But he couldn’t dwell on it. Brooding over an unsuccessful mission would get him nowhere. He needed to think about what he could do to rectify the situation.
Maybe Dex will know what to do—if he’s still alive.
Chapter XX
Longyearbyen, Svalbard
THE MEDICAL CENTER wasn’t much on the outside, but it had plenty of expertise contained within its walls. Coal mining companies wanted the best medical care available for their workers toiling away in such dangerous conditions. It was the least the companies could do considering how profitable the mines were on the island.
When Maddux strode through the doors, he inquired about Dex’s status.
“I’m sorry,” the nurse at the front desk said. “What did you say your friend’s name was again?”
“Malcolm—Tom Boggs,” Maddux said, nearly forgetting Dex’s alias.
“Oh, yes, he’s here,” she said. “I thought you said some other name.”
Maddux forced a smile, which she returned.
“And you are?” she asked.
“A friend,” he said. “John Roe.”
“Well, give me a moment, Mr. Roe, and I’ll see if he’s awake to accept any visitors.”
Maddux watched the second hand on the clock tick past. He hated sitting in the waiting room. Staying in a spot that was so out in the open made him nervous. Longyearbyen was governed by Norwegian law. But it was well known that the Russians could get away with just about anything, including murder, without much in the way of consequences. A bullet to the head would mean someone would only have to wheel him down the hall to the island’s only morgue, not that it needed one with the year-round frigid temperatures.
After ten minutes, a nurse appeared in the waiting area.
“Mr. Roe, your friend will see you now,” she said. “Right this way.”
Maddux exhaled as he stood up.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “Everything is okay.”
“No, I just—thanks.”
Maddux followed her down the corridor until they reached a short row of patient rooms. Most patients didn’t stay long before they were shuttled back to the mainland of Norway. Any type of viral diseases led to a near immediate evacuation since such an epidemic posed a serious threat to such a small population. Fortunately, Dex’s injuries weren’t the kind that put anyone else at risk.
“Visits are limited to a half hour,” the nurse said, gesturing for Maddux to enter the room. “Enjoy your time together.”
Dex grimaced as he eased up in the bed.
“So? How did it go?” he asked.
Maddux shook his head and looked down.“I wish I had a better report for you.”
“What happened?” Dex asked, scanning Maddux. “And why are you wearing a Soviet military coat and hat?”
“It’s a long story, one I’ll fill you in on once we get back to Bonn. But the bottom line is I failed. I was just a few feet away about to attach the charge when I got attacked.”
“Under water?”
Maddux nodded. “Apparently someone was checking the hull in preparation for tomorrow morning’s big voyage while I was trying to affix the explosive. The guy came at me with a knife and missed me but nicked my dry suit.”
Dex’s mouth fell agape. “How are you still standing here?”
“I couldn’t make another run at the sub. The guy who came after me was guarding it, and I was starting to sink. I had to drop my weight belt just to get out of the water before it was too late.”
“Good thinking,” Dex said. “You’re going to be a good agent one day, Maddux.”
Maddux cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes.“I swear, Dex, if you weren’t laid up in a hospital bed after getting attacked by a wild animal that nearly tore you limb from limb, I might just punch you in the mouth.”
Dex grinned and winked. “Well, you shouldn’t have to worry about my condition much longer. The doc said I should make a full recovery within a week. Apparently, my injuries looked more dangerous than they really were. Just a few flesh wounds, that’s all.”
“When are they going to discharge you?”
“If everything checks out tonight, I’ll be able to leave first thing in the morning. Then we can catch the noon flight out of here.”
“Glad to hear it,” Maddux said. “I was worried sick about you.”
“Likewise,” Dex said. “I’m actually surprised you’re standing in front of me.”
“What did you think was going to happen?”
“I thought I’d never see you again.”
Maddux was about to respond when he heard boots thundering down the hall. He closed the door and dashed beyond the curtain on the far side of the room. A few seconds later, a Russian soldier entered and scanned the room.
“Do you have any visitors?” he asked in English.
“Nyet,” Dex said.
The soldier looked around once more before closing the door and continuing his search.
“It’s safe now,” Dex said in a whisper.
Maddux peered from around the curtain, eyes wide.
“What did you do to get the Russian military to launch a search party for you?” Dex asked.
Maddux winced. “I may have killed a soldier—or two.”
Dex clenched his jaw and glared at Maddux.“What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking, ‘How am I going to successfully complete this mission?”
Dex sighed. “But killing a couple of Soviet soldiers is only going to enflame tensions between the U.S. and the Soviets.”
“Not if they can’t catch me. They have no idea who I am.”
“What about your passport?”
“I switched it with one of the soldiers I killed, but only after I removed his head and switched clothes with him, hence the groovy Soviet duds.”
“You really are insane.”
“Just trying to survive while stopping a world war. Is that really all that crazy?”
Dex shook his head. “Well, you’ve only succeeded at one of those two things thus far—and even that is still hanging in the balance.”
