by David Archer
“Sarah, she’s right,” Neil said. “If we do this the right way, it buys us more time. It will put off the execution for at least several days, maybe as much as months, and that means they won’t be stressing over it. No stress, less security.”
“Okay, I'm starting to get it,” Sarah said. “If we can lower the security on them, we stand a better chance of being able to rescue them, right?”
“Absolutely,” Monica said. She turned to Neil. “Can you create some kind of convincing documentation that makes them some sort of Russian agents?”
“Damn right,” Neil said. “Amerigrad. There's an old conspiracy theory that says the Russians ran a school back in the eighties to train secret agents to act like regular Americans. They even based a TV show on it a while back, and there were some actual spies like them arrested in 2013. Everybody thought they were Americans, but they were really Russian deep cover agents. In that arrest, they picked up ten of them, but what if there were more? I can create some documentation that could indicate that all of us, both Cinderella and Camelot, are actually Russian agents who infiltrated the U.S. for the express purpose of creating a problem between the two countries. This whole assassination of Kalashnikov was nothing more than a way for Russia to get away with starting a new Cold War. Make sense?”
Sarah’s mouth was partly open as she stared at him. “No,” she said, “but I'm not the genius here, you are. As long as it makes sense to you, I'm good with it.” She turned to Monica. “What he was saying, will that fit into what you got in mind?”
“Hell, yes,” Monica said. “It fits perfectly, because there have been rumors of an underground organization that wants to bring back the Soviet Union for years, now. We can play on those rumors with this and make it even more believable. Get on it, Neil, I need as much as you can give me by tomorrow morning. I've got newspaper and TV reporters in five countries that I can send this to and make them run the story, and I can get an uproar started in the UN by tomorrow night. This is it, kids, this is how we buy ourselves more time and force the Russians to make a mistake we can use against them.”
Sarah chewed her bottom lip. “I just wish there was some way to let Noah in on this,” she said. “For all we know, he could ruin it if they start questioning him about whatever we put out there.”
Monica looked at her thoughtfully. “You have a point,” she said. She reached into her bag and took out a pair of cell phones, then dropped one of them back into it. The other was quickly dialed, and she held up a finger to tell both of them be quiet for a moment.
“I have a job for you,” she said to whoever answered. “I'm very interested in the alleged American spies that are being held in Lefortovo prison. Can you arrange to see them?”
She listened for a moment, then grinned. “I'm going to have a package delivered to you today. Inside, you'll find a number of sealed envelopes. I want you to visit these spies and give one to each of them secretly. Do not try to read the notes inside. I'll know if you do, and you don’t want that.” She listened again. “Your position gives you all the authority you need. No one in the FSB is going to be stupid enough to question you, or to check whether you actually have permission to visit them. Is this too difficult for you? Good, because I would not like to think that you're no longer of use to me.”
She disconnected and dropped the phone back into her purse, then turned to Neil. “Write up a very brief description of the plan and make a total of six copies. The man I just spoke to is a crisis advisor in the president’s office who was stupid enough to allow me to get video of him indulging a rather perverted fantasy. He’s exactly the type of man who might be sent to speak to captured spies on the president’s behalf, and he doesn’t dare refuse to do what I want. As soon as you get them ready, Sarah and I will take a drive. We’ll need to pick up some envelopes, and then we’ll hire a courier service to deliver them to him as soon as possible.”
* * * * *
Donald Jefferson entered Allison’s office and sat down in the chair in front of her desk. “So far, we can’t find any trace of them. They seem to have gone completely off the grid.”
“Well, crap,” Allison said. “They surely don’t have any money. Aren’t they using the credit cards we gave them?”
Jefferson shook his head. “I've had accounting watch those cards, and there have been no new charges on them. Not so much as an ATM withdrawal. Their phones seem to be malfunctioning, too, or else they just turned them completely off. There are no new calls on them and any attempt to call them goes straight to voicemail.”
“It's Neil,” Allison said. “He is more loyal to Sarah than he is to us. In some cases, I might consider that admirable, but at the moment all it is is a pain in my ass.” She threw the pencil she was holding across the room and Jefferson turned his head to watch it bounce off the wall. “Donald, dammit, I would never have believed that Sarah would pull this. There’s no way in the world she and Neil are going to be able to pull off a rescue like this, all they’re going to do is get themselves killed.”
Jefferson shrugged. “That might be exactly what they're trying to do. Sarah wouldn’t want to live without Noah, and Neil is just as attached to Jenny. I think they would rather die with them in a suicide mission than live without them.”
“You may be right. Maybe I was an idiot to allow the teams to have romantic relationships.”
“I don’t think so,” Jefferson said. “In many ways, Team Camelot has come out much stronger since Noah and Sarah became a couple, and even more so since they were married. Jenny has become a bit more manageable since she has been with Neil, as well.”
“What good does that do us, if we end up losing them all?” She started to say something else, but the phone on her desk rang suddenly. She snatched up the receiver. “Yes?”
