Coercion
Page 30
Novosibirsk’s elite bunker was located beneath the ten meters of hardened concrete that formed the foundation of its nuclear power plant. When Vasily built the new KGB office a few kilometers from there, he ensured that it rested directly above that escape tunnel, presumably so that the top KGB brass would also have access to it. Then, as soon as the building was completed but before anyone had moved in, he faked a radiation leak at the nuclear plant, Peithoed the children of a couple government inspectors, and voila, the bunker became the Knyaz’s headquarters, and the abandoned access tunnel made it invisible.
This morning, Maximov would whisk Anna to The Complex through the last three kilometers of the forgotten tunnel in a glorified mining cart. He would know to leave the headlights off, making the silent five-minute commute feel like an endless journey to the depths of Hell. By the time she reached the other end she would feel like she was buried alive. After a couple claustrophobic hours alone in a dark cell, she would be thrilled to see him. Then the fun would start…
Chapter 61
Academic City, Siberia
The road or the woods? The road or the woods? Alex was facing a dilemma. His exit strategy from the KGB compound was bold and simple; out the front door. The dilemma was selecting the route that gave him the best chance of getting that far.
It’s hard to judge distance while riding beneath a jeep—kind of like judging descent when falling from a plane—but he figured the KGB complex was no more than three miles from the nuclear power plant, and probably closer to two. That fit with his recollection of the map. If he took the road he increased the risk of encountering a patrol, but he would probably reach the building before daybreak. That would increase the odds that he could slip in the back door unobserved. On the other hand, if he went through the woods he wouldn’t need to worry about patrols, but then his last hundred meters would be fully exposed.
He looked to the heavens for guidance and chose the road. Eighteen breathless minutes later he arrived undetected at the back of the central building. Whether the patrols were infrequent, or he was just lucky, Alex did not know or care. Freedom was but a few feet away, and conditions were favorable. He tapped the Peitho printouts in his breast pocket with a sense of profound satisfaction.
Once he passed the front gate, he would take the bus to the metro and the metro to the center of Novosibirsk and the US Consulate. There he would work with the officer-in-charge to get himself on a plane home. Then he would team up with a couple of Agency friends and pay a visit to his old friend, Jason Stormer. Yes, just a few steps more…
Alex took a moment to catch his breath, and then held it again while sliding Yarik’s card through the reader. The red diode turned to green with a friendly click, and he slipped inside. You couldn’t get much closer to the fire than this. He was cookin’.
Alex found himself standing near the toe end of an L-shaped hallway. There was an elevator a few yards farther down the dead-end hall to his right. To his left the hallway ran about ten yards and then turned right. Alex did not want to risk taking more than a moment to shake off the cold and get his uniform in order; the elevator doors could open at any time.
The hallway lights were still working on their nighttime dim setting, indicating that not many people had arrived yet, if any. Excellent. Now he had to work his way to the front of the building undetected and find a window from which he could watch the front gate. There he would wait for either a changing of the guard or the arrival of a large group of people before attempting his bold frontal retreat. Just a walk in the park, nothing to be nervous about.
Alex had a general’s uniform and a colonel’s ID. That wasn’t perfect, but at least the Soviets didn’t share the Americans love of nametags. No reason to worry, Alex, guards never pay much attention to people leaving, right?
Alex turned the corner into a long corridor and began his homeward march. No sooner had he done so than the hallway lights brightened. Had he tripped a motion detector? Activated a surveillance camera? Run out of luck?
It was a long corridor, probably fifty yards or so. He was comparing his plight to that of a Superbowl coach when he spotted the illuminators at the far end of the hall. Two people were walking in his direction. Defensive linemen? Time to punt?
Alex continued walking as before, trying to get an early read. They did not look like a security detail; one of the two was in uniform, the other was not. Alex began willing them to turn into an offices before they reached him, and he slowed his pace to improve those odds.
Natural, natural, try to look natural. What! Holy shit! It’s Anna.
The KGB officer with Anna had his right arm tightly around her left bicep; it was not a gentlemanly escort. The sight flipped a switch in Alex’s brain, releasing chemicals and reactivating the predator within. Alex felt like Texas. Don’t mess with me.
The pair was ten yards away and closing with no one else in the hallway. Alex turned to the doorway on his right and pretended to fumble in his pocket for keys. Then, as the couple walked past behind him, he whipped his right elbow back and around and smashed it into the man’s nose with all the might he could muster. The crack was sickening, but only Anna was there to hear it. Fortunately she didn’t scream. Alex continued his pivot and caught the KGB Major by the throat as he dropped. Squeezing hard and moving fast, Alex used his free hand to open the door. Then he propelled the stunned officer inside.
“Close the door, Anna.”
Alex had planned to pinch the man’s carotids until he passed out, but now he saw that this would not be necessary. His elbow had punched the cartilage from the Major’s nose up into his brain. He was dead. Wow. Alex knew that this was possible, but he had never done it before—it was hard to find volunteers for practice. His drill instructors would be proud. Alex felt nauseous.
