Black Harvest (The PROJECT)

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Black Harvest (The PROJECT) Page 17

by Lukeman, Alex


  "Rice still doesn't know about Arkady?" Nick and Korov had begun using their first names with each other.

  "No. He doesn't need to."

  "What do you have in mind?"

  "I've spoken with Hood. I don't think he's any part of this. He's arranged a meeting with Lodge."

  "Where?"

  "We'll beard the lion in his den. At his home in Virginia. It's set for this evening."

  Korov looked lost.

  Harker continued. "Selena and Lamont outside for backup. Ronnie and Steph can mind the fort. Hood will be there."

  If Korov looked lost before, now he was totally confused.

  "These idioms."

  Nick laughed. "Don't worry about it, Comrade. We're going to put an end to this, tonight."

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  Selena and Lamont waited in the car. They watched Clarence Hood meet Nick, Harker and Korov at the door of Lodge's Virginia home. All four went inside.

  Lamont watched the door close. "I don't like this,"

  "No."

  "Let's scout out the area."

  They got out of the car. A few evening birds sang to each other in the twilight. The lawns around the house were newly mowed. The clean scent of fresh cut grass filled the air. It was still warm from the day. They walked around the flower beds to the side of the house and paused at the corner. French doors led from a large patio into a lighted study. They had a good view. Lodge sat in a red leather chair behind a desk. Hood and the others came into the room. Hood closed the study door behind him and took a seat on Lodge's left, facing the others.

  Selena and Lamont wore earpieces that let them hear everything. Watch and listen, Harker had said. Don't intervene unless you absolutely have to. Everyone was armed. Selena knew she and Lamont were strictly a last resort. Their job was out here, not in that room.

  Harker settled herself in her chair.

  "You've gone too far this time, Wendell. The President is concerned."

  "My, right to the point, Director." Lodge's voice was contemptuous. "The President owes me and I intend to collect the debt. I know far too much and it's an election year. He will not be making any sudden changes at Langley."

  "Is that a blackmail threat? Against the President?"

  "I assume you are recording this. No, it's not a threat. It's a guarantee. I will destroy him. If Rice has any desire to remain in office, he will not interfere."

  "Wendell." It was Hood. "They know."

  "What do they know?"

  "About Demeter and Dansinger. About Wilkinson and Campbell and the others."

  "I wonder who told them?"

  Nick's ear began itching. Elizabeth answered. "We have a video of a meeting you held with Dansinger and Wilkinson. Your security procedures are getting sloppy, Wendell."

  "Ah, that explains it. It must have been in Texas. Harold always thought he was smarter than he was."

  "Why don't you tell us about the Pentagon?" she said.

  "The Pentagon?" Korov looked at her.

  Lodge was pleased. "You see, Major Korov. You just can't trust her. She didn't tell you about Operation Black Harvest, did she?"

  Elizabeth sighed. "It's a war game scenario that predicts total crop failure in Russia, with subsequent invasion in the guise of assistance."

  Korov was getting angry. "This was created by your Pentagon? All of this?"

  "No, It wasn't. It's a war game, a scenario, nothing more. I'm sure you have similar scenarios in Moscow?"

  Korov didn't answer.

  "She's telling the truth, Major. It wasn't the Pentagon." Hood reached under his jacket and took out a 9mm pistol. He pointed it at Korov. "But you won't have a chance to tell anyone about it."

  Lodge smiled. He took a gun from under his desk and pointed it at Nick. He was left handed.

  Outside the house, Selena turned to Lamont.

  "Hood. He's a traitor. What do we do?"

  "Be ready to act. Let Harker give us the cue."

  With his right hand Lodge pressed a button under his desk. Steel shutters dropped down over the French doors, the windows, the entrance to the study. The room was sealed.

  "Shit," Lamont said.

  "The front." They ran to the front of the house. The door was locked. All the windows were sealed. They could hear Lodge's voice over their earpieces.

