“Hold on a minute,” Greeley said.
“Hey, buddy! How are ya?” Mullins laughed.
“Mullins-san! Jesus! Glad you’re okay! I sure appreciate you taking care of Alexandra.”
“She’s a great little lady, Grant.”
“Yeah, she is. I asked Mr. Greeley to keep her at the Embassy for a couple days. Anything beyond that, he’ll have her go to the Berliner, with you as security. Problem with that?”
“I’ll go with the flow, buddy!” Mullins laughed.
“Hey, you haven’t caught hell from those on high for helping us, have you?”
“Negative. Haven’t heard a word so far.”
“Glad to hear it. Tony, listen. We’ve got our passengers but...”
“Whoa! Wait a minute! You got them?” Mullins asked, excitedly.
“Yeah. They were already onboard.”
“Jesus, Grant! You did it!”
“Still got a long way to go before we can fill in our ‘dance card.’ The term ‘dance card’ refers to an AAR, an after action report, used at the completion of a mission.
“Yeah, but still...let me give you early congrats!”
“Hold the thought because we had a change in plans. We had to reclassify our intended transportation as extremely risky. We’ll be heading west and trying to find another mode of transportation. Once we do, may need your help.”
“Talk to me,” Mullins replied.”
“If we run into an emergency situation, we can use frequency 243.0, but give me an alternate channel. Okay. Got it. I’ll use your call sign “Legs.” Mullins had the nickname while an instructor at Combat Swimmers School. “Mine’s ‘Panther.’ I’ve gotta get back to the ‘apartment.’ Where will you be staying?”
“Your favorite place. Hotel Berliner.”
“And the name you’re using?”
“John Smith.”
“John Smith? You shittin’ me?”
“Would I shit you, friend?” Mullins laughed.
“John Smith it is.”
“Listen, Grant, when do you expect to fly?”
“Still on the hunt for our transportation, but hope by early morning.”
“In that case, I’ll take my ‘jammies’ to the chopper and wait for your transmission.”
“Your call,” Grant laughed.
“Give my best to the colonel and Joe.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Stay safe...and watch your back.”
“Wait! Tony, can I be patched through to NIS?” Grant heard Mullins questioning Greeley.
“You want a secure line, Grant?”
“Yeah, if possible.”
While he waited, Grant continued glancing around, watching for anybody out of the ordinary. Anybody trying to duck behind a newspaper, or standing too long in front of a glass window. He waited.
*
The White House
Oval Office
Although it was barely summer, the heat index was close to a scorching ninety-five degrees, with the humidity nearly as high. Without any breeze, gas fumes from thousands of vehicles driving along Pennsylvania Avenue hung heavy in the stillness, leaving an acrid taste in mouths.
Within twenty minutes of getting the phone call, Admiral Torrinson arrived at the White House. President Carr had called an urgent meeting between Torrinson, SECDEF Willard Kruger, Vice President Victor Blakely, and CIA Director Ed Hannigan.
Torrinson waited outside the Oval Office, standing in front of a floor to ceiling window near a secretary’s desk, looking out at the West Colonnade.
Valerie Castle, a petite blond, twenty-seven years old, was an assistant to the President’s secretary, Rachel. She stood at the door to the Oval Office. “Admiral Torrinson.” Torrinson swung around. “You can go in now.” She opened the door and he entered.
SECDEF Kruger was the only one in the room, sitting on one of two beige-striped couches, separated by a glass-top coffee table. He was leaning over the coffee table, scanning a double page document.
Torrinson stepped near the couch. “Mr. Secretary.”
“Oh, Admiral Torrinson. Have a seat,” SECDEF indicated with his hand. Kruger was in his first year as SECDEF. He was sixty-five years old, of medium height, wore round, horned-rimmed glasses, and had mostly gray hair.
“The President and Vice President should join us shortly. I believe they were finishing a call with Russian Premier Gorshevsky.”
