by Peter Kozmar
“The work on your apartment isn’t complete as we weren’t expecting you back so soon. I’m afraid it’s a bit of a mess.” The chauffeur closed the door behind Andy and climbed into the front.
“It couldn’t be any worse than when I left it,” Andy replied smiling grimly in the rear view mirror. The chauffeur returned a glum look in sympathy before starting the vehicle and driving away from the airfield. Within minutes they were on the I495 catching the tail-end of the morning rush hour. They were soon threading through the busy streets leading to his apartment.
“Do you mind if we take a detour?” Andy asked, realising he still had the money Dortman had given him.
“Sure, where do you want to go?”
“11th and U Street. I need to go to the bank.”
“No problem, sir.”
Andy wanted to pay some of his more immediate debts to keep a roof over his head, his car on the drive and unfreeze his credit card. When the BMW pulled up outside Andy’s bank the chauffeur got out to open the door. “I can’t wait here so I’ll drive around the block and pick you up when you are ready to leave,” he informed Andy.
“That’ll be great, thank you,” Andy replied as he climbed out of the car clutching his backpack. The BMW pulled out and disappeared amongst the mid-town traffic.
Andy struggled to conceal his surprise when the teller informed him that all his accounts were up to date having been paid by wire transfers from Switzerland with the reference: T Dortman. Andy deposited the fifteen thousand into his check account to keep him afloat for a few more weeks.
As promised the BMW glided next to the sidewalk as soon as Andy stepped out of the bank. “Where next, sir?” the chauffeur asked once Andy was seated.
“Home. Please.”
***
It didn’t take long for them to reach Andy’s apartment where they found a small fleet of vans parked outside. The chauffeur pulled alongside the sidewalk a short distance from front entrance. Andy watched as a variety of tradesmen entered and came out of his apartment wondering what they’d had to do to get the place to Dortman’s, no doubt exacting, standards.
The chauffeur looked up into the rear view mirror and saw Andy watching the action in front of them. “Maybe you want to check into a hotel for a few nights? I know a few good places,” he suggested helpfully.
“I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse,” Andy replied reticently. Before he could reconsider, the chauffeur had jumped out of the car and opened Andy’s door. While thanking him, Andy noticed a large black SUV with Government plates parked a discrete distance away, its occupants also watching his apartment.
CHAPTER 5
Andy entered his apartment and turned in time to observe the rear door of the SUV open and a figure, in a crumpled dark suit, emerge. The G-man’s suit wasn’t tailored to hide the bulk of a shoulder holster and weapon. Chuck Boston. What’s he doing here? Andy relaxed slightly, he knew Chuck from his time at the Agency.
Crossing the street towards him, Andy could see Boston wore at least a day’s worth of stubble and looked as though he’d spent several long hours sat in the car waiting for Andy to appear. Andy quickly placed the backpack and overcoat in his apartment. When he looked around, he couldn’t help notice the changes they’d made to his apartment. It looked sparse and impersonal with most of his possessions missing and his kitchen ripped out. The workmen were in the process of plastering the walls. The place did look like a building site. I should have checked into that hotel!
He hadn’t time to look around as he stepped back outside to meet Chuck. Chuck approached smiling broadly with a flash of his perfect teeth, but the look in his eyes betrayed his friendly demeanour as he continuously scanned Andy. Andy offered a firm handshake and a confident smile, “What brings you all the way out here after all these years?”
Chuck shrugged his shoulders and pointed to the SUV. “I was in the neighbourhood and passing by,” he lowered his voice conspiratorially, “can we go inside?”
“I’d rather not,” Andy gestured behind him to the, now, closed door of his apartment, “I’m having some work done on the place. It needed modernizing.”
“You don’t do things by halves, Andy, is it a big job?”
“Yeah! A lot needed to be done to the place. I’m not into the renovation thing myself so I brought in the professionals.”
Chuck looked back at the SUV. “Let’s take a walk?” he suggested.
The two men set off in the direction of the SUV. The driver maintained his fixed stare into the distance and ignored the two men as they walked past. Andy regretted leaving his overcoat in his apartment as the chill started to bite.
