Russian Resurgence

by Allan Topol

  “Part way.”

  “It figures with Szabo. You and I had a rule we could tell each other anything without fearing it would be repeated. Can we impose that again?”

  “For sure.”

  “Then I’ll tell you I disliked Szabo when we last worked together. The man’s gotten much worse. He’s a horror—a megalomaniac, consumed with the power he has and always wanting more.”

  “That fits with what I’ve heard.”

  “Why are you here?” Nemeth asked. “To locate Omar? And who sent you? Giuseppe?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Nemeth laughed. “With you, Craig, it’s always complicated. Tell me about it.”

  Knowing he could trust Nemeth and that he desperately needed the Hungarian’s help, Craig told him about Amos’s and Emma’s murders. He omitted Nick, and after talking for ten minutes, he came to the bottom line. “Szabo omitted some information when he told you about Omar. Omar’s plan is to kill Szabo and Kuznov, probably at Wednesday’s ceremony.”

  “You sure Szabo knows he’s a target?”

  “President Worth personally called Szabo and gave him the warning.”

  “Tell me again how you know that Omar is in Budapest,” Nemeth requested. “It may help us figure out where he is.”

  Craig told him about Ayanna and Rachid.

  When he was finished, Nemeth said, “Do you have her brother’s cell number?”

  “I do.”

  “Perhaps the phone was overlooked. It could have been left where it fell.”

  “But how likely is that?” Craig asked skeptically.

  Nemeth shrugged. “Only a slight chance, but sometimes even seasoned terrorists make mistakes. At any rate, I can’t think of a better way of locating Omar. Perhaps you can.”

  Craig shook his head. “You could give the cell number to your tech people and see if they could locate it.”

  “Our tech people are back in the Stone Age. It could take them six weeks. But your embassy must have some good IT people. Perhaps they could provide guidance.”

  Craig wasn’t optimistic this would succeed, but he was willing to give it a try.

  They split, promising to remain in contact, and Craig raced back to the embassy where he told Doug that he wanted the techies at the embassy to work with their Hungarian counterparts to locate the phone.

  “I’ll do that, but their IT is rudimentary.”

  “I know that. It’s why I’m asking you to have our people involved.”

  “Do I need approval for that?”

  Craig wanted to scream but he kept himself under control. “Of course not,” he said calmly and with confidence. “We’re on an assignment authorized by POTUS. I’ve been authorized to use all the resources that our country has except for American troops. Now get moving.”

  Omar hated being cooped up in the castle. During the day, he had to get outside to clear his mind and to walk around. It didn’t seem to bother the other men. They were always playing cards and video games; they could play all day.

  Omar wanted to run through the plans for Wednesday’s attack, so he and Shamil went out to the back of the house and sat down on the ground. Using a stick, Omar scratched a square in the dirt representing the area in front of the parliament where the ceremony would take place.

  As he scratched, he heard a sound in the bushes near where Rachid had been hiding when he made that call on his cell phone. He got up and walked over with Shamil following. A small wild boar raced away.

  “Maybe he was looking for Rachid’s cell phone,” said Shamil.

  “What’d you say?” Omar asked.

  “Maybe that boar was looking for Rachid’s cell phone.”

  Omar had heard Shamil perfectly well the first time. His words hit Omar like a ton of bricks. Omar realized he had made a serious error by not finding the cell phone that Rachid had tossed into the woods and destroying it so it couldn’t be used to locate them. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Omar had the number of Rachid’s cell because he had used it in Clichy.

  Now he took out his own phone and walked into the woods in the area where Rachid had thrown it. As he walked, Omar repeatedly dialed Rachid’s number. After a few minutes he heard a faint, “Beep . . . beep . . . beep.” He followed the noise into the trees, disregarding the branches that were scratching his arms, until finally he found the phone, still intact. It hadn’t rained since Rachid had used it.

  Omar examined the phone and saw there was a voicemail from the previous day. He listened to it. “Rachid, this is Ayanna. Are you okay? Please call me.”