Torrinson felt a sudden knot in his stomach, his thought immediately going to Grant and Joe.
Kruger looked beyond Torrinson and stood. Torrinson rose and turned to see the President and Vice President coming into the room. “Mr. President, Mr. Vice President,” he said, respectfully. They don’t look happy, Torrinson grimly thought.
CIA Director Hannigan followed on their footsteps. Hannigan was almost sixty-one years old, and constantly battling a weight problem. Cigarettes and food were his two vices. His dark brown eyes always seemed to be questioning. He was perfect for the job.
Vice President Gerard Blakely approached Torrinson and gave a brief nod and smile. “Admiral.” Blakely, a quiet spoken man, was fifty-eight years old, slim, under 5’8”, with wavy brown hair. Just from his expression one could tell he was still mourning the loss of his wife of thirty years. He took a seat next to Kruger.
President Carr dropped a folder on the coffee table, then extended his hand to Torrinson. “Admiral. Glad you could join us. Sit, please.” He pulled an ornate wooden chair back, then sat on the edge, immediately opening the folder. Getting right to the matter, Carr said, “Admiral, earlier today CIA intercepted a Russian communication. It seems one of their helicopters disappeared from radar around 7:30 PM, Russia time.” Torrinson leaned forward, rubbing his hands together, with a sick feeling growing in his stomach.
Carr continued, “Being the concerned person that I am, I called Premier Gorshevsky to offer our assistance. According to the premier, the aircraft had departed Domodedovo Airport on a scheduled flight. Its first stop was to be Minsk.
“They sent out search aircraft almost immediately. Less than seventy-five miles from Domodedovo, they found pieces of wreckage, or to be more precise, charred pieces wreckage, scattered a quarter of a mile from the main site. Looks like it exploded in midair.” Carr’s distress was obvious. He sat back, then asked Torrinson, “Admiral, have you heard from Captain Stevens yet?”
“Not yet, sir. Mr. President, have any bodies been found?”
Carr shook his head. “Whether they have or not, the premier didn’t give up that information, even after I asked. Nothing was specifically mentioned by either of us about who may have been onboard. With his not committing to answer me, I suspect it may be ‘our’ helicopter, Admiral.”
Silence pervaded the Oval Office, with the same grave concern on each man’s mind. Five American POWs, a KGB officer, and possibly two U.S. Navy officers. Carr spoke. “Admiral, do you have any way to reach the captain?”
“Not directly, sir. I can call the Berlin Embassy and alert the bureau chief. But you can rest assured, Mr. President, that as long as Captain Stevens is able, he will contact me.”
Carr almost hated to pose the question. “And if he doesn’t?”
“Then, Mr. President, we still won’t know for sure. Plans can change. There are too many possibilities, sir. We’ll just have to give it some time.”
Hannigan cleared his throat before saying, “Mr. President, Admiral Torrinson, I’d like to interrupt for a moment. Admiral, do you know Agent Tony Mullins?”
Torrinson gave a slight shake of his head. “Not personally, sir. I only know he’s the agent who notified Captain Stevens when Colonel Moshenko called the Agency. Is there a problem?”
“The problem, admiral, is we haven’t seen or heard from Agent Mullins for a couple of days.”
Torrinson let his words out slowly. “In what way does this have to do with Captain Stevens or the Russian helicopter?”
“We’re still putting pieces together,
but it just seems a little coincidental.”
“Coincidental? I say again, sir...how and what does it have to do with the...?”
Carr held up a hand to stop the conversation before it got “hot and heavy.” The dislike, or competition, between CIA and NIS was ongoing. “Gentlemen, let’s get back on track, okay?” He pushed his sleeve back and glanced at his Bulova. “Admiral, I suggest you head back to your office. When the captain contacts you, or you hear from the Embassy, you call me any time, any hour.”
Torrinson stood, picking up his cap from the coffee table. “I will, Mr. President. I will.” He gave a brief nod to the other three men, then left.
