by Noah Boyd
“So the LCS was getting paid by the Russians to frame me and getting us to pay them two hundred and fifty thousand dollars apiece for no-longer-useful spies.”
“Literally turning debris into a million dollars. At a quarter of a million dollars apiece, I think the LCS would have given up every one of their lesser moles. All they would have to do was make Ariadne’s thread a little longer. So there may not be as many as you would think,” Vail said.
“That makes sense.”
“What’s Matrix-Linx’s contract for?”
Kate took the report back and flipped through a couple of pages. “Ground weapon systems.”
“Our chess players would know that ground weapons systems would be attractive to the Russians. Maybe they heard about the technology and asked the LCS to go find someone to supply it. And let’s not forget that the LCS wanted someone at Matrix-Linx bad enough to travel out of state, where they’re not nearly as comfortable, and go after a guy who apparently wasn’t interested in spying.”
“In other words, when Gaston said no and was presumably killed, they knew they had to find someone else at the same company, and as soon as possible.”
“Okay, Radkay it is. But now we’ve got to prove it. Let’s start with his financials.”
Kate said, “But if, like you said, the LCS was actually paying these guys peanuts, what’s going to show up in his bank statements?”
“Assuming he is the mole, they didn’t have the same time and means to set him up with blackmail as they had with Gaston. Therefore the inducement was probably more money. At least initially. If so, maybe it’ll show in either his bank account or his lifestyle. You don’t commit treason out of the clear blue and say, ‘I’m just going to save the money for a rainy day.’ You start living for today.”
“And what if we don’t find anything?”
“One problem at a time. Can you strip the financial release forms out of Radkay’s report and ‘update’ them?”
Five minutes later Kate held up the altered informational release for Vail to see.
“An impressive forgery,” he said. “I think we’re ready to go.”
“Do you want to take your car?”
He looked at her as if the question had triggered something. He went to the wall and ran his fingers along the documents, stopping occasionally to read something in detail. “I’m an idiot.”
“What?”
“Every time we take my car, we run into the Lithuanians.”
“You think there’s a bug in your car?”
“Some sort of tracking device, yes. It would answer how they were beating us to the moles.”
“But how would they get it on the car?”
“It was probably easy. They knew we were going to trace Calculus’s movements, because that’s what they set us up to do. They could have done it any time we were out of the car. The ones they have now take seconds to attach.”
“I’ll get someone from Technical Services to sweep it.” She dialed a number and then asked for a technician. After a short conversation, she hung up. “He’s going to meet us at one of the surveillance off-sites.” Vail was still studying the wall. His eyes were narrowed in an unusual way. “What are you thinking about?”
“My father.”
“Your father?”
“Like him or not, he did teach me how to get even.”
35
The surveillance squad’s off-site had been carefully selected. The neighborhood was a mix of residential and commercial properties. The building was tucked away, down a side street. The front entrance to the building bore no sign to identify it. A driveway skirted the property, and in the back there was a parking lot containing a half-dozen cars.
The technical agent who met Kate and Vail there was a good fifty pounds overweight, but he slid under the back end of Vail’s car without difficulty. Almost immediately he pulled himself back out holding a small black box about the size of a pack of cigarettes. He handed it to Kate and spoke with a quick, professional authority. “Held in place with magnets. You can buy these anywhere. Companies use them to keep an eye on their vehicles, parents to discreetly watch their teenagers, suspicious wives to check on husbands, just about anything.”
“How is it monitored?” Kate asked.
“If you have a cell phone with a screen, you can load the software into it and you’re ready to go. If not, a laptop works even better.” He climbed under Kate’s car and spent almost ten minutes inspecting it before reemerging. “You’re clean,” he told her.
“Can you set up my phone so I can monitor it?” Vail asked.
“I don’t have the software for this brand. When Kate called, she just said it involved GPS trackers, so I brought a couple.” He opened his case and took out a rectangular box that was half the size of the one he had removed. “This was made to our specifications. No connections, no antennas. You can put it in a glove compartment or anywhere else. It’s extremely sensitive and tracks in real time. It works on a special network the government uses, so it can’t be intercepted.” The tech agent then took two cell phones out of his case. “With these you can follow the transmitter.” He turned on the phones and walked them through the device’s operation.
After he left, Kate held up the cell phone he’d given her and said, “Did you have something in mind with these?”
“Not at the moment, but you know how boys need their toys. We find them reassuring. If I’d had this on the enemy’s car last night, I probably wouldn’t have had to go swimming.”
Vail handed the LCS’s device back to the tech agent. “Put it back under my car.” Kate looked at him questioningly. “I’ll leave it at the off-site and we’ll drive yours. If we turn it off, they’ll know we found it.”
After dropping off Vail’s car, they drove to Radkay’s bank in northwest D.C. When they arrived, Kate went in with the altered release forms while Vail called the radio room and had them query what kind of cars Raymond Radkay drove. There was only one—a Jaguar XKR. Vail didn’t know much about luxury cars, but he had always coveted the Jaguar XKE, first manufactured in the sixties, an exquisite piece of sculpture that also happened to be an automobile. He occasionally checked on the Jaguar’s new models to see if the manufacturer had come to its senses and started building the sleek torpedo again.
