“The main fear kids had back then was whether hiding under a wooden school desk would protect us when the Russian planes or ICBMs dropped their nuclear bombs on our neighborhood. As if duck and cover would save anyone. But the Russians never came. We watched kids’ shows full of heroes and imagined ourselves as cowboys, jet pilots, and astronauts. Roy Rogers. Captain Midnight. Colonel Ed McCauley. And we had our music. You know the song “Telstar”? The instrumental?” He hummed a little of it.
“Yes,” Reilly replied, actually wanting to get to Shaw’s assessment. “Love oldies.”
“Well it was named for the first telecommunications satellite. I watched a live broadcast when they threw the switch. 1963. They cut between signals from Mount Rushmore, England, New York, and more. In that one moment, the time between an event and the public’s awareness of it decreased. Telstar told us the world was shrinking. TV ads for nonstop 707 jet service to Europe demonstrated how quickly we could get there in person. That created global opportunities no one could have imagined just a few years earlier. It also brought news of wars home quicker. Vietnam, Granada, and Panama.”
Shaw placed Reilly’s proposal on the coffee table between them.
“Now you have a plan we couldn’t have fathomed a decade ago. It recognizes today’s dangerous world and how we have to conduct business. What did you say when you testified before that crackpot in Washington?”
“Essentially that our business has expanded beyond hospitality. Circumstances dictate that we’re also in the anti-terrorism business.”
“Your plan addresses that quite thoroughly. Has Pat put a dollar figure on it?”
“She’s working on it. But there’s no doubt that it’s going to cost a great deal in IT and security, training, facilities, and travel.”
Shaw checked a note he’d made. “And with all this we don’t derive any public relations or advertising benefit?”
“No, sir. None at all.”
“So bottom line, we develop this plan and the only people who might know are the terrorists?”
“Not completely, people will see enhanced measures. If they’re traveling to danger zones, they’ve already gotten travel warnings from the airlines and State Department advisories. When they walk into our facilities, the visible measures will be in accord with their own expectations. Plus, we’ll have more that aren’t so apparent.”
“I understand that Chris was concerned about certain relationships you and Alan have. And you still want more, according to your testimony.”
Reilly smiled. “Yes and yes.”
“Care to discuss it.”
“Actually, no. You’ve hired us to deal with information and advise you. Best we leave it at that.”
Reilly intentionally stayed with the we. It was his own cover.
“If we ever feel the need to share anything specific,” he continued, “we’ll give you the opportunity to decline.”
“Is this my Senior VP of International speaking? Sounds like some other experience is coming through.”
“Just putting you first,” Reilly offered.
“You sure that’s it, Dan?”
“As long as it works for you,” Reilly added without expression.
Whatever Shaw might have been thinking, he dropped it. “Give me a few days to circle around to the team. We’ll talk after.”
“Absolutely,” Reilly said.
He stood ready to leave.
“Wait, Dan. Before you go, let’s debrief on Tehran, and I have another meeting for you.”
“Where?”
“Where is only part of it. It’s the who that’s really interesting.”
KIEV
One more night at the Klovska Classic Hotel. Miklos wanted to confirm that the shift changes were correct and deliveries remained unchecked and stored.
As Karl Richter, he walked freely throughout the building, amazed by the lax security from both a technical and personnel perspective. This made a hard job easier, but by no means anything to take for granted.
While strolling, Miklos recalled the days of Soviet oversight. There was an order to life. Everything in its place. Everyone understanding his purpose. Then came the unraveling. Order replaced by disorder. In place of a system that worked, a rush for personal material gains. This brought forth the oligarchs, the nouveau riche capitalists who nearly ruined the Motherland.
What would life have been like if there had been a different outcome in Potsdam? By that he meant, what would have happened had Nikolai Gorshkov not been reborn with the resolve to return Russia to greatness. Andre Miklos would die for his commander. Yes, he’d earned millions to retire on, but everything he did, he did out of loyalty. He believed in the greater good. Russia deserved to reclaim its rightful place as the dominant world leader.
