by David Archer
The message came through a short time later that the whale watch was being cut short. The explosion had frightened the pod, they were told, and it was necessary to abort and head back to Vladivostok Port. Dave turned the boat around and followed the rest as they all did as they were told.
It wasn’t long before they were passed by a half-dozen high-speed boats, all racing out to the scene. The sharks would have done their job long before any potential rescuers could arrive, and there would be nothing to recover as far as remains. While sharks might leave a leg or an arm behind in movies, a true feeding frenzy would leave nothing uneaten. Some of those sharks were big enough to swallow a human head whole, so Jenny was looking forward to returning home the following day. Kalashnikov was no longer her problem.
The day had begun early, but it had ended much earlier than expected. As a result, they were back in port by one o’clock in the afternoon, but then they had to wait their turns to be questioned by the police about the explosion. They all told exactly what they’d seen and were finally released at just about two thirty.
They made it back to the hotel an hour later. The news of the disaster had preceded them and a number of people in the lobby were talking about it. Jenny and Randy spoke of having actually witnessed the explosion and sinking and made a point of telling everyone that it had ruined their entire vacation. They would be going home the following day, they said, and hoped never to return to Vladivostok.
This was precisely the behavior the locals would expect from “entitled” Americans, so no one paid much attention. They were ignored as they got into the elevator, and were completely unprepared when they stepped into Jenny’s room to find four FSB agents waiting for them.
All four men had guns drawn and aimed at them, and six more appeared from adjacent rooms. Jenny and the men were hustled inside and forced to sit on the beds, while an FSB Captain took a chair from the table and sat in it, facing them.
“My name is Captain Evgeny Dimitrovitch,” the captain said. “I'm with the Federal Security Service. Our Deputy Defense Minister has been assassinated. What do you know of this?”
Randy, since he was supposed to be the only married man in the group, shook his head. “Defense minister? What are you talking about? We’re not from around here, why would we know anything about that?”
Dimitrovitch grinned at him. “I suppose you also know nothing of the deaths of his security detail? Two men were brutally murdered in this hotel sometime last night, men who were assigned with the task of protecting the minister. The security cameras on both of those floors were mysteriously malfunctioning at the time, so we were not able to get any footage showing who entered or left their rooms, but there are some guests in this hotel that you Americans would refer to as ‘nosy neighbors.’ One of them happened to look out her door last night and saw a beautiful young blonde woman walking through the hallways wearing only a man’s shirt. She had something under her arm, as well, but we're not sure what that might have been. All we know is that when the nosy woman was shown photographs of other women who were guests of the hotel, she pointed to the photo of your wife.” He looked pointedly at Jenny. “She says there is no doubt in her mind that this was the woman she saw leaving the room. On the basis of this information, we obtained authorization to search your rooms. During the search, we found a number of pistols and an interesting knife, along with the computer that seems to have the capability of accessing the security network of this hotel.”
One of the other agents in the room said something in Russian to the captain, and then he turned back to Randy. “Mr. Stewart,” he said, “it gives me no pleasure to inform you that an American spy has just been arrested. You see, when you came under suspicion, we began looking at everyone with whom you've had contact since you arrived in Vladivostok. Your driver, the man who brought you to the hotel yesterday, is an agent of the American CIA. We know this, because the regular driver confessed that he had accepted money in return for allowing another man to use his shuttle. He was able to identify that man from the lineup of photographs we presented to him, and so we've arrested Anthony VanHorn. Mr. VanHorn was, until today, employed in the public affairs division of the U.S. Consulate General’s office here in Vladivostok.”
Dimitrovitch held up a photo of VanHorn. “This is Mr. VanHorn. Do you recognize him?”
Randy screwed up his face, staring at the picture as if confused. “Never seen the guy, far as I know. Why? What is this all about?”
Dimitrovitch grimaced. “You see, Mr. Stewart, while the video was not working on the upper floors last night, the security video in the lobby was working just fine when you arrived yesterday. It was working so well, in fact, that we were able to get a clear image of all of you getting out of the shuttle, and of Mr. VanHorn posing as your driver as he helped you unload your luggage.”
“So? Do you think we pay attention to every cab driver? I'll bet if you ask every guest in his hotel, not one in ten would be able to recognize a picture of the driver who brought them here. Human nature, Captain. We don’t pay attention to people who are not personally important to us, you know?”
Dimitrovitch nodded. “And of course, you failed to pay attention to the fact that you left the shuttle with one more piece of luggage than you had when you entered it at the airport. Yes, the security cameras were working just fine, there. The four of you checked a total of nine bags on the aircraft, and we found footage of you picking up nine bags when you arrived. Nine bags were loaded into the shuttle, and yet, somehow, ten bags were unloaded when you arrived at the hotel. Now, considering the fact that we've found weapons that could not possibly have come with you on your flight, it's not difficult for us to imagine that those weapons were in the tenth bag. Can you follow my logic?”