  In a rage as he thought about what Rachid had done, Omar handed the phone to Shamil. “I want you to destroy the SIM card and the phone with a hammer. Then I want you to drive it down to the river and throw it into the Danube.”

  Doug was right, Craig realized. The Hungarian IT was rudimentary. Even working with Americans at the embassy it took them until six o’clock that evening to conclude that Rachid’s cell phone could not be located.

  Trying not to feel discouraged, Craig told himself that it had been a long shot anyway. His only hope now was that Peter might have some information that would help them locate Omar. Craig called Nemeth to tell him that they had struck out on the phone.

  “I have one other possibility,” he said. “I’ll let you know in the morning if that works.”

  When Craig returned to the hotel, he said hello to Pierre, who was seated in the corridor outside of their suite. He found Elizabeth hunched over her laptop in the living room of the suite. She came over and kissed him.

  “Where’s Nick?” he asked.

  “In his bedroom playing a video game on my iPad.”

  “Good. I want to tell you what happened.”

  When he was finished she said, “So you’re no closer to finding Omar.”

  He smiled. “You have a very concise way of summing it up. And how was your day?”

  “Not nearly as exciting. I’ve been editing pieces for the Herald. But I have a plan for us before Peter gets here at eleven.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I’m going down to the gym to work out for about an hour.”

  “Accompanied by Pierre.”

  “Of course. Then there’s an excellent restaurant, Baraka, about two or three blocks from the hotel. You, Nick, and I should go for dinner.”

  “We can’t risk Nick being seen in a restaurant,” Craig interrupted.

  “Agreed. So I called and found out they have a private dining room. We’ll take Pierre with us. The kid needs a night out. What do you think?”

  “We all need a night out,” Craig agreed with a sigh. “Let’s do it.”

  “You’re really willing?” She sounded surprised.

  “Yeah. I think that either I shook the Russian tail or Kuznov called off the dogs. At this point, Szabo probably doesn’t know we’re in Budapest, and Omar’s hiding from us. It’s good to be the hunter instead of the hunted for once.”

  They returned to the hotel suite at ten fifteen. Nick had enjoyed being able to get out of the hotel for a few hours, and thanked them for taking him to dinner. Then he went into his bedroom to await his grandfather’s arrival. He seemed anxious, and Craig couldn’t blame him. His grandfather, who he had loved dearly, was returning from the dead.

  Precisely at eleven o’clock, Craig heard a knock on the door. He had seen pictures of Peter, with his thinning gray hair, and he knew Peter would be in disguise. But he was still surprised to see the man who walked into the suite with a thick head of brown hair—a very professional toupee—and a matching mustache. He was wearing wire-framed glasses, which Peter didn’t need, and he had a sandpaper beard, unlike the clean-shaven Peter that Craig had seen in photos.

  “Hello. I’m Peter Toth.”

  While Craig stared at the visitor, Elizabeth came forward. “Elizabeth Crowder,” she said.

  “The reporter?”

  “Correct. And this is my friend Craig.”

  “Where’s Nick?”r />
  She went into the bedroom and brought Nick out. He stopped dead in his tracks and did a double take looking at Peter.

  “It’s me,” Peter said. The voice must have satisfied the boy because he ran to Peter and gave him a big hug.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay, Nick. I’m sorry that I caused you so much pain,” Peter said, his voice cracking.

  “I did everything you said, Grandpa.” Nick said, overcome with emotion. “I ran away from the house, and I called Emma. Then I flew to Paris just as you told me.”

  “I’m so proud of you.”

  “But I was scared after the fire and finding out Emma was dead as soon as I got to Paris.”

  “I had no idea that would happen. I was terrified for you when I heard about Emma’s death.”

  “I don’t know what I would have done if Elizabeth didn’t take me home with her,” Nick continued. “And she’s taken good care of me ever since. Craig, too. He’s a superspy. You should have seen him kill those two Russians in the Häagen-Dazs!”