“It’s been quite some time, what’s been going on with you?” Andy asked.
“After you left I saw the Russian desk wasn’t for me, I transferred to the Middle Eastern desk. Since Nine Eleven it’s where all of the funding went. We could see that at the time and it’s been one wild ride ever since. It’s been worth it. How are things with you?” Chuck enquired.
“I’ll not bullshit you. It’s been tough since leaving the Agency. My wife took the kids and now I’m divorced. I’m managing to pay my bills with freelance writing and some private work. As time goes on, maintaining contacts gets harder unless I travel, and travel is expensive.”
Chuck walked on, allowing a silence to fall between them.
This isn’t a social visit. Chuck’s never been to my home before, what the hell does he want?
“If you’re looking for some work, we might have something for you,” Chuck slowly revealed his hand, “something’s come up in Russia and we need someone independent of the Agency to go and find out what’s going on.”
“You’re offering an independent contract, not part of the Agency?”
“That’s all I’ve got for you at the moment. It’s the best I could do. Being independent, means I can pay you top dollar for your expertise without being restricted by our pay bands and all that HR policy stuff. We’ll pay for travel, accommodation and all expenses. You should take it. I think it’s a pretty good deal. It gives you the opportunity to reconnect with your old networks.”
Andy thought for a moment, “Any chance I can come back into the fold?”
Chuck shrugged, “That can only come from Director Hobbs and I don’t think she’s ready to welcome you back just yet. If you prove yourself again, who knows? It’s your best shot at getting back in. She wants to meet with you to discuss the assignment. If you’re interested, I’ll take you to her.”
Andy felt torn. He had a week before his court case and an old friend who had been kidnapped and needed his help. Chuck mentioned Russia, travel, reconnecting with my old networks and a slim chance to get back into the Agency. He had to make a decision and quickly, he felt light headed for several seconds. Andy looked across the road towards his apartment, then stopped and turned to Chuck: “Sure. Count me in.”
***
A wave of conflicting emotions washed over Andy as they drove to Langley. He felt nervous and apprehensive at the same time as to what lay ahead. It reminded him of his younger years and the feeling of first date jitters.
During the journey Chuck offered no further details about the potential assignment. Instead he spent most of the time talking about his time on the ground in Afghanistan and Iraq where he’d directed operations against an ever-growing number of insurgent groups. Andy wasn’t surprised to learn that Chuck didn’t speak a word of Arabic or Pashto and he’d never stepped foot outside of their heavily protected compounds.
Arriving at Langley, Andy didn’t feel any better when asked to sign in as a visitor and have his headshot taken at one of the security checkpoints. He hoped the humiliation of being handed a bright red visitor ID, which had to be worn at all times like a badge of shame, would be worth the embarrassment. The badge showed he wasn’t an employee of the Agency or a security cleared contractor. It showed to everyone who looked, that he wasn’t to be trusted and no classified conversations could take p
lace within his earshot. Sucks to be me!
Andy felt another bout of humiliation when he had to surrender his battered old cell phone to the security guard, as it couldn’t travel beyond the checkpoint. Chuck, on the other hand, walked through with his Government issued phone, no questions asked. He guided Andy to one of the meeting rooms on the south side of the building where Director Hobbs was already waiting for him.
Helen Hobbs had always been a bright star. Being recognized early, she rose quickly through the ranks of the Agency. Her sharp mind and no-nonsense approach achieved results, it won her friends and enemies alike; over time Andy had fallen into the latter group.
Hobbs didn’t rise from her chair when Andy entered the room. He offered his hand, which she ignored, gesturing with her pen to a seat opposite her. This isn’t what I expect from someone keen to engage me … almost as cold as Ana! Andy withdrew his hand and sat as directed. She glared at him, “You know the idea of you working for the Agency is as appealing as the thought of a rat pissing on my meal before I eat it?” Mmmh … you do hold grudges for a long time.
He almost smiled, but controlled himself as he didn’t want to make this his last visit to Langley, so replied calmly, “I take it you didn’t invite me here to offer me a permanent role?”