Her eyes suddenly went wide as she listened to whoever had called. “Well I'll be… Get down here, would you?” She hung up the phone without waiting for a response.
A moment later, Molly Hansen came into the office and took the chair beside Jefferson. Allison looked at her and smiled. “Tell Donald what you just told me on the phone.”
Molly turned to Jefferson, her own face solemn. “I went to our monitor server to download the latest reports from Monica Lord’s monitor implant,” she said, “but there was nothing there. Everything since the last download two days ago is completely gone, and the system has been shut off. I tried to turn it back on, but the code has been rewritten. It will take me at least a few days to find the changes and correct them.”
Donald stared at her for a moment, then turned to Allison. “They’ve recruited her,” he said. “Do we have any idea where she is?”
Molly shook her head. “Her JetBlue account was activated yesterday, and she took a flight to New York City, but that's where we lost her. God only knows how many other identities she has, so without us watching over her shoulder, she could be absolutely anywhere.”
“She is in Moscow, you can count on it.” Allison was grinning. “Neil is probably the only one who could possibly have shut down her monitor well enough that you can’t fix it. Sarah must’ve asked him to do it, so that she could recruit Monica to help in the rescue.”
“And Monica still has all of her puppets in place. Allison, they might just pull this off after all.”
Allison nodded. “They might. I just wish I knew what the hell it is they're trying to do.” She turned to Molly. “Have you checked for activity on Monica’s phone?”
“I did. It last registered a GPS location in New York, so I'm assuming she turned it off and took the battery out after that.”
“Smart girl. Besides, she undoubtedly has several more phones. She’s not going to let herself be unable to communicate with her assets.” Allison leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers. “Donald, for once, I think I'm going to sit back and do nothing. These kids have the best chance to save Noah and Jenny, so let’s see what they can do. Things certainly can’t get any worse than they already are
.”
Molly bit her lip. “If you honestly think Monica is in Moscow helping Sarah and Neil, then I would suggest we keep a close eye on what’s happening in Russia. I'm going to set some people to watching news stories related to our people who were arrested, but also to watching anything else that seems to be affecting the situation.” She got to her feet. “May I go?”
Allison waved at her. “Go, get on it. Anything else you can think of, do it. We need to be as aware as possible of what they're up to, and if we can help in any way, then let’s make it so.” She shook her head as Molly left the room and looked at Jefferson. “Why the hell didn’t I think of trying to recruit Monica for this? Geez, Donald, am I getting old?”
“You’d better not be,” he said. “I got ten years on you, and I don’t feel all that old.”
She looked at him for a long moment, then sat forward again. “Donald, those kids may need some serious firepower before this is over. Any idea who might be close enough to do them some good, somebody who won’t turn this into a war?”
Jefferson sat and thought for a moment. “There’s nobody actually in Russia,” he said. “There's McDermott in Hong Kong, he’s our station chief there, and there’s Greystone in Belarus. Both of them are private security companies that make up their own small armies. McDermott is ours, and Greystone is tied to the CIA. We could probably get at least a couple of squads out of either of them.”
“Get on the horn and find out if either of them has any Russian nationals on their teams. I would really prefer to have any casualties be locals. McDermott, McDermott—didn’t Noah work with him once before?”
Jefferson grinned. “It was McDermott’s plane that he stole, remember?”
“Yes, I remember now. He sent a squad to help Noah recover Sarah. Get hold of both groups, see what you can put together and how quickly they can get to Moscow.”
“Okay, but you’ve still got the problem of not knowing how to get hold of Sarah and Neil.”
“You think so? Neil has so many ways a message can get to him that he couldn’t possibly miss them all. Once we have some idea of what they're up to and how we can help, I'm pretty sure I can get him to respond. You just take care of finding out what assets we can provide without going through any official channels. Let me handle these upstart kids. Trust me, mama knows how to spank if necessary.”
* * * * *
Boris Petroski looked up as the courier tapped on his office door. “Come,” he said in Russian, and the young man stepped inside and passed him a small package. He tipped the courier a thousand rubles, and the young man smiled as he turned to leave.
The package, really just a thick envelope, went into his pocket. Ten minutes later, he stood and told his secretary that he had a matter to attend to and left. He went to the car park and got his car, then drove calmly but quickly out to Lefortovo prison.
It took only a moment for the prison staff to lead him to the meeting room, where prisoners were brought to be interviewed by ranking officials. As a senior clerk and advisor to the president, no one was about to question his appearance there, or in any way impede his desire to speak with the American spies. They even went so far as to let him see them remove the microphones from the room, ensuring that he would have absolute privacy.
The first of the spies was brought to him only a moment later. Introduced as Jack Stewart, this man was obviously in considerable pain. Boris waited until he was seated and his escort had left the room, then smiled at him.
“I see you've experienced Lefortovo’s hospitality,” he said.
Randy grunted. “Is that what they call it? What do you want?”
Boris reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out the package. He had already torn it open and seen that there were several envelopes inside, just as he had been told there would be. He extracted one and handed it to Randy.