  “I’m very grateful to both of you,” Peter said. “I don’t know how I could possibly repay you for taking care of Nick.”

  Peter turned to Nick. “I want you to know how hard I tried to find you that night. I hadn’t been able to sleep, although I pretended to when you looked into our bedroom before you snuck down to watch the game.”

  “You knew?”

  “Of course. Then I heard the Russian intruders. I grabbed the gun in the table next to the bed, figuring they would come upstairs to kill me and your grandmother. I was hiding behind a door on the landing, and as soon as they were in sight, I surprised them. Only one fired a shot, and it missed me. I killed both of them. Then I went downstairs to find you. I saw the open window in the basement and realized you had followed the escape plan I gave you. On the way down, I saw the gasoline and other stuff the Russians had brought to set the house on fire after they killed me and your grandmother, so I decided to use it. I wanted everyone to think I was dead. That way the Russians would stop hunting me.”

  “You did a good job,” Craig said.

  “How did you realize I was alive?” Peter asked.

  “FBI analysis of dental records of the bodies found in the house.”

  Peter turned to Nick. “After I set the fire, your grandma and I got into the car. We drove around the area for a long time, trying to find you, but we couldn’t. I even thought of driving to Dulles Airport, because you would be there for a flight to Paris as I had arranged with Emma, but I thought that would be too dangerous because the Russians might know I had escaped and they would be looking for me there. I didn’t think they’d be looking for you. I wanted you to be safe. I thought you would be okay because you would fly to Paris and Emma would take care of you. I never thought the Russians would kill Emma as well.”

  “Where’s Grandma?” Nick asked.

  “I drove her to Cleveland and hid her there with your cousins Margaret and Hal.”

  “Then where did you go?” Nick asked, his eyes wide.

  “I had a fake passport. I flew to Budapest.”

  “Did you want to be here when Omar killed Kuznov and Szabo?” Craig asked. “To gloat?”

  “So you know about that. . . .” Peter looked vaguely confused by Craig’s unexpected knowledge.

  “Also that you agreed to pay Omar twenty million euros to kill Szabo and perhaps Kuznov, and that you already paid the first ten million, funneling the money through Emma.”

  Peter pulled back in surprise. “I’m not sure Nick should hear this,” he said finally.

  Elizabeth intervened. “The boy’s been through a lot. He’s entitled to know what happened.”

  “I even met with President Worth,” Nick chimed in.

  Craig smiled. The kid was sharp. Craig was hoping that with Nick listening they could convince Peter to call off Omar. “Why don’t you tell us what you had in mind Peter?” Craig said.

  “It’s true that I did hire Omar to kill Szabo and Kuznov, but you have to understand why. The Russians caused so much pain and suffering to millions of Hungarians, not just to me and my family. Now Szabo would be letting Russian troops back into the country again. I couldn’t let it happen.”

  “And you think that justified the assassination of two national leaders?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Initially I did.” He sounded defensive. “But after Emma’s murder, I realized I was wrong. Assassination isn’t the solution. I had to find another way to block the agreement from being finalized.”

  “Omar’s still in Budapest,” Craig said.

  “You never called him off,” Elizabeth added.

  “I tried,” Peter said with a sigh. “I pleaded with him to keep my first payment and to go back to Grozny. He refused. I threatened to withhold the second payment, but it didn’t matter to him. Omar hates Kuznov. He’s now operating on his own agenda.”

  Craig was flabbergasted. He had not expected to hear this from Peter.

  “You set him in motion,” Craig said.

  “True, but I’m not responsible for what he does now.”

  Craig opened his mouth to argue with Peter, reconsidered, and moved on. “Have you found another way to block the agreement from being finalized?”

  “I’m working on it, but I don’t want to tell you about it yet because I’m not sure it will succeed.”

  “And meantime Omar is on the loose somewhere in this city of almost two million people, and we have no idea where,” Craig retorted.