He looked up at Anna and felt a rush of affection. Was there an emotion that wasn’t flooding his brain this morning? No time for those now.
“Are you okay?”
Anna nodded. Her eyes were wide as saucers.
He took her arm and led her to a chair. “Why don’t you sit down for a second.”
Alex looked around. They were in a storage room full of dusty metal desks and filing cabinets and other odds and ends. Someone was watching over him. He grabbed the major’s corpse by the heels and dragged it to the back of the room where he stuffed it into the foot-well of a desk. Then he paused in thought, nodded to himself, and ducked back under the desk for a demotion. A moment later Alex was a major. Now he was under ranked versus Andrey’s identification—he couldn’t use Maximov’s ID since the guards almost certainly knew him—but at least he was less conspicuous.
He walked over to where Anna was sitting and crouched in front of her.
“What happened?”
“They came looking for you,” she began, sobbing. Then Anna pulled herself together and told him everything.
When she got to the scene where she stood her ground against the general, Alex added toughest to the list of superlatives he could use to describe Anna. When she had finished Alex took both her hands and said, “I’m so sorry to have gotten you into this, Anna. All I can do to make it up to you is help you to get out of it safely. Do you trust me to do that?”
“Of course I do.”
“Good. Here’s what you need to do…”
After Alex finished he made her repeat everything back, twice.
Anna seemed stunned, but then who wouldn’t be. Her life might never be the same again. It certainly wouldn’t be anytime soon. Although they needed to move, he gave her a minute to breathe deeply and let his instructions sink in. He needed the minute himself to figure out one last problem.
When at last Anna looked up, Alex handed her a copy of the Peitho list. “Anna, on your way out of town, I want you to go to the church and hide this in the spine of the big Bible when nobody is looking. It’s my backup.”
“Okay. Why there?”
“Your apartment is clearly out, as is your mother’s.
And you can’t entrust it to friends without endangering them. The US consulate isn’t an alternative because they will have it watched the moment they find you missing. Actually the KGB probably has somebody permanently inside.”
She nodded again.
Poor girl. He had dragged her into the deep end of his dangerous world. It was time to change the subject. Alex looked at his watch: ten-to-nine, time to get moving. “All right now, you need to compose yourself. You’ve got to walk out that front door looking calm and relieved.”
“I don’t understand why you can’t go with me, Alex?”
“We have to get at least one copy of that list out of here, and this doubles our chances. Besides, together we would draw more attention than alone, and we need to leverage every advantage we can find. Don’t you worry. I’ll be watching. If you get stopped at the gate just tell them Major Maximov released you. If that doesn’t work, I’ll show up and try to bluff us both out.”
She didn’t look convinced and Alex didn’t blame her. He wasn’t either.
“Hey, it’s not going to come to that. These guys are not going to question your story. The thought that you could have overpowered Major Maximov would never enter their macho minds.”
“And you’ll be right behind me?”
“Once I see you catch the bus back to town, I’ll be walking out the door myself. Believe me, I want out of here just as badly as you do.” Alex sounded so confident he almost convinced himself.
“Look, Anna. About our earlier conversation …”
~ ~ ~
I love that woman, Alex thought, as five minutes later he watched Anna pass through the exit booth. She was the perfect picture of righteous indignation mixed with fear and relief. He had gotten the list out! Now Anna should be okay—as long as she followed his instructions.
Alex had read the bus schedule the day before. It ran to and from the metro every ten minutes weekday mornings and afternoons, bringing workers in and out. And there was one now. Alex Ferris takes on the KGB, and wins! His daily billing rate had just doubled.
Alex watched as the bus disgorged a dozen early arrivals—mostly women he noted with surprise—and picked up one beloved passenger. He smiled with satisfaction as the door swung closed, and the old bus pulled away.
He would wait for the arrival of the next bus, and make his exit in the throng of activity. One ticket to freedom, please.
The bus approached as scheduled, exactly ten minutes later. He had felt all six hundred seconds but had not doubted that the bus would come. There were advantages to the precision of a military economy. Alex was pleased to see that there was also a jeep on approach; it would add to the confusion. Ironically, it looked like the same one he had ridden in, or rather under, a couple of hours earlier. The ships that passed in the night had come full circle.
Like the entry, the compound’s exit was an intimidating gauntlet. It was a glass booth with magnetically sealed doors at both ends. With the combined distraction of a busload of passengers and a jeep seeking entry, Alex stepped into the exit booth. His timing couldn’t be better.
Standing there before the guards, his mind screaming, “Just buzz me through,” while his face struggled to remain indifferent, he waited for the clicks that would set him free. Was this what restaurant lobsters felt like?
As the first door locked behind him, Alex began silently singing to himself. One-hundred bottles of beer on the wall, one-hundred bottles of beer… But instead of hearing the second click, the one announcing his freedom, he heard a car door slam. Alex followed the guard’s gaze and turned around to see a man in a general’s uniform running toward him. This couldn’t be good; his uniform was probably real. The general stopped before the door and stared in at him. Alex met his eye and saw a flash of recognition. Again? He was feeling more famous than Michael Jackson.