CHICAGO
Shaw called in Alan Cannon and Chris Collins for the rest of the meeting.
“Are the Iranians committed to what it will take to build?” Shaw asked.
Reilly laughed. “They use gold and marble like it grows on trees. But American tourists are still reluctant to go. Too many unknowns.”
“Let’s find out,” Shaw said. “We’ll set up focus groups with multiple sessions in each city.”
“I think they’ll reaffirm what we already know,” said Reilly. “If anything, we should evaluate the business market. Commission a couple of independent, confidential surveys through The Wall Street Journal and Forbes. They’ve already done stories on tech and textile firms that have feelers out to Tehran. Textiles, in fact, is Iran’s number two export. They see US importers as potential partners. So, if the US corporations are willing to go, they might feel more comfortable staying in a hotel managed by an American brand.”
“What’s Europe doing?” Shaw wondered.
“Different history, different strategy,” Reilly explained. “They’re jumping at the opportunity. France in particular. Their attitude is if you snooze, you lose. We’re different. There’s deep distrust and potential political fallout.”
“We turned Vietnam around,” Collins offered.
“Yes,” Reilly replied. “But it took decades. We’re not at the same place with Iran.”
“Dan’s right,” Cannon said. “You can’t draw a comparison.”
“Okay. Stand pat and get the data,” Shaw instructed. “But, Dan, keep polite dialogue going. Now to the next item, and why I want all three of you here.”
Reilly noticed that Chris had opened a file. Whatever the agenda, he was on the inside.
“Moscow,” said Shaw. “It’s back on.”
Cannon reacted first. “Come on boss, we’ve taken this off the table twice already.”
“I know, but there’s an extra dimension with some high-level participation.”
“But the Russian market is iffy,” Cannon protested. “The West hasn’t let up on all the sanctions. Besides, we’d need an investment company or a sovereign fund willing to commit.”
“I may have someone,” Reilly said.
“Oh?” Collins inquired.
Reilly briefed them on the Barclays executive he’d met in Tehran.
“Possibly,” Shaw replied.
“No,” Cannon said. “Not a good idea. “I don’t trust the Russians.”
“Just hear it out,” Shaw said. “We have a specific opportunity, and Chris has some numbers that Brodowski ran.”
“The Moscow Excelsior Hotel is going to come on the market,” Collins began.
“To buy?” Reilly interrupted.
“To manage with an option,” the lawyer relayed.
“It’s a shitty property. It needs a fortune to bring it up,” Reilly argued.
“Yes, at least 150 million, from soup to nuts, for the 300 rooms,” Collins noted.
“Have you been there?”
“No.”
“Better count on 300 million before all’s said and done,” Reilly said, correcting the lawyer. “I doubt any lender would …”
“Dan, much less,” Shaw interj
ected. “Word is Russia is talking with China on multiple levels. New money may be coming into the country. They could potentially underwrite part of the investment. And they want us.”
“Maybe so, but I’d wait for at least another year. We need to put our energies into our security plan.”
“Agreed,” Cannon said. “We should have one focus right now.”
“I appreciate your thoughts, gentlemen, but we can do more than one thing at a time. President Gorshkov announced he’s holding an economic development summit that starts with a state reception. I received a call from the state minister myself. And Dan, I said you’d show and consider the opportunity. Alan and Chris can carry on here with the security assessment.”
“Edward—” Reilly began, realized it was a done deal, and stopped.
“Meet, be nice. Make friends.”
“Come on. This isn’t like an M&E or management arrangement here,” Reilly argued. “Everyone’s on the take in Russia. Hell, you can’t make a business deal in Russia without cutting a side deal with the mayor. He’ll demand 5 percent of all hotel receipts. That’s how it works there. You’d never approve it. I sure as hell wouldn’t recommend it to you. Besides, it violates America’s Foreign Corrupt Practices Act.”