“I don’t even want you here as a contractor!” Hobbs turned to Chuck and used her pen to point to the door. Chuck left the room and closed the door behind him. “I have a problem and, unfortunately, you’re the best person to solve it. You need to sign this contract with its associated confidentiality clauses,” Hobbs tapped a small bundle of files in front of her, “I’ll pay you two thousand dollars a day plus reasonable expenses. You report to me.”
Hobbs handed over two copies of his contract to review and sign. Andy initialled each page and signed both copies. Hobbs initialled each page and signed both copies herself. Keeping one for HR and tossing one to Andy for him to keep.
“What I’m going to tell you doesn’t leave this room. If you need anything, go through Chuck and assume he knows nothing … you need to keep it that way.”
“Understood.” Andy was intrigued as to why the Agency needed him, they had a building full of spies like Chuck … Agents who hadn’t been disgraced.
“One of our analysts on the Russian Desk had been investigating a new crime organisation. It started in Saint Petersburg and has spread its wings quickly throughout Russia, by either taking over other mafia groups or wiping them out completely, with ruthless efficiency. They are the largest mafia organisation in Russia. Now they have a strong foothold, they are branching out and taking over legitimate businesses and spreading their tentacles across the globe to launder dirty money into clean.”
“What’s the CIA’s interest?” Andy asked, he could see that there could be a link with Vladim but at the moment it was tenuous.
“Our analyst, Amanda Lightfoot, flagged them early and watched them grow. We believe they can call upon the favors of local and many national political figures in Russia. Those who don’t want to play along can, and have been, manipulated in other ways or they disappear. If the US Government can apply the right sort of leverage and incentives to their leader, we could influence the future direction and policy decisions of the Russian Government. Think of the intelligence we would gain. We’d never again be out-foxed or wrong footed by the Russians. It’s priceless.”
Wow! You’ve been drinking too much of Lightfoot’s Cool Aid! Getting in bed with the Russian Mafia is a high risk strategy. There’s bound to be a catch.
Undeterred by the sceptical look Andy gave her, Hobbs continued, “Amanda travelled to Saint Petersburg as part of the investigation accompanied by Bruce Chester, our Russian Head of Station. They were both abducted. Four agents were sent from Moscow to investigate their disappearance. When the Agents arrived in Saint Petersburg they were gunned down as they left the airport.” Hobbs started placing A4 sized photos of the murder crime scene onto the table in front of Andy. The first picture showed a silver sedan riddled with bullet holes, all its glass shattered. The next, the inside of the car. If anyone walked away from that it would be a miracle!
“Any survivors?”
“No.” Hobbs’s voice maintained its calm composure. You are the Ice Lady! Like a poker player slowly revealing their cards one at a time, she placed more pictures down on the table. The color pictures of each of the dead Agents were very graphic. Andy felt his rusty training winding into action as he looked at the photos in more detail. Judging by the number of hits on the car, they were ambushed by more than one gunman. Automatic weapons too. Close range. Looking down at the gruesome images his stomach started to churn.
Hobbs carried on, “A few days later Bruce’s body turned up in the Moyka river. He’d been tortured before being murdered. There has been no sign of Amanda. We’re presuming she’s dead and the body hasn’t surfaced yet.” Hobbs placed more photos onto the table, one of Bruce after he’d been pulled from the river, one of him in the morgue and, finally, one of Amanda at her graduation ceremony from The Farm. Andy studied each of the pictures in detail.
Hobbs hadn’t finished, “We assessed the risks were too great to send more agents plus I didn’t want to appear in front of a Senate enquiry as a ‘please explain’ agenda item. So, we engaged with private contractors through our preferred supplier, Vectron Security. We tasked Vectron to investigate the kidnapping and murder of our Agents.”
Hobbs paused and took a sip of water from the glass that had been on the table when Andy had arrived. “Their representatives were kidnapped from their hotel in Saint Petersburg shortly after they arrived. Their tortured bodies were found the next day dumped by the side of a main highway just outside the city. The directors at Vectron cancelled their contract due to the extreme risks.” Hobbs placed more color photographs on the table, the badly mutilated bodies of the four Vectron employees seemed to jump out at him, Andy’s stomach started to heave. He looked up from the pictures and fixed his gaze on Hobbs, hoping he wouldn’t throw up.