  "My own version of a panic room. But it's not me who should be panicked."

  "You feeling panicked, Arkady?"

  "No, Nick. Are you?"

  "I know what you're thinking, Carter. Don't try it. You'll never get your weapons out in time. I suggest we talk this out before someone does something stupid."

  Nick remembered the video. Something familiar about one of the people he couldn't see. He looked at Hood.

  "You were at that meeting."

  "Yes, I was."

  "You've known about this all along."

  Hood shrugged.

  "You son of a bitch. We trusted you."

  "It's wise to keep trust close, Nick."

  Harker put her hand on Nick's arm. "Who killed Dansinger, Wendell?"

  "I don't know. Whoever it was did us all a favor."

  The look he gave her was one of pure hatred. "I've had enough of you, Harker, and your little group. Whoever you have outside will not be able to get in here."

  Nick figured he could get one of them before they got him. He made ready.

  Lodge said, "Clarence, I think it's time to end this, don't you?"

  "I certainly do, Wendell."

  Hood swung his pistol to the right and fired at close range. The bullet took Lodge in the temple and blew out the side of his head in a spray of blood and bone. He flew sideways in his chair. The body sprawled against the red leather. The gun dropped from his hand.

  The others sat frozen. Hood ignored them. He stood, wiped down his pistol, placed it in Lodge's left hand and squeezed the hand around it. He took out a small plastic bag filled with black grains and blew some on Lodge's hand and sleeve, sprinkled some on his shirt.

  "A shame the DCI saw no alternative but suicide when confronted with his exposure," Hood said.

  The instant of paralysis had passed. All three had their guns out. Hood reached under the lip of the desk and pressed the panic button. The shutters rolled back into place. Outside, a bird sounded a pleasant trill in the calm Virginia evening.

  Selena and Lamont burst into the room, guns leveled. Hood lifted his hands.

  "Please don't shoot. Director, I think we need to continue this conversation elsewhere. And I believe Major Korov would like to talk with his superior."

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  They'd driven back to the Project in silence. Now they were in Harker's office.

  "I really need a bigger office. All right, Clarence. Out with it."

  "I apologize for the deception, Director. It was necessary. Lodge was cautious. He had to be stopped permanently. I felt that you and Major Korov needed to be sure it was over."

  "Did Rice put you up to this?"

  "Oh, no. I would never involve him in something like this."

  "Did you have Dansinger killed?"

  "I did not. But I have my suspicions. I just can't prove any of it."

  "We're listening."

  "Lodge approached me soon after he made DCI. At first, nothing firm, just sounding me out. How did I feel about the growing threat Moscow posed? Did I think some proactive measures were needed to slow them down? Would I be able to determine the true course of Russia's intentions? Like that. At first it seemed like normal things, the kinds of things we do at Langley."

  Korov remained silent, but his look spoke volumes.

  "I always felt he was holding something back. It's my job, you know. To know when people are concealing something. I went along with him. I'm not a Russophobe, but I decided that would be a good way to gain his trust. So I became his echo whenever he began ranting."

  "He ranted?"

  "Frequently. Lodge was a fanatic. He hated Russia. Then he i
ntroduced me to Dansinger. Eventually they brought me into the plot."

  "Why didn't you blow the whistle?" Elizabeth said.

  Korov looked blank for a moment.

  "Because it wasn't just Lodge and Dansinger. That is something we must pursue. I believe Dansinger was part of a larger organization and was following their agenda. I also believe they killed him because of your actions. When you attacked his compound and destroyed their stockpiles of the virus, you exposed him. I think they wanted to make sure he couldn't talk."

  "You're saying you didn't go to the President because you wanted to expose a larger plot?"

  "Exactly."

  "Was Lodge part of this organization?"

  "No. I'm sure he wasn't. But I know Dansinger promised him the White House in four years. He told him his friends could assure it."

  Nick remembered what Adam had told him in the back of that armored Cadillac.