“Open it and read it, and then destroy it. I would personally suggest eating it, since I know they examine what gets flushed in your toilets.”
Randy’s eyes narrowed but he opened the envelope. Inside was a small sheet of paper that contained a single paragraph.
Friends on outside working on rescue. Steps being taken to convince world press that you're all Russian agents-provocateurs. Your mission was to create a new Cold War. Be prepared for sudden rescue.
Randy read the message several times, then crumpled it up and stuck it in his mouth. The paper was not very big, so he only had to chew for a few seconds to get it wet enough to slide down his throat. The envelope, now empty, he slid back across the table to Boris.
“I do not know what it said,” Boris told him, “and I do not wish to know. If you're questioned about my visit, say only that I wanted to ensure you're being treated humanely, and that you assured me this is the case. Do you understand?”
Randy nodded. “No problem,” he said.
Boris called the guard, and Randy was taken away. A moment later Jenny was brought into the room, and the entire process was repeated. Jenny was followed by Jim Marino, then Dave Lange, and Noah was brought into the room next. Like the rest, he read the message and chewed up the paper, then was escorted back to his cell. Marco was next, and then VanHorn.
VanHorn, out of all of them, was the only one who seemed completely confused by the message, but he did not hesitate to swallow it. When he was gone, the guards told Boris that he was the last. Boris thanked them and left the prison, grateful to be putting the place behind him.
Noah and Marco discussed the message in code, and Marco relayed comments back and forth between Jim and Noah. They agreed that the “friends outside” must refer to Sarah and Neil, and Noah was personally convinced that they must have successfully recruited Monica. She was probably the only person Noah could think of who would be capable of getting a message to them inside the prison, and he wondered briefly just who the visitor had been.
CHAPTER TEN
Peter McDermott was locking up his office when his phone rang, and he recognized the call as coming from Neverland. “Peter McDermott,” he said.
“Peter, this is Donald Jefferson. How have you been?”
“Not too bad, Don. Been a while since I've talked to you, everything going okay back home?”
“Oh, you know, problems crop up every now and then and there’s not much you can do about it. Am I calling at a bad time?”
“No, not at all. I was actually just leaving the office, so I'm all by my lonesome and headed for my car. What can I do for you?”
‘All by my lonesome’ was a code phrase that meant the line was completely secure on McDermott’s end. “I've got a situation,” Jefferson said. “You heard about our team being captured in Russia?”
“Yeah, that was bad. Any new developments?”
“In a way. Do you remember Camelot?”
“Ha! Like I could ever forget. I had more fun that week than I've had in the past five years. What’s he up to, nowadays?”
“He went into Moscow to set up a rescue mission, but it wasn’t going according to plan. Somehow, he and one of his team were also arrested, and they're also scheduled for execution day after tomorrow. Do you remember the young woman you helped him rescue?”
“Sarah, sure. She okay?”
“As far as I know, she is. She and Camelot were married not long after that rescue, and she is currently off the reservation in Moscow and using non-sanctioned assets to set up a rescue mission of her own. I'm calling to see if you might have some people we could borrow, if she needs them. Specifically, I need to know if you have any Russian nationals among your teams.”
“I've got eight Russians,” McDermott said, “and five of them are former Spetsnaz, Russian special forces. Well, I say they're Russians, but I think they're each actually from one of the former Soviet countries. I doubt any of them have any real love for Mother Russia, so they probably would be exactly what you need. You thinking of making this a military operation?”
“Possibly, as long as we can keep it non-politic
al. Any of these people likely to be on Russian watchlists?”
“Not under the identities they're using at the moment. Like I said, they're not exactly children of the motherland. The main reason I've gotten them is because they got fed up with the way things are done back home. How soon do you need them?”
“Well, I may not need them at all, but I would prefer to have them available if I do. How soon can you get them to Moscow, and what about weapons and equipment?”
“If I call them tonight, they can be in Moscow before morning. I’ve got contacts there that can provide them with weapons and anything else they need, including a place to sit tight until you need them. Say the word, and I'll make it happen.”
“Word,” Jefferson said. “Get them over there and send me the bills. I'll let you know if I need to put them to work.”
“You got it.” McDermott disconnected the call and immediately started dialing other numbers. A half-hour later, he had a squad of ten men, including all but one of the Russians, packing and getting ready to head for Moscow.
* * * * *
“I think this is ready,” Neil said. “What I did was take everything I know about our team members and dug up some orphaned young Russians who died from various accidents and illnesses at least five years ago. I managed to get into every conceivable database and make some minor changes in the reports about their deaths, then created files on them that make it appear they were actually trained to pose as Americans. In those files, I even have records of how they were smuggled into the United States and placed into communities. Each of them would have been at least eighteen at the time, so I didn’t have to worry about getting them families or anything like that.”
Monica nodded. It was almost midnight and she was extremely tired, but there was an excitement about being so deeply involved in a mission like this. She had missed the freedom of working without someone looking over her shoulder, and was thoroughly enjoying working with Sarah and Neil.