Randy shook his head. “Not really,” he said. “I don’t know anything about a tenth bag, and I certainly don’t know anything about any weapons. If you found any kind of weapons in my room, I've got to believe somebody planted them there. Or is that what this is all about? You Russian cops like to plant evidence on Americans, so you can lock us up? I've heard stories about that kind of thing, but I didn’t believe it until now.”
Dimitrovitch stared into his eyes for several seconds, then turned his gaze on Jenny. “Mrs. Stewart,” he said. “You have been awfully quiet. Do you deny that you went to visit another room last night? A room on the top floor of the hotel?”
Jenny cut her eyes to Randy for a second, then turned them back to Dimitrovitch. “I certainly did not,” she said. “I'm a respectable married woman. I certainly wouldn’t be going to some other man’s room, especially with my husband here with me.”
Dimitrovitch burst out laughing. “Oh, forgive me,” he said, “but this is becoming rather comical. I already have enough evidence to arrest the four of you for the assassination of Anton Kalashnikov, and the collateral murders of his wife and children, and the charges against you will include espionage. This is inevitable, since you were seen in the company of a known American spy who provided you with weapons. Such charges will only result in the death penalty, but you can spare yourself that fate by confessing.”
Suddenly, one of the other agents swung his fist, striking Dave Lange on his right ear. Dave fell onto the floor, and began retching. The agent kicked him twice, and Jenny saw him spit blood onto the carpet.
“Stop it,” she shouted, but two of the other men grabbed her as she tried to get to her feet. Randy reached out for one of them, but then a fist connected with the back of his own head and he pitched forward onto the floor.
“Enough,” Dimitrovitch said, and the agents backed off. Jenny pushed herself back up to a sitting position and glared at him.
“The famous Russian torture? I've read all the stories about how Americans get tortured when they're arrested here. Is that what we've got to look forward to?”
“Ah, Mrs. Stewart,” Dimitrovitch said with a grin. “Does every respectable married woman in America have so much fire?” His grin faded
away. “You are foreign agents, and your assassination of Minister Kalashnikov can be construed as an act of war against Russia. That is not up to me, however. I am only going to place the four of you under arrest, and you will be transported to Moscow for interrogation.”
He rose to his feet and twirled a finger in the air. “Bring them all,” he said. The other agents forced them all onto their feet, two of them supporting Randy, and Dimitrovitch led the way to the elevator.
When the doors opened again, Jenny saw that they were in the basement of the building. They were led toward the rear of the structure, where a flight of stairs led up to an alley. An FSB van was waiting there and they were shoved inside. Four of the agents climbed in with them while the others shut the doors. The engine started and the truck began moving only a moment later.
Jenny sat close to Randy, holding him as his head lay on her shoulder. “It’ll be okay, honey,” she said. “It will all be okay. They’ll figure out what’s going on, don’t worry. They’ll probably let us go tomorrow, and we’ll go straight home, okay?”
He grunted, but said nothing else.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Noah! Noah, get up!” Neil’s voice rang through Noah’s bedroom window, and Noah woke and was out of bed instantly.
“Front door,” he called out. As Sarah stirred and leaned up on an elbow, Noah pulled his pants on and hurried into the hallway. He snapped open the front door and Neil rushed through it, grabbed him by the shoulders and looked into his face. Noah saw tears, and grabbed the boy and led him to the kitchen table. “What’s going on, Neil?” As he got Neil into a chair, he glanced at the clock on the coffeemaker and saw that it was one A.M.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Neil said, “so I was just surfing the Internet, playing around, and I came across the news. Noah, Jenny’s been arrested as a spy and assassin in Russia, the whole team has been arrested.”
Anyone else would have expressed doubt, would have tried to claim that there was an error, but Noah was not anyone else. “Stay here,” he said, and he rushed back to his bedroom. Sarah was wrapping herself in a bathrobe as he grabbed his phone.
“What’s going on?” Sarah asked.
“Team Cinderella has been arrested in Russia,” Noah replied, and then he hurried back to the kitchen. He had dialed Allison’s direct line on the way and was holding the phone up to his ear when he got there.
“How the hell did you find out already?” Allison asked as she answered the phone.
“Neil. He found it on the Internet and came to wake me up. What’s the situation?”
Allison sighed deeply. “He probably knows as much as I do, maybe more. I don’t know the whole situation, but Jenny and the team were arrested on a charge of conspiring to assassinate Kalashnikov, carrying out the assassination, a total of four charges of espionage and at least three charges of murder. I've got the State Department looking into it, but—Noah, they can only do so much. The Secretary of State has no choice but to disavow them. How is the kid holding up?”
Noah looked at Neil. “Not well,” he said. “What else can we do?”
The sigh came again. “Nothing,” she said. “I hate it, Noah, but this is one of the risks of our business.”
Neil could hear her voice through the phone, and he reached out and tried to snatch it away from Noah. Noah kept it out of reach, but Neil started shouting. “We have to go after them,” he yelled. “We have to go get them, Noah. You tell her, you tell that bitch we're going after them!”
“Oh, God, Noah,” Allison said. “Maybe it was a mistake to allow romantic relationships in the teams. It's bad enough we’re going to lose Jenny and her guys, but I don’t know if Neil will survive it.”