“Dan’s right,” Collins said. “No businesses can make or pay bribes to a governmental agency. You saw what happened when one US hotel corporation was caught. Big fine and their stocks fell.”
Reilly cut back in. “If we’re even thinking of doing business in Moscow, I’ll have to meet with the mayor and—”
“Meet with the mayor,” Shaw said declaratively.
Reilly blanched. “I was speaking rhetorically.”
“And I’m serious.”
“Sir, with all due respect, he’s corrupt in a corrupt system.”
“You give him the message, maybe it’ll work its way upstairs. Besides, you might have the opportunity for the message to go top-down.”
“I don’t understand,” Reilly responded.
“The session kicks off with a reception. Tell it to Gorshkov yourself.” Shaw smiled.
Cannon broke in. “You’re kidding?”
“Nope. Great opportunity.”
“And what the hell do I say to him?”
“On behalf of Kensington Royal, I’m honored to meet you, Mr. President. But I have a concern …”
KIEV
Sex was for sale everywhere in Kiev, a by-product of the fall of Communism. Once Russia seized all of Ukraine, the business would become a tool of the state, as it had been under the KGB. After all, sex was a means to secure information, recruit operatives, and blackmail enemies. However, for now, it was simply available, and Andre Miklos had the money to get what he wanted. Anything he wanted was sitting at the Klovska Classic bar.
Officially prostitution was forbidden in Kiev, but police looked the other way as long as the hooker didn’t appear to be underage. Of course, that only made child prostitution all the more exciting. Though Miklos found that idea intriguing, he wanted someone as experienced and talented in her profession as he was in his.
The prostitutes began assembling every night after nine. The real beauties arrived later. Despite Miklos’ desire to live on the edge, he never took chances. Ever. He’d play it safe. In fact, the hotel helped. The Klovska Classic, soon to be out of service, thoughtfully stocked condoms in each room free of charge.
“Hello,” he said, in character with his German accent. The tall blonde smiled. Minutes later she smiled more in his room when he counted 51,000 hryvnia out onto the bed, about 2,000 US dollars. She was really going to work hard tonight.
31
WASHINGTON, DC
THE WHITE HOUSE
“Let’s have it, Gerald,” said the president.
This intelligence briefing could shape American policy in Europe. The topic was Russia. President Alexander Crowe expected his newest CIA director, Gerald Watts, to be brutally blunt. He counted on Pierce Kimball, his national security advisor, to be direct as well. Secretary of State Elizabeth Matthews, the most plugged-in, would remain cautious. Meanwhile, General Jeffrey Jones, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, would undoubtedly advocate for the strongest possible military presence.
President Crowe was a moderate Republican in a polarized world; a veteran who had served under a ready, fire, aim president. He vowed not to do the same.
The president was known and lampooned for wearing turtlenecks and T-shirts with sports jackets. He wasn’t conservative money’s first choice, but the first choice was unelectable on a national scale, so the party intervened in a heated convention. Crowe, a Colorado governor and chairman of the Republican Governors Association, brokered the debate, then agreed to run. Now well into his first term, he governed with that same sense of reluctance—acting tough when absolutely necessary, avoiding confrontation whenever possible, but often surprising those in his own inner circle.
Director Watts began. “Gorshkov, Mr. President. His annexation of Crimea in 2014. His ongoing support for pro-Russian separatists in Ukraine, his seeding of anti-NATO opposition in Poland, Czechoslovakia, and Hungary. It’s a pattern.”
The lanky intelligence chief, a former Boston chief of police, looked the president squarely in the eyes. “He’s increased submarine patrols in the North Sea, the Pacific, and even off the coast of Martha’s Vineyard, for God’s sake. He’s tested western border weaknesses with helicopter flyovers. Quick ins and outs. It’s unsettled former Eastern Bloc nations, NATO members, our allies.”