  "Jesus," Lamont said. "Who has the power to do that?"

  "Apparently someone who doesn't believe in democracy."

  "Why Russia?"

  "It's the key. If they had succeeded, it would have been the start of a financial and military empire. Think of the strategic position. The Middle East, China, Southeast Asia, Japan, all within easy reach in the future. The oil fields in the Ukraine. Secure power in Russia under a guise of assistance, then have troops in place, then make your move."

  Korov shook his head. "It would never have worked. You do not understand Russia. We would never surrender."

  "I know that, Major. Anyone with an ounce of common sense knows that. But there have been many in the past who thought otherwise. Napoleon. Hitler. No one ever seems to learn from history, when it comes to Russia. None the less, there would have been a long occupation. Good business for the war mongers and death merchants. With someone like Lodge in the White House anything could become possible."

  "What did Lucas know?" It was Stephanie.

  "Only that I was worried about an unknown organization, a potential threat. He knew I was worried about Lodge, but not why. I couldn't risk telling anyone. I'm sure Lodge was monitoring me closely."

  Steph settled back in her chair. Relieved.

  "Was the Pentagon involved?"

  "I hope not, but I don't know. The Black Harvest scenario is part of the bio-warfare planning. I'm certain there's an equivalent Russian war game. The Chinese as well. Everyone sees crops and food supplies as a soft target. A starving nation can be defeated."

  The room was silent for a moment.

  Selena took a breath. "That's criminal."

  "That's war planning. The days of polite warfare are over. If there's a next one it will be total."

  "War is a criminal act."

  "Yes, Major, it is. So why have you and some of the others in this room prepared so well for it?"

  "To defend our nation. From aggressors like Dansinger and Lodge."

  Hood nodded. "Exactly. War initiated may be a criminal act, but war in defense of one's nation is an act of patriotism and honor. Unfortunately, soldiers pay the price for their leaders' greed and bad judgement."

  Elizabeth brought them back into focus. "We're getting off the track. What do you actually know about this organization? Dansinger's?"

  "Not much. There are hints of something but you can't track them down. Financial lines that disappear when you follow them. Political decisions that seem justified but erode freedom everywhere. Economic policies that concentrate wealth in the hands of a few. Cover ups. Facilities that appear intended for one thing but may be for another. Increased surveillance in every city. Much of it is here in the US, but it seems to be international. I know it's powerful and influential. I know it means us and everyone else no good."

  "You are suggesting something along the line of a New World Order conspiracy."

  "That's as good a name for it as anything else. I think the Demeter plot was part of a larger plan."

  "But you have no proof."

  "No."

  "If this group exists, I don't think they're going to be very happy with what's happened in the last few days."

  "I think you can count on that, Director. We'd all better watch our step."

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  Nick, Korov, Lamont and Ronnie sat at a back table in The Point, a bar favored by Special Ops personnel, active and retired. The place was busy. A bottle of vodka sat on the table. Ronnie had a coke in front of him. The others had empty four ounce glasses. Korov poured them full.

  "In Russia, this is how we do it." He held up his full glass. "Na Z'drovnya. To your health." He downed the glass in a single gulp, waited to see if they would follow. Lamont and Nick held their glasses up. Ronnie lifted his coke. He never drank alcohol.

  "Na Z'drovnya. Down the hatch." They drank. Korov filled the glasses again.

  "Down the hatch?"

  "Another idiom. We have lots of them."

  "So do we."

  They sipped.

  "I return to Moscow tomorrow."

  "What did your boss say, when you told him what happened?"

  "He was impressed. As am I. We did not believe you would actually remove your CIA Director. The solution was elegant. He is pleased that the plot has been stopped."

  "What do his bosses know?"

  "That General Vysotsky has acted brilliantly to foil a threat against the Rodina. That the American CIA is in disarray. That one of his agents has successfully engaged with a secretive American intelligence unit and gained their trust."

  "That would be you?"