According to the rest of Radkay’s FBI background investigation, he was a computer engineer with Matrix-Linx International and made sixty-eight thousand dollars a year. Give or take a few options, that was about the cost of the XKR. Vail asked the radio-room operator to determine when it was first registered. A few seconds later, he was told that the vehicle was first registered, apparently new, last June, two months after Radkay’s co-worker, Maurice Gaston, had disappeared into the Nevada sunset.
Kate came out and got in. “Since last June he’s had a couple of eight- to nine-thousand-dollar deposits in his checking account. He also started renting a safe-deposit box six months ago.”
“The LCS must have handouts telling these guys what to do with their money. He also bought a sixty-thousand-dollar car last June.”
“I guess we should get a court order for the box,” Kate said.
“Actually, with you so blatantly altering that release form, it all becomes fruit of the poisonous tree.”
“You did this on purpose so we’d have no choice but to go and confront him, didn’t you?”
“You give me too much credit. It doesn’t really matter if we get into that box. The most he’s going to have in there is unexplained cash. That hardly makes him a spy. Don’t forget that when we found incriminating evidence in a box before, Calculus had left it for us. We’ve got to get our hands on this guy and turn him.”
“And how are you going to do that?”
“I’ll let him know that all I have to do is get that GPS the Lithuanians are tracking me with to within a hundred yards of him and he’s dead. The choice is relatively simple: a little time in prison for spying or forever in the great darkness beyon
d. We’ll get Luke and go out to his house tonight.”
“So that’s your master plan? You’re going to threaten his life.”
“I’m a man of limited imagination.”
It was dark before the three agents got to Raymond Radkay’s home in Coral Hills, Maryland. Bursaw drove his car, and Kate and Vail rode together in hers.
Radkay’s house was at the end of a cul-de-sac in a new housing development. Although there were several others under construction, his was the only one that had been completed. Vail pulled over in front of one of the partially built residences. “The lights are on, so it looks like he’s home,” Vail said on the radio.
Bursaw asked, “So how do you want to do this?”
“You and Kate wait in your car. I think this will go better if I talk to him alone. I don’t want him to get the feeling we have to gang up on him to get his cooperation. See if you can find a discreet place to watch from. Let me know if you see anyone coming our way.”
“This house behind me has the garage roughed in. I’ll pull in there.” Kate got out of Vail’s car and into Bursaw’s.
Vail pulled into Radkay’s driveway and got out, watching the windows. He walked up the stairs and rang the bell. After a few seconds, a man in his late thirties opened the door. “Can I help you?”
“Raymond Radkay?”
“Yes.”
Vail opened his credentials with a certain amount of authority, indicating that everything Radkay was about to be asked was merely a formality—the FBI already knew the answers.
“Come in.” The engineer stepped back uneasily, and Vail could see that he suspected the reason for the visit.
They went into the living room, and Vail took a seat on the couch while Radkay sat down on a recliner opposite him. “Does this have anything to do with my security clearance?”
Vail laughed condescendingly. “Come on, Ray. The weapons information passed along. The only question I have is how much you knew about Maurice Gaston’s murder.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The Jag, the safe-deposit box, this house. We know about you and the Russians. And the Lithuanians,” Vail bluffed. “Your reaction right now—it’s obvious you realize why I’m here. I’m not going to waste my time. I’m giving you a chance to talk to me before we come back for you, and then it’ll be too late.” Radkay remained silent, and Vail could see the cold logic of an engineer taking over, analyzing his options. “If you tell us about the Lithuanians, we can make your life a whole lot simpler. There’s a big difference between passing along a little technology for a few bucks and being an accessory to murder.”
Radkay said, “Would it do any good for me to ask for a lawyer?”
“I don’t think you were involved in the murder, but do what you want. If you call a lawyer, he’s going to instruct me to leave.” Vail stood up. “And when I do, so does this offer. Then we’ll lump you in with the Lithuanians and you can defend yourself on the murder charges.”
“Okay, okay. What do you want to know?”
Vail sat back down. “First, tell me how you were recruited.”
“I was approached at my apartment one night. They offered me a hundred thousand dollars if I accepted. It was paid the next day, and I was told there would be plenty more. Two days later I gave them a dozen documents, mostly technical data and schematics. As soon as I did, they demanded to know when I could get more. I knew then that I had made the mistake of my life. They told me that they had video recordings of our exchanges, and if that wasn’t convincing enough, they asked me if I wanted to end up like Maury Gaston. I had never associated his disappearance with what I was doing. I knew right then he was dead. It scared the hell out of me. After that their demands were relentless. Believe it or not, I’m relieved. When you introduced yourself, I knew that one way or the other the nightmare was over.”
“It may not be as bad as you think. You have one very large bargaining chip at your disposal—we’re going to need your testimony.”
“Testify? Against them? I told you, they’re crazy.”
“The only other option is prison.”