Elizabeth Matthews amplified the point. “They’re asking for more protection. More protection they say, while there’s still time.”
“Time?” the president asked.
“Time before the Kremlin makes its next move,” she stated unequivocally.
“Mr. President,” General Jones added, “our allies will only be our allies as long as they are still under NATO protection. There’s growing concern that neither NATO nor the US will be there if and when they are needed.”
“That’s absurd,” the president responded.
“Are you so sure?”
“What did we do for Georgia? For Eastern Ukraine? Turkey?” Jones continued. “We’re losing their trust.”
“Jesus. We could just as easily become the provocateur. A justification for Gorshkov.”
“Yes we could, Mr. President. But a capital increase, not an increase in a military presence, would underscore our support,” Secretary Matthews maintained.
“Ridiculous,” Jones countered with emphasis on the us.
“Hold it, General,” the president interrupted. “They’re in Elizabeth’s ear. What are they saying?”
“Money, sir. Four times what we’re spending annually to date. It raises the threat, but not the way that troops would be seen.”
Now the president pivoted. “Money and troop exercises? I’ve met the man. He’ll consider anything as an escalation. So we better be prepared.”
“Mr. President—” Matthews began to argue.
“Steps, Elizabeth,” the president continued. “Nothing dramatic. We set up a new chessboard. We establish the agenda for the upcoming NATO summit and leak the proposals.”
“Poland and the Baltic nations will want more than gamesmanship,” General Jones argued. “Deterrence, Mr. President. Visible. Unmistakable. I recommend that we preposition equipment and troops in Central and Eastern Europe. It’ll send a clear message of determination.”
“Jeffrey, we’re in compliance with the NATO-Russia Founding Act of 1997. That’s where we stay. Troops rotate according to the agreement. It’ll work for now. Pierce, are you in accord?” President Crowe asked, turning to his national security advisor.
“I’m with Secretary Matthews. For years both sides have stood by the promise not to station large numbers of troops at borders shared by members of NATO and Russia,” Pierce Kimball explained. “If we add troops, Gorshkov will do the same. He’ll meet your escalation, and you’d be jeopardizing the status quo. A
nd right now, the status quo works.”
“I disagree,” Jones stated. “The Polish leaders believe that Russia’s aggressions have already violated the 1997 accord. They need our help, and so do the other nations in the region.”
“Is that true, Elizabeth?”
“Yes, substantively, Mr. President. But to acquiesce, to station more permanent troops, will be viewed as intimidation at best and a threat at worst.”
“I understand that,” the president said, letting his displeasure show. “But right-wing factions are taking more seats in the ministry, and not just in Poland. They’ve made the deployment of NATO troops a battle cry.”
“Yes, but a battle with the Russians?” Matthews put in. “Think about it. Do you really want to provoke Gorshkov, Mr. President?”
Crowe did not immediately speak. National Security Advisor Pierce Kimball did.
“Have Secretary Matthews take your proposal to NATO,” he said. “Float the idea. The Russians may publicly bark, but we’ll state that our policy is to resupply and update equipment. As far as troops, we conduct routine training exercises as we’ve always done. At established troop strength,” he added. “Nothing that would escalate or inflame. We move some of the pawns around on the board.”
“All well and good until we discover that we’ve lost our knights and put our queen and king in jeopardy,” barked General Jones.
President Crowe stood, signaling the end of the meeting.
“Thank you everyone. I’ll get back to you in due time.”
32
BUCHAREST, ROMANIA
APRIL 4, 2008
Nikolai Gorshkov, a senior member of the current president’s inner circle, wearing a black suit and a black and white striped tie, faced the press following the NATO-Russia Council held at the Palace of the Parliament. Reporters were there to score good quotes, but they got more than that. Gorshkov bluntly expressed his view that NATO’s influence over Russia’s former satellites seriously threatened mutual trust, which was rapidly a diminishing commodity.
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