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Red Square

Page 25

by David Archer


  Noah thought through the idea and slowly nodded his head. “You’re thinking of Boris, right? The guy who worked for the prime minister?”

  “Yes. I’ll guarantee you, he’ll do whatever I tell him to do. If I tell him to go to the president and say that the only way he can avoid a scandal over having you all killed secretly is by declaring you all to be heroes of the Russian Federation and issuing a statement that you are continuing to serve good old Mother Russia, he’s going to deliver that message. Feodor is no fool; since we already know that the U.S. ambassador has been crawling up his ass, this gives him a believable backstory on how he learned about the conspiracy and brought it to its knees. I’m telling you, the Russian people would hail him as a hero and the border states would probably join right in. The same ones that are arming their borders right now would be begging for a peaceful partnership with Russia within days, and that would probably save this whole country from falling completely apart right now.”

  Noah looked at her for a long moment and then he took out his phone. When he got Allison on the line, he explained the whole plan and even let Monica take the phone for a few minutes to answer questions. Thirty minutes later, he looked at Neil and said, “Do it.”

  * * * * *

  Boris Petroski woke to the sound of his phone ringing and groggily picked it up and forced his eyes to focus on the screen. The number was one that he recognized, and it brought him instantly awake.

  “Yes?”

  “Boris, I have something for you to do.” The distorted voice he knew so well always sent a shiver down his spine.

  Monica spent almost an hour going over the plan with Boris, and finally had to make him get on his computer and look at the stories that were already circulating around the world. The president was a hero because he had learned about the conspiracy and turned it against itself. The president was told of the conspiracy by a high-ranking official in the prime minister’s office, a man who would remain anonymous despite being greatly rewarded. The infamous “sleeper agents” were of such great importance to the president that he had decided to keep their identities a secret, and they were comfortably placed in positions where they could maintain that anonymity until they were needed again.

  “Now, Boris,” Monica said at last, “do you understand what you must do?”

  “I understand,” he said. “I am simply trying to think of a way to get the president to see me. Everyone in Petrov’s office is under suspension at this time.”

  “Oh, come now, Boris. Someone in the position you held would have a number of people who would prefer you not reveal something you know. Use that to your advantage. Call on those you know who have the ear of the president and tell them that getting you an audience with him will guarantee that you remain their friend from now on. That way, you have not made a threat, but they will understand.”

  Boris hesitated. “Well, yes,” he said cautiously. “There is one man…”

  Five minutes later, Boris made another call. “Vasily,” he said. “This is Boris Petroski. I need your help.” He listened for a moment and then a sly smile stole across his face. “Vasily, all of us have friends, don’t we? Some of us have friends we would prefer not to let others know about. Incidentally, do you know Mr. Wilkerson at the American Embassy?” He listened again and the smile became wider. “And this is why you and I are such good friends, Vasily. There are times when we each need something from the other, is that not correct?” The smile became beatific and Boris closed his eyes in delight as he listened to his friend Vasily. “Vasily, I need to speak with the president, and I need to speak with him right away. I know that you can make this happen, and it will ensure to you my continued friendship—and silence—forever if you do so.”

  * * * * *

  The Gulfstream landed at Kirtland Airport and nine weary travelers disembarked. They made their way across the tarmac to the parking lot, where they all climbed into a big Hummer. One of them was dropped at a hotel, four others were dropped at their own various homes, and then the Hummer made its way to Temple Lake Road and eventually to Noah’s house.

  Two of the four remaining passengers staggered inside the house and made it to the bedroom. They dropped their bags on the floor and stripped out of their clothes, then crawled into the bed and were asleep in seconds.

  The other two drove the Hummer across the yard to Neil’s house trailer and went inside. Like Noah and Sarah, they headed straight to the bedroom, got out of their clothes and lay down. Neil wrapped his arms around Jenny and held her close, kissing her gently once.

  He realized that she was shaking, and he opened his eyes to look at her. Tears were streaming down her face as she looked up at him, and he asked her what was wrong.

  “Nothing,” she said. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong. Actually, everything is absolutely wonderful.”

  Neil’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “Baby, are you okay?”

  Suddenly she wrapped her arms around him and held herself as close as she could. She kissed his cheek several times, then whispered in his ear, “You came after me.”

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  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

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