The shooting of the Agents had been quick and designed to deliver a swift death. The message was clear. Stay away! The Vectron guys met a long, slow, agonising end. The message it delivered, even clearer. This is our city. We own it. Keep away or else.
“They were our choice of contractors for a reason. These guys were experienced ex-Navy Seals and knew how to handle themselves. Whoever we’re up against are good.”
“You don’t want to use Agency assets and your contractors have walked away,” Andy’s eyes met hers, “is that why you need me?”
Hobbs sighed, “I can’t use Agency personnel as the loss of more agents will attract media coverage and I’ll look bad.” No shit! “As an independent contractor the media won’t be interested in you, and I don’t think your ex-wife would be too bothered either, particularly if we sent her a generous cheque to help her come to terms with her ‘deep loss’.” Andy watched Hobbs smile as she delivered her sarcastic lines. She knew Jane had left him and that she would probably dance on his grave. Hobbs was brutal. “I need a Russian expert who can find their way around and identify the head of this mafia organisation.”
So, I’m expendable. No one will miss me. You won’t look bad or have to justify why you sent me into a volatile environment. And if I die my ex-wife will be looked after. How about I do a good job, and you apologise for doubting me by allowing me back into the Agency. He rubbed his chin as he thought about Hobbs’s offer. It was very tempting to walk away, but equally, with the chance his career could be re-ignited, it was a very interesting brief. He could do it; he’d cheated death many times at the hands of some really bad people.
“Are you in or out?” Hobbs asked.
“Let me think about this,” he replied. Hobbs started to look uneasy as she expected a quick decision from Flint. What about Vladim? How can I save him and work for the Agency? Is that even possible? His mind raced. He decided to push his luck, “I’ll need access to Insights.”
Hobbs
recoiled from the table in surprise, “What? Are you kidding me? You know only CIA employees, the NSA and a small number of their top secret cleared sub-contractors have access to Insights, right?”
“It will speed up the investigation. I’ve got my own laptop. All I need is the application, secure token and login details. You can make it happen. You know you can.”
Hobbs fell silent for a few moments as she weighed up her options, “This goes against my better judgement, but these are unusual times. I’ll arrange your access.”
Hobbs reached into her briefcase removing a large brown file stamped ‘Top Secret’ and slid it across the desk, “Amanda was studying this.” Andy glanced at the familiar front cover of the ‘The Makarov File’. “You can’t take it with you, but then again, you don’t need a copy, do you?”
He shook his head as he saw there, in black and white, the name of the author: Andrew P. Flint.
CHAPTER 6
As they approached Andy’s neighborhood, Chuck spoke for the first time, “Hobbs asked me to get you the HR files for six of our staff and some documents on Vectron Security. Looks to be connected with Russia.” Chuck pointed over his shoulder. Andy looked in the back of the SUV, a large cardboard box had been wedged behind Chuck’s seat. The box appeared to contain paper files. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Chuck asked in a jovial way, as though they were buddies in a bar.
“Not really, I’ve just been asked to be a fresh pair of eyes across something,” Andy tried to sound easy but even he wasn’t convinced, “but I’ll come to you if I need anything.” Andy paused and looked out of the window for a moment as he thought about what he might need. He turned back to Chuck, “I’ll need to go to Moscow and Saint Petersburg. Probably next week.” The Government can pay and it will help me to find Vladim if I don’t have Dortman breathing down my neck.
Chuck nodded, “Let me know when and I’ll arrange it for you.”
Arriving at the apartment, Andy took the box from the rear seat and closed the door to the SUV. Chuck quickly pulled away; he’d done his job and gave Andy the impression he didn’t want to be contaminated by Andy’s reputation. Andy scanned the street. The workmen and their service vehicles had gone for the day. As there were fewer parked cars he now had a clear view of the street. He opened the door to his apartment and expected the alarm to beep, but the continuous red light indicated it hadn’t been set. No surprise! He shrugged.