Then the booth began filling with gas.
Chapter 62
San Francisco, California
Victor lay on the guestroom bed and busied himself by tossing Elaine’s antique teddy bear up into the air, playing chicken with the ceiling fan. Two doors down, Elaine was reading Dancing Shoes to her sleepy-eyed girl, as oblivious to her impending fate as a fish to a hook.
Victor had weighed the decision for a week, the risks and rewards of another murder. In the end, the possibility that Elaine had assisted Alex tipped the scale against her. That pissed Victor off. They had a deal: he didn’t kill Kimberly, she was his bitch. If she had reneged, all bets were off.
Victor’s change of plan, his decision to disappear, had toppled the first domino. Once he oversaw the remaining sabotage at United Electronics and MicroComp, his Knyaz job would be complete. He would have assured Knyaz AG’s position at the forefront of three booming industries. His twenty-percent interest would be worth billions. He could buy his island, have women flown in and out with the groceries and trash, and enjoy the rewards of his life’s labor. It would be perfect—unless someone was looking for him.
The way to avoid that, of course, was to tie up every loose end. Yarik had taught him as much. The only person left in America who might suspect his identity, was Elaine. Alex’s meddling had frayed the knot. She was the difference between a carefree life in a bungalow, and a cowering life in a fortress, between breathing easy, and holding his breath. He gave teddy another toss. No, not that tough a decision after all.
The time to act was now. Completing the sabotage would take a week, ten days at most. Then he would pay daddy a surprise visit to deliver the news, pick up his Knyaz AG stock, and vanish. Once comfortably and anonymously ensconced in his new island life, he would contact his KGB boss and inform him of his decision to retire. Victor was still three years short of twenty years service, and his action would be highly irregular, but they would let him go. Since his KGB boss had no knowledge of Peitho, Victor’s results had appeared miraculous. He had allowed his boss to take the credit for those miracles in Moscow, and that put him in Victor’s debt big time.
Victor had spent two prior evenings in and around Elaine’s house, studying her from the shadows and learning her routines. After putting Kimberly to bed, she would change into her bathrobe and slippers and begin drawing a bath in her deep Roman tub. Then, while the tub filled, she would zip down to the kitchen to pack Kimberly’s lunch and flip through a magazine over a cup of tea. Tonight, Victor would slip from the guest bedroom into the linen closet in the master bath while she sipped her tea completely unaware that she only had minutes to live. Her god had nothing on him.
Once Elaine finished her tea, she would come back upstairs and hop in the tub with the water still running, waiting for it to hit the perfect level. When she moved to turn the faucet off, Victor would slip out behind her and release Medusa. Even if she should happen to see or sense his approach there would be little she could do. One paralyzing puff and it would be over. While she lay paralyzed in the tub he would slit her wrists with a razor blade.
Her death would look like a cut-and-dry suicide to the investigating detective. There would be no struggle, and she would be in the bathtub of her own accord, as was her normal routine. Lord knew the police were gullible enough to lap that easy explanation right up, at least if the Frank Ferris murder were any indication. Victor was not pleased that the kid would find her mother that way. It would be traumatic to say the least. But in the end, Kimberly was going to lose her mother anyway, so what did it really matter?
The only tactical downside to the plan was that there was no way for him to work sex into the equation. He had thought about using one of the killer condoms Yarik had sent him. Thought, hell, he had racked his brains for a way to use one. Unfortunately, the evidence of copulation would raise too many questions. Given all the other events that had happened, the police might not buy into the heart-attack scenario that the condom supported. Such a shame. Victor still remembered the note that Yarik had attached with the shipment—for use in sexecutions—and laughed. It did have a ring to it. He launched the bear again.
A minute later he heard Elaine’s soft footfalls going down the stairs. They were music to his ears. He felt like a Maestro conducting a symphony of one—until his pager chimed a dreaded note and the music stopped. Oh, how he hated that thing. He snatched it from his belt, input his code and read the unwelcome text: 001-111 SU326 SFO-SVO 2300 !!! “Nnnooooo,” he mouthed a long silent scream. It was a message from his father, urgent, priority one, drop everything else. He was booked on Aeroflot flight 326 for Moscow departing San Francisco in, he checked his watch, less than two hours. He would have to leave immediately. The “!!!” was clear enough: drop everything and get to the airport at once. There were to be NO excuses.
Just one more week. That was all he needed, just one more week. Victor looked at his watch again. The tub took close to ten minutes to fill. There would not be time to dispose of Elaine properly. Victor refused to make the amateur mistake of deviating from his plan—that was how fools got caught. He would just have to pick up where he left off when he returned. Oh, but how he wanted to do her now. The juices were flowing, the plan was in place, and he was ready for action. Suppose he were to disobey his father …
Chapter 63