“I need to get out of here,” Maddux said. “These guards are relentless.”
“Here,” Dex said, reaching for his clothes slung over the side of the bedside chair. “Wear these out of here and grab those reading glasses by the sink. Read the newspaper on your way out, head down all the way.”
“And where should I go?”
“Go see Stump. He seemed like a decent guy. And since Milanovich is gone, maybe Stump can either let you into Milanovich’s place or put you up himself. I believe staying at one of the few boarding houses on the island will definitely get you caught. Too easy to target and then bribe the underpaid clerk at the front desk.”
“I’ll head over to the tavern and return first thing in the morning so we can catch that flight.”
“Be careful,” Dex said.
Maddux nodded before donning Dex’s jacket along with the reading glasses. Grabbing a copy of the morning paper flown in from Oslo, Maddux didn’t look up as he strode through the medical center’s hallways.
Two Soviet soldiers were positioned on opposites sides of the exit, but neither of them uttered a word to Maddux.
He continued his nonchalant pace and walked down the street toward Stump’s Tavern. The hall was filled with customers discussing their previous day, most likely in an attempt to forget about it. Lugging coal out of a mountain in the freezing cold and transporting it across the island didn’t make for the most memorable of days. As Maddux wove through the crowd, he heard more stories reminiscing about life back home.
Maddux scanned the room and noticed several Soviet guards seemed to be interested only in drinking, not in locating a killer on the loose. After finding a safe spot on the bar, Maddux got Stump’s attention.
“John, what are you doing here?” Stump asked.
Maddux placed his index finger to his mouth as he glared at Stump.
“Don’t s
ay my name again,” Maddux said. “There are some men here who are looking for me. Fortunately, I don’t think they’ll recognize me in this get up.”
“What did you do?”
“Let’s not talk about that right now. But I need your help.”
“Anything, my friend. You name it.”
“I need a place to stay tonight so I can avoid these goons.”
“Where’s Milanovich?”
Maddux shook his head. Stump’s eyes widened as his mouth fell agape.
“No,” Stump said. “Please tell me it’s not true.”
“His boat started taking on water in that storm that swept through here, forcing us ashore. My colleague went off in search of some firewood along with Milanovich when they stumbled upon a starving polar bear.”
“But he had his gun, right?” Stump asked, his eyes still wide from disbelief.
Maddux nodded. “Apparently the bear surprised him. Before he could respond, he was mauled. My friend almost suffered the same fate, but he escaped before getting injured too badly. Some other mushers passed by and offered to bring him back to Longyearbyen for medical attention.”
“What about you?”
“I still had business to conduct, unfortunately. I wasn’t present for the attack.”
“But you must’ve done something if all these Soviet soldiers are searching for you.”
Maddux glanced over his shoulder at the guards scattered around the room.
“So, can I stay at your place tonight?” he asked.
Stump added, “Fine. I’ll let you sleep on the couch. It’s not much, but it’s all I’ve got.”
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your hospitality,” Maddux said with a firm handshake.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Maddux grabbed a quick breakfast at a bakery before dashing back to the medical center. Dex was sitting on the edge of the bed and getting dressed when Maddux entered the room.
“Ready to head to the airport?” Maddux asked.
Dex nodded. “I see you successfully avoided the Soviets last night.”
“Stump was more than generous with his accommodations.”
“It’s always good to know somebody,” Dex said.
“Isn’t that the truth. I don’t know how differently things would’ve gone last night had I been forced to sleep at a hotel. But I can almost guarantee you that I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”
“Yet here you are.”
“Let’s get you outta here,” Maddux said. “We need to get moving.”
The ten minute ride to the airport was rather uneventful as was their return trip through customs. While Maddux considered using the dead Russian’s documents to get out of the country, Dex warned against it. He reached into his coat pocket and produced two new passports belonging to separate aliases.
“How did you—” Maddux started to ask.
“Magic, my friend,” Dex replied. “I know how to make magic happen.”
Two hours later, they were on a flight headed for the mainland. The plane soared over Barentsburg as it left the island and banked south.
Maddux leaned against the window and peered down at the activity on the Barentsburg docks. The sub was leaving port with a small gathering on the docks bidding the soldiers farewell.
Maddux shuttered at the thought of what his failure would eventually lead to.
Chapter XXI
Bonn, Germany
MADDUX’S FLIGHT ARRIVED uneventfully and touched down just after 9:00 p.m. He wanted to debrief further with Dex but had to wait until they reached a more secure location. With the botched mission, the Soviet sub was churning toward the U.S. and could sit far enough off the coast to fire nuclear missiles at major cities without even being detected. The only way for the U.S. military to hunt for the attacking vessel would be to comb the Atlantic with naval ships—and even that was a long shot. They needed a real way to locate the ship before it was too late.