Valerie Castle was hurriedly jotting down a message. She stood as Torrinson closed the door. “Oh, admiral, I have a message here for you.” She tore a piece of pink paper from a small pad, then reached across the desk and handed it to him. Across the top were imprinted words “While You Were Out.”
“Thank you.” Torrinson read the message as he walked toward the exit door, then he spun around. “Miss Castle, is there a phone I can use?”
“Of course. Do you need a secure line?”
“No. I don’t believe so.”
“Then you can use the phone on the table near the sofa.”
Not even bothering to sit, Torrinson dialed his office number.
“Petty Offi...”
“Zach. Tell me!”
“Sir, Captain Stevens just called. He...”
“Did he indicate if he was going to call back?” Torrinson asked anxiously, but definitely relieved.
“Yes, sir, in a half hour.”
“Zach, I’m leaving here as soon as I relay the information to the President. Don’t let Captain Stevens off the line if I’m not there yet. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, sir! Of course, sir!” Connection broken.
Torrinson went back near the door to the Oval Office. “Miss, I really need to get back in there.”
She pressed the intercom button, and Carr answered, “Yes, Valerie?”
“Mr. President, Admiral Torrinson would like to speak with you. He’s waiting by your door.”
“By all means. Send him in.”
“Go right in, admiral.”
As Torrinson entered, Carr stepped away from his desk, immediately recognizing one relieved admiral. “You got a message, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir. Captain Stevens called. He’s calling again in a half hour.”
Carr slapped the side of Torrinson’s arm. “Terrific news!”
“Mr. President, I know I don’t have to remind you, but we still don’t know about the POWs, whether or not they were aboard that helicopter.”
“I realize that, admiral, but at least we should be able to get answers from Captain Stevens. So, don’t just stand there! Off with you! And call me when you’re done. Tell my secretary to find me if I’m not in here!”
*
The Kremlin - Moscow
Office of Premier Nikolai Gorshevsky
Nikolai Gorshevsky stood behind his desk, looking out across the square through a large plate glass window. He fidgeted with keys and change in his trouser pockets, as he reviewed his conversation with the American President. It disturbed him deeply.
The Americans not only knew of the accident, but somehow he was sure they knew of the POWs being onboard, even though they were not specifically mentioned.
Five Americans, presumed dead. Colonel Grigori Moshenko, presumed dead. How could this have happened? What worried him more was who leaked the information about the POWs? His one bargaining chip...no, five bargaining chips to free Boris Chernov from the CIA’s clutches, gone.
Exhaling a long sigh, he turned and rolled a large black leather chair from under the desk. He unbuttoned his dark brown suit jacket before sitting. His dark brooding eyes looked out from beneath gray eyebrows at the two men standing before him.
Dmitri Osokin, Minister of Internal Security and Mikhail Antolov, Director of the KGB, had arrived fifteen minutes earlier. They remained quiet, waiting for the premier to speak.
Gorshevsky pushed aside several sheets of official papers, then rested his elbows on the desk, intertwining his fingers. “Sit,” he said, eyeing both men.
As they settled on the wooden chairs, Gorshevsky didn’t waste any more time to begin the conversation. “Do either of you have any indication this was not an accident?”
The silver-haired Antolov answered first. “Not as of yet. We have soldiers combing the site for any kind of evidence that would denote otherwise. I have my men out there, also.
“According to the airport tower, the aircraft took off not long after I departed the airport. The pilot did not indicate any problem before or during flight.”
“Is it possible a device was placed anywhere on the helicopter while it was waiting for the prisoners?”
Antolov thought very briefly. “I do not think that was likely or possible. Colonel Moshenko would have noticed. I do not believe anyone would have tried with him being there, and surely not in front of a pilot and guards.
“I arrived not long after the prisoners were on the aircraft. I did not see any other vehicles in the area.”
“Then, do you know if this aircraft was inspected prior to arrival at Domodedovo?”