Noah’s mind was bouncing back and forth between Allison and Neil, considering both of their points of view. “What about a rescue mission? Let me take my team and go get them.”
“Noah, there’s no way. State says they’ll be transported to Lefortovo prison, that's where all suspected spies are taken. The place is about as impregnable as it can get.”
“It's not,” Neil said. “Tell her it's not impregnable, I can find a way in. I can get us in, we can get them out. Tell her, Noah.”
Sarah came into the kitchen and sat down beside Neil, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Noah looked at her for a moment, then spoke again to Allison.
“We can do it,” he said confidently. “I trust Neil to find the weakness in the building, and if we can’t get them out that way, we’ll find another way.”
“Noah, I could never get approval. There’s no way the president would ever…”
“You don’t need his approval,” Noah said. “You told me that the first day we met. As director of E & E, you're autonomous. Let me take my team and go rescue them.”
“Noah, this isn’t like you. Of all people, I'd expect you to understand the logical necessity of disavowals.”
“I do,” Noah said. “At the same time, I know the value of these assets, and that the organization can’t afford to lose them. I believe that my team can successfully bring them out. If I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t ask for the mission.”
He heard her take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Talk to me after I know more,” she said. “Understand this: even if I agree, it may be necessary for me to simply look the other way. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“High noon, my office. God, we’re working on Saturday!” The line went dead.
Noah dropped the phone onto the table and looked at Neil. “She won’t give me an answer right now,” he said. “We’re supposed to be at her office at noon.”
Neil put his head in his hands, shaking it from side to side. “I can’t leave her there, Noah,” he said. “You went back for Sarah, you went after her more than once. I can’t leave Jenny there.”
Noah looked at Sarah, who was staring into his face. “We’re not going to leave her there,” he said. “With or without authorization, we're going to rescue them, but that means being at the top of our game. For that, we need rest. Neil, Sarah and I are going back to bed. You can stay here if you want, just use the couch. Try to sleep.” He reached out for Sarah’s hand and led her back toward the bedroom.
“Maybe I should stay up with him,” Sarah said as they got down the hall.
“No,” Noah said. “If he’s going to be of any use to us, he has to get himself under control. The best thing for him right now is to stay quiet, force himself to think. If he believes we're sleeping, he’ll do that.”
Sarah followed him into the bedroom and they got undressed and back under the covers. A minute later, she heard Noah’s breathing slow as he drifted off to sleep once again. She envied him the ability to sleep at will, but she was surprised to realize that she was also falling asleep only a dozen minutes later.
Neil was asleep on the couch when they rose at seven, and they left him there as they made coffee. Sarah started breakfast a few minutes later, and the aroma of bacon woke him. He came walking into the kitchen a moment later, poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table beside Noah.
“I slept a little bit,” he said. “I couldn’t decide whether to stay here or go back home, but I figured you had a reason for wanting me here. I need to go get my computer, though.”
“Drink your coffee first,” Noah said. “You look a little shaky.”
“Just my nerves,” Neil said, trying to force a grin. “Noah, man, I don’t know what I'll do if we can’t pull this off.”
Noah only nodded. A moment later, Sarah set a plate of bacon and eggs in front of Neil and he began eating. She gave Noah a plate and then made her own before sitting down with them.
They ate in silence, and Neil left half his food on the plate. He got up without a word and walked out the door, but was back ten minutes later with his laptop. He set it on the table and powered it on, scanning for any further news stories about the arrested team.
“They’re being flown to Moscow today,” he sa
id. “Actually, they're already on the way. Vladivostok is seventeen hours ahead of us, so it's already past midnight, there.”
“That's in Vladivostok,” Noah said. “Moscow is only ten hours ahead of us. Takes about nine hours to fly from Vladivostok to Moscow, so they may have already arrived.”
Neil rubbed his hands vigorously through his hair. “I can’t hang on until noon, Noah,” he said. “Can’t we call her now? She’s bound to know something.”
“She said noon,” Noah said. “That's when we’ll go. In the meantime, I want you to start looking at how we can get to them inside that prison. It will help if we have a basic plan ready to present.”
Neil sighed and started working on the computer. Noah and Sarah watched him silently for several minutes, but then he turned the computer around so they could see the monitor.
“This is what Lefortovo looks like from the outside,” he said. “It was built in the late eighteen hundreds, and it's been used by the KGB and every other version of the Russian Secret Police. It will be a very tough nut to crack, but nothing is impossible.”
“Can you get any idea of where they would be held inside it?” Noah asked.
“There's a section of the prison that's devoted to spies,” Neil said. “It's on the second floor, and it's probably the most secure part of the whole facility. I haven't found blueprints of the building yet, but give me time and I will.”
Noah nodded. “Give me all the information you can on staff, as well. I want to know how many guards we're looking at, what kind of office staff they have, everything. Look at every possible entrance and exit, no matter how small. I'm going to drag Wally in on this, and every gadget we can get our hands on to help us.”
“You were serious, then?” Neil asked. “What you said last night, about going in no matter what the Dragon Lady says?”