Radkay stood up. “I need to think. And a drink.” The engineer went over to a hutch and opened the upper cabinet. “There is a third option you know,” he said, his voice suddenly cold, mechanical. “I could just run.” When Vail saw that there were no liquor bottles in the compartment that Radkay was reaching into, he jumped to his feet. As soon as the revolver came out, Vail dove behind the couch and drew his automatic.
Radkay turned and fired, hitting the cushion that Vail had been sitting against. He started to run toward the back door. Vail poked his head above the couch, and Radkay fired again. This time the bullet penetrated the padding and barely missed Vail. “I’ve got people in back,” he lied. “And I parked my car so you couldn’t get out.”
Radkay glanced through the window he was standing next to and saw it was true about the car. “Then I guess I’ll have to take yours.” He started toward Vail and fired another round.
Vail realized he had no other choice now. He stood straight up and fired once, hitting Radkay in the chest. The engineer went down, and Vail hurried over to him. Radkay gurgled briefly, and then his head fell to the side, his eyes still open and blank in death.
The front door flew open, and Kate and Bursaw rushed in with their guns drawn. “You okay?” Bursaw asked.
“Yes, but it looks like I just did the Lithuanians a favor.”
Kate looked at the body and let her weapon drop to her side. “He was our last chance.”
“He may be dead, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still help us.” Vail went into the kitchen and picked up Radkay’s phone on the desk, dialing Kate’s cell phone. When it began to ring, he said, “What does the caller ID say?”
“R. Radkay,” she said. “With the phone number.”
“I’ll be right back.” Vail went out to his car and brought back his briefcase. Shuffling through its contents, he found the business card Alex Zogas had given him for the Lithuanian Chess Society. He also took out the two GPS tracker phones the technical agent had given him and handed them to Kate and Bursaw.
After holding a finger to his lips, he dialed the LCS number into Radkay’s phone. “Is Alex there? This is his guy from Matrix-Linx.” Then, in a whiny voice, Vail said, “Well, tell him that the FBI was at my bank today. Tell him I’m freaking out and need him to call me right away.” Vail hung up.
“What are you doing?” Kate asked.
Vail grabbed Radkay’s body under the arms and dragged him inside the room that was farthest from the front door. “Making lemonade.”
36
An hour and a half later, the two men that Alex Zogas had dispatched from the Lithuanian Chess Society turned onto Raymond Radkay’s street. Slowing down, they allowed their car to run at idle speed while they checked the other partially built homes in the development for vehicles. There were none. They switched off the car’s headlights and dialed Radkay’s number. “Hello.”
They hung up, increasing their speed toward the house. There was a light on in a first-floor window. They pulled into the driveway, got out, and walked to the front door. It was locked. The bigger of the two men took a short crowbar from under his coat and placed it in the jamb. Following a short, quick pull, a loud metallic crack echoed through the empty neighborhood and the door was pushed open.
Inside, it was completely dark. Both men drew their guns and stepped into the foyer. As they approached the stairs, a shot rang out. The muzzle flash had been to their left. Instinctively, they moved away from each other, firing in the direction of the blast. They leapfrogged toward the shooter, continuing to fire. Then, during one of the pauses, they heard a body hit the hardwood floor. One of them snapped on a flashlight and saw that Radkay had been hit once in the chest. “Okay, let’s get him out of here.”
After carrying the body out to their car and putting it in the trunk, they tossed their handguns in, too.
Five minutes later Kate and Bursaw pulled up to Radkay’s house in the two Bureau cars, and Vail came out. He jumped in with Kate, who had one of the GPS cell phones open in her hand. “Looks like they’re heading for 95 South. Where did you put the tracker?”
“I taped it to the small of Radkay’s back. They’ll have to strip him to find it. Just make sure you keep enough distance between us so you can’t see them. Then they won’t be able to see us.”
She handed Vail the phone. He picked up the radio mike. “Luke, have you got them?”
“I’ve got them five-by.”
“Just stay behind us, I’ll watch the screen.”
“Any trouble inside?”
“Just picking Radkay up and dropping him while they were shooting at us.”
“I know Radkay didn’t mind, but for you I would strongly recommend therapy.”
The two men from the LCS got in the right lane of 95 South and maintained the speed limit. It took them over an hour to reach Route 30, exiting onto the eastbound ramp.
“The two last night must have been going to the same spot,” Bursaw said over the radio. “Think they’re going to that lake again?”
“If they’re not, that means last night was a contingency plan, which would be impressive.”
“It would be if they weren’t dead. Besides, these people are chess masters—supposedly. Chess is contingency planning at its purest.”
Vail watched the cell phone as the car drove past the turnoff where the shoot-out had taken place the night before. “They just passed the lake turnoff,” he told Bursaw.
“So far so good.”
After another fifteen minutes, Vail said, “Okay, they’re turning off.”
When Kate reached the point where they had turned, she pulled onto the shoulder of the road, and Bursaw parked behind her. He got out and climbed into their backseat. “Up there by the mailbox is where they turned in,” Vail said. “It looks like private property.” Glancing at the cell phone, he said, “They stopped about a quarter of a mile in.”