After hailing a cab at the airport, Maddux went straight home and crashed. He woke up the next morning and went into his office at Opel. In a meeting with his boss, Maddux reported how Opel had been coopted by the Soviets to deliver parts to the military. Such news irked Maddux’s superiors, who all vowed to throttle back on their relationship with the Russian car manufacturers and decided Maddux would be most suited to deliver the news that such untruthful business dealings would not be tolerated.
“When do you want me to leave?” Maddux asked.
“Tomorrow,” his boss Peter Wilhem replied.
“Tomorrow? It’s a critical time right now for my position with the CIA, and it’s all hands on deck.”
“Figure out a way to meld the two together,” Wilhem said. “We need to let our partners in Russia know that under no uncertain terms is funneling our parts to the Soviet military acceptable. And since you’ve already had so many dealings with them and know the language so well, you’re most suited to deliver that message.”
Maddux nodded. “Okay, have someone make the travel arrangements. I’ll want to leave on the first flight available in the morning. There might be a way I can spin this trip to the CIA and kill two birds with one stone.”
* * *
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Maddux made the short walk down to the CIA station and checked in immediately with Pritchett. Hunched over a stack of papers, he was perusing documents with a furrowed brow.
“Sir,” Maddux said, knocking on the doorjamb before easing into the room.
Pritchett didn’t look up from his work.“Glad you made it back in one piece, Maddux,” he said, still focused on his papers. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to figure out a way to track this Soviet sub, which is the equivalent of finding a needle in a haystack—and do it all before the Russians annihilate our eastern seaboard.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get the job done,” Maddux said. “Things went to hell in a hurry.”
“I know. Dex filled me in.”
“Don’t you want to hear how things happened from my perspective?”
Pritchett finally looked up and stared at Maddux.“What difference does it make now? You were unable to place the charges on the sub, leaving us in a precarious, if not downright dangerous, situation. The only way to stop that sub now is to engage with it in the water and destroy it. And that can be looked at as an act of aggression. It might seem like a small thing, but it would certainly be enough to start a war since it feels like we’re sitting on a powder keg. Once someone strikes a match—boom! It’s all over.”
“Sounds like it’s going to be all over anyway,” Maddux said. “Launching nuclear missiles at us isn’t exactly a way to maintain the peace.”
“But that’s exactly what some factions of the Communist party want. Brezhnev wouldn’t be keen on wading into a global conflict of his own making. Based on intelligence reports we’ve gathered, there is a small cabal that are going behind Brezhnev’s back to start a war.”
“Why not expose this move to Brezhnev?” Maddux asked. “Let him deal with it. What if he knew one of his own subs was charging toward our borders, armed and ready to strike? Wouldn’t he have the power to stop it?”
“He could potentially stop it, but that might create unnecessary turmoil for him. Johnson has insisted that we refrain from alerting Brezhnev and figure out a different way to deal with the problem. Making the situation even more tricky is the fact that if we torpedo this sub in open waters, we will be viewed as the aggressors, leaving Brezhnev with no choice but to retaliate.”
“So, if we can’t sink the sub, how are we supposed to deal with this?”
Pritchett wagged his index finger.“I never said anything about not sinking the sub,” Pritchett said with a wry grin. “I said we can’t torpedo it in open waters.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Well, just like your recent attempt, we didn’t want to fire on the Soviet sub stationed in Barentsburg—just sink it right there in the harbor. Those charges were designed to
puncture the armor and weaken the hull to the point where it collapsed under pressure. And now we also have new technology that the U.S. Navy has been itching to try out in a live combat situation. Instead of firing torpedoes, we shoot these small devices that can’t be picked up on radar that burrow through the hull, ultimately sinking the entire ship. The thing is, it won’t look like an explosive device was responsible. And just like we were trying to do with your mission, the sub will appear to have succumbed to pressure and cracked open. It’ll even make the Soviets question how sound all their subs are built.”
Maddux nodded knowingly. “So, what would stop the Soviets from claiming that we torpedoed their sub anyway?”
“Nothing, but Brezhnev doesn’t want war. If the aggressive segment of the Communist party wanted to make an issue of it, Brezhnev would make them prove it. And if without any evidence of an sort of explosion, Brezhnev would win the argument and maintain status quo.”
“Sounds like a brilliant plan, except for one thing,” Maddux said. “We don’t know where the sub is.”
“Exactly. Now, we do have navigational experts from the U.S. Navy working to plot what would be the most likely course for the Soviet sub. But that’s still only intelligent guesswork at best. Upping the ante on this would be if the Soviets see our ship and view our presence as a sign of aggression. All bets would be off after that—and if there was any type of engagement between the two vessels, it’d mark the beginning of a real conflict.”
Pritchett returned to reading his reports, signaling that the meeting was over. Maddux cleared his throat, refusing to budge.
“I’m not sure what you were thinking, sir, but I have a plan.”
Pritchett dropped his pen and sighed before looking up at Maddux.“What is it now?”
“I’m going to Moscow tomorrow for my job with Opel.”
“And?”
“And I think I know how we can get the information regarding the sub’s location.”
The Man from Leningrad Page 11