  “Listen, Craig. I told you that I tried to stop Omar. I don’t want him to kill Szabo or Kuznov either.”

  “Then tell us where to find him.”

  When Peter didn’t reply, Craig was convinced that he knew where Omar was and was considering whether or not to tell them. Did he want to hedge his bets? If his other way of blocking the agreement didn’t pan out, would he still prefer that Omar kill Kuznov and Szabo? The moment of truth had come.

  “If you don’t tell us and Omar succeeds, you’ll be treated as an accomplice to murder. The police will arrest you,” Elizabeth pointed out, adding pressure for Peter.

  Nick burst into tears. “I don’t want you to be arrested, Grandpa.”

  “So which is more important to you,” Elizabeth continued, on a roll, “revenge for what was done to you and your mother by Colonel Suslov or your future with Nick?”

  “How do you know about Colonel Suslov?” Peter asked startled.

  “Tracy Thomas and I spent time together after the moving memorial service for you at the Church of the Little Flower.”

  He looked chagrined at the mention of Tracy. And he should, Elizabeth thought. After all she had done for him, Peter had treated Tracy like a used tissue.

  “Tell them,” Nick said. “Please tell them. I don’t want to lose you again.”

  Peter took a deep breath and said, “I rented a deserted castle for Omar in the hills outside of Buda. He and his men are probably there now or they will be by tomorrow.”

  “Where’s the castle?” Craig asked.

  Peter walked over to the desk, pulled a piece of stationery out of the drawer and a pen from his pocket. With Craig looking over his shoulder, he drew a map, placing an x at the location of the castle. He handed it to Craig, looking him in the eye. “I hope you find Omar and stop him.”

  Then Peter walked around to Nick. “This will all be over in two days,” Peter told his grandson, “and when it is, I promise to make everything up to you. We will always be together.”

  Nick still looked worried as Peter hugged him goodbye.

  “I have to leave now,” Peter said. “I have work to do to destroy Szabo and to block the treaty from going into effect. But nothing involving violence. I promise you.”

  Once Peter was gone, Craig turned to Nick. “Do you have any idea what your grandfather meant when he said he was working on a way to block the agreement from being finalized?”

  Nick shook his head.

  “Think back to his phone call with E
mma,” Elizabeth said, “when you were eavesdropping during the baseball game. Can you recall anything else they talked about?”

  Nick thought about it for a few minutes. Then he said, “There is something else I remember. Grandpa said he still had his key to their vault box in Paris.”

  “Anything else?” Elizabeth asked.

  Nick shook his head.

  Craig interjected, “Maybe Emma left something for Peter in the vault box? Since she was working with him to dismantle the agreement, it could have been something to do with that.”

  Nick yawned. “I’m tired,” he said. “I’m going to sleep.”

  While Elizabeth walked Nick into the bedroom, Craig called Betty on the encrypted phone and reported what they had learned.

  “Excellent,” she said. “Email me the map. I’ll get satellite and drone surveillance on it at daybreak. Can you get to the embassy at five tomorrow morning? I’ll arrange for you to get real-time video feed.”

  At five in the morning, as darkness was giving way to light in Budapest, Craig, Doug Caldwell, and a thermos of hot, strong black coffee were in the communications room in the embassy. The red phone was on the table, and a video screen on one wall.

  Moments later, images appeared on the screen, and Betty was on the phone.

  “Morning, Craig and Doug,” she said.

  “And good evening to you,” Craig replied.

  “Look at the screen. The castle Peter identified is in the center.”

  Craig saw a gray stone building with turrets shooting up into the air. It had an almost medieval look. The only other structure on the screen was another similar looking castle that Craig guessed was about a hundred yards away.

  “We’re zooming in on the castle Peter identified,” Betty said.

  The castle came into clear focus.

  “That’s it,” Betty said.

  “We should destroy the castle with a missile or a drone,” Craig said.

  “I knew you’d want to do that, so I already ran it by the president.”