“That is the usual procedure,” Antolov answered simply.
“You did not answer my question.”
“Anytime KGB or Politburo members are to fly, the aircraft are inspected before flight.”
Gorshevsky still didn’t get a definitive answer. “I want a list of names of everyone who was near that aircraft--everyone.”
“I will see to it,”Antolov replied. “I do have a couple of things for us to think about, though.” He shuffled through papers, drawing one out, quickly reviewing times and names.
“And those are?” Gorshevsky replied, curious.
“We interviewed controllers in the airport tower. They reported the aircraft did not request clearance prior to takeoff.”
“And that could mean what?”
“A couple of things, sir. The pilot could have lost communication, but not likely, or the aircraft was taken over by unknown individuals.
“There are unconfirmed reports that men were seen near the aircraft prior to takeoff. These men were not wearing uniforms. If that is the case, sir, then we should find more bodies.”
Gorshevsky sat back, linking his fingers behind his head. “Yes. It is something to think about. Do you think these men are part of that underground group?”
“It is too soon to make that determination, sir. We have not yet received any messages or calls from anyone or any group stating demands.”
“You will follow up, of course.”
“That is already being done.”
“Mikhail, I know this is devastating to KGB, with Colonel Moshenko having been onboard,” Gorshevsky commented.
“Yes. Yes. He was a loyal and respected officer. A man I trusted for years.”
“Have you contacted his wife?”
Antolov shook his head. “No. I would like to wait until we have final confirmation of bodies, if there are any remains to identify.”
Gorshevsky nodded then set his dark eyes on Dmitri Osokin. “Have you started an investigation yet?”
Osokin’s brown eyes looked over the top of his wire-rimmed reading glasses, and he handed a sheet of paper across the desk to the premier. “These are the people I have assigned. I’ve also listed their assignments in the second column.”
Gorshevsky glanced at the list, then swung his chair around, trying to make sense of the incident. He slowly turned around, again facing the two men. “There were very few who knew about the Americans. I do not believe those people had any reason to cause the accident. But, men have turned before, men who never would have been suspected, and for reasons unknown. So, I will leave you two to find out who and why.”
*
NIS
Office of Rear Admiral Torrinson
Torrinso
n stood inside the elevator within inches of the doors, waiting impatiently for them to open. As it lurched to a stop, the doors barely parted when he shoved his hand between them, forcing them open. He immediately broke into a jog. As he rounded the corner, he saw Zach standing by the office door.
“Captain Stevens is holding on the red one, sir. Berlin Embassy is patching him through.”
“Thanks, Zach,” Torrinson said, a little out of breath. He dropped his cap upside down on the desk, then picked up the receiver. “Grant?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where are you? Can you hear me?”
“Yes, sir. I can hear you. I’m at a Metro station in Moscow. It’s a little difficult finding secure phones here, sir,” he replied facetiously.
“Listen, Grant. CIA got word a chopper went down after leaving Domodedovo airport.”
“Suspected it was going to happen, sir. Joe found a device under the fuel tank, and spotted another by the rotors. Didn’t have time to search thoroughly, but just what Joe found was enough. So we got the men and our friend off fast.”
Torrinson couldn’t believe what he heard. The helo was destroyed, and the POWs were safely in Grant’s hands. “How are those men?”
“Haven’t been able to spend much time with them myself, sir, but they appear to be in halfway decent shape, considering.”
“I’m assuming the ‘friend’ is the colonel?” Torrinson asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s next, Grant?”
“Have to rethink another plan, sir. When they find the...”
“The Russians have located it already.”
“Already, huh? Well, expect once it’s dark, they won’t be able to do much more searching and examining, sir. That should give us a head start.
“Look, admiral, I think it’s time for us to get outta here. Don’t know when I’ll make contact with you again, sir.”
“One more thing, Grant. You wouldn’t happen to know where Agent Mullins is, would you?”
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