  Korov placed his hand over his heart and made a slight bow. He drained his glass. Nick filled it, then his own.

  "Yeah, you'll probably get a medal," Lamont said.

  "Maybe I have Vysotsky send you one."

  They laughed. The bar was filling with men. Most of them had the look.

  "This is a good place. If you come to Moscow I will show you a place like this."

  "We might not be welcome."

  "With me, you will be welcome." He made rings on the table with his wet glass.

  "Nick. I hope we are never on, how you say, the opposite side."

  "Maybe this will open a crack in the door. Our nations should not be enemies."

  "But it is the way of things, is it not? When both countries want the same thing, there is trouble."

  "Not if that thing is to our mutual benefit. Like what we did here."

  "If Hood is right," Ronnie said, "we could be working together again. Nothing like a common enemy to make new friends."

  Two hours later the second bottle was empty. Korov was singing a Spetsnaz marching song and trying to teach Nick and Lamont the words. Ronnie just shook his head. They were attracting attention. A large man walked over to them. He'd been drinking. It was the kind of bar where people drank a lot.

  "Who's your Russki friend? He doesn't belong here."

  "You don't like my singing? It's a good song."

  "I don't like Russkis."

  Nick emptied his glass. "This Russki earned the right to be here. So why don't you go finish your drink. I'm trying to learn a song."

  Two more men walked over behind the first.

  "Trouble, Joe?"

  "Just someone who needs to leave. You're leaving, aren't you, pal? With your Russki asshole buddy here."

  Nick sighed. He stood. Korov swayed a little and stood with him. Lamont stood, his arm still in a sling. Ronnie stood up on his crutches. He held one loose in his right hand.

  "You're drunk. Why don't you drop it before you get hurt."

  "Oh, how scary," the big man said. "Two cripples, a Russki and an asshole."

  He swung. Nick blocked it easily with his left arm and hit him with a hard right twice in the face. He felt cartilage break. The man went backward over a table. His friends came in fast. Korov decked one. Ronnie took out the other with his crutch. Lamont watched. The bar erupted into a brawl.

  It took a while to sort out. When it was done, the four of them were on the street. T
hey were told they were no longer welcome at The Point. They were a little worse for wear. Ronnie's shiny new crutch was bent. It made him hobble as he walked.

  "I was getting tired of that joint anyway." Lamont's eye was swelling.

  "Just like Moscow," Korov said. They walked down the street laughing.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

  "What do you think?"

  "Wow. This is great."

  Selena stood with Nick in the living room of her new condo. Her condo, not theirs. Not yet. She'd had some things shipped from San Francisco. The rest was new. New paintings on the walls, new furniture.

  She'd chosen antique rugs with geometric patterns of red and blue and cream. Stylized animals and trees and birds. The kitchen gleamed. A rack of shining pans hung ready over the center island and stove. She'd gone light brown leather for the chairs and couches. A few antiques, flowers. It was comfortable, inviting, a place you could live in and put your feet up. Selena was neat. She wasn't trying for House Beautiful.

  "Wait till you see the bedroom."

  "Why don't you show me?"

  The bedroom was beautiful. A king-size bed with an elaborate headboard, soft pillows, smooth sheets. The Klee hung on the wall over the bed. They undressed. He held her against him. She reached down and took him in her hand. He felt life beating in her chest. Her body was warm. He molded against her, kissed her.

  She pushed him down on the bed. She smiled and bent down to kiss him. He ran his hand down the taut curve of her back, over her buttocks. She lowered herself onto him. They made love slowly, taking their time. Afterwards they lay holding each other. She felt his heart pounding, unspoken tension in his body.

  "Nice bedroom," he said.

  "It's better with you in it."

  "Selena..."

  She got up and put on a green silk robe.

  "I think I know what you're going to say."

  She walked out of the room, came back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. She got back in bed. They sat with their backs against the headboard.

  "So what am I going to say?"

  "You're not ready to live together, are you?"

 

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