean they weren't there.
The captain of the craft was a lieutenant commander, a large man with skin as black as coal.
"Which one of you is Carter?" he said.
"That's me."
They shook hands.
"I'm Lieutenant Commander Jackson. Are you the same Carter that kept President Rice from getting blown up in Jerusalem a few years back?"
"Yes."
"In that case, welcome aboard," Jackson said. "That was outstanding. Watch your head going in."
Entrance into the vessel was through the rear of the ship. The interior was dimly lit. Instead of the strap benches often found in military transport, the Ghost had two rows of blue high back seats facing each other across the aisle. There were two small round windows, no more than six inches in diameter. The floor was a metal grill.
Forward on the left was a recess where a sailor sat watching computer monitors. The control console in front looked like something out of an attack helicopter. A petty officer sat at the console, watching more screens and performing pre-checks. The interior was large enough to carry a full combat squad in addition to the crew.
"Classy," Ronnie said.
"Make yourselves comfortable," Jackson said. "Strap yourselves in. It's going to be a little rough out there tonight."
"What makes this thing go?" Lamont asked.
"Two turboshaft engines that put out two thousand horses. The propellers are up forward, in the pontoons. It's a super cavitating hull, efficient as hell. Once we get moving, she'll come up on top of the pontoons and we'll open her up. She's got a gyroscopic stabilizer that will keep us nice and level. We can cut through waves up to ten feet high and still keep nice and stable."