Asset

by Jack Kassinger

  “That would be right based on what Nina has told us,” stated Rick.

  Mike continued. “Allison told me the news story this morning contained a segment by the police who gave a telephone number to call if anyone had relevant information pertaining to his death and that RT News was offering a reward for anyone with information leading to an arrest.”

  “That’s interesting,” Nina said. “The top executive at the station didn’t like Alex very much, and he’s tight when it comes to spending money.”

  “Noted,” stated Mike as he continued with his supposition.

  “You told me earlier that the apartment manager knew that you and Mr. Brzezinski were friends and that she knew he came to your apartment frequently. That correct?”

  “Yes, but not as frequently as you are implying.”

  “OK, but he was there the night before last, and it’s possible she saw him going up to your apartment floor. Do you think she knew that he was married?”

  “Yes, I think she would have known. He was well known and probably seen in public with his wife.”

  “Assuming that she knew that he was married and if she saw him going to up to your apartment the other night, she might have suspected that you two were having an affair. Let’s say that she watched the news this morning and learned of the cash reward being offered for information leading to an arrest. If she suspected an affair between you two, she might well have concluded that his wife had motive for wanting him dead. If that is the case, and if I were her, I would have called the police to tell them what I knew.”

  “I don’t know. That’s a lot of conjecture, Mike,” stated Rick, always getting his two cents in.

  “Perhaps so, but if she called the police, they could have gone to RT News to question Nina, and with her not being there, they could have gone to her apartment to further investigate. The manager could have let them into Nina’s apartment to have a look-see. It’s possible they saw the cell phone on the foyer table and, through inspection, discovered that it was Brzezinski’s phone.”

  Mike was almost certain that he had it right.

  “The police probably told the apartment manager to call if or when she saw Nina coming home and to report anything she saw. She could have seen us and called the police. That would be the reason she came running out of the building to discover where Nina was heading.”

  “I think you’ve about got me convinced now,” stated Rick. “So, I say again, what do we do about it?”

  “Nothing. We don’t do anything. We just complete the op as planned and get the hell out of Russia.”

  Mike noticed a frown on Rick’s face, causing him to wonder about his concern.

  The night passed without any further action, including activities pertaining to the team—that is, except for the shift changes that took place during the night at the farmhouse. At the Shamrock Pub, a waitress picked up a wallet that had fallen to the floor. She handed it back to the old man who had come in just minutes earlier.

  “You’re in time for the last call,” she said, not paying much attention to his face or the picture ID displayed on the open face of the wallet she handed him.

  Spasibo, he said. “I can use a drink. It’s been a long evening and it’s cold out there.”

  ***

  Mike had risen early. It was Friday morning, and he had lots to think about ops-wise as he walked to the barn to assume his watch. Charlie was expecting him, and after a few brief words and giving Mike the night vision goggles, Charlie hustled back to the house, hoping to get a few hours of sleep while there was still time. Mike moved about the barn, using his small infrared flashlight to check things out and then sat for a spell. Later, he put the NVGs on and walked outside to scan the surrounding area. There was nothing to be seen but the dark of the night. He thought of Marcie, wondering how her trip was going. She was his soul mate and he missed her, but no one would never know it because Mike never talked about family while on an assignment. He pushed the doors of the barn to have a good view of the farmhouse and then found a place to sit. An hour later, Mike saw a light come on in the house. Someone was up early. A short while later, he saw the door open and an individual come out. He strained to see who it was. Dawn was breaking as he watched Rick walking toward the barn.

  Rick walked in and found Mike sitting on a bale of hay, twiddling a piece of straw. He handed Mike a cup.

  “I like to return favors. Be careful. It’s still pretty hot.”

  “Thanks,” Mike said, taking the oversized cup and removing the lid. Steam rose from the cup and with it came the smell of freshly brewed coffee. He carefully took a sip and rested the cup at his side on the bale while holding the handle to keep it from falling over.

  “Well, today’s the big day,” Rick stated, while casually walking about the front of the barn. “If Mauldin’s sitting out there on the bench like we expect him to be, this will be as easy as taking candy from a baby.”

  Mike sensed that Rick brought him the coffee for a reason and not just to return a favor. He looked at him.

  “I hope that’s the case. I’d like for us to be heading back to the cabin this afternoon with nothing but Mauldin to worry about.”

  “Speaking of worrying,” Rick said, “I saw the look on your face last night after you said good night to Nina. I think you were probably thinking the same thing that I’ve been thinking about this morning.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?”

  “Ah, come on, Mike. You know as well as I do, given what’s happened, that she’s at risk, and we have to do something about it; otherwise, she could end up in prison.”

  “It’s not for me or you to decide her future,” Mike stated.

  “Bullshit! I’m not talking about her future. I’m talking about her immediate safety. She’s a member of the team. If it were me or one of the other SEALs, this wouldn’t even be the subject of our conversation.”

  “No, it wouldn’t be, but that’s not the case. She’s an asset. Besides, she’s got a mind of her own and may look at things completely different than we do.”

  “I know from listening to some of your conversations, Mike, that the agency takes care of its people—including its assets. I’m certain you’re concerned about her safety, so why the hesitation to do something about it?”

  Mike didn’t have an immediate answer, or if he did, he didn’t want to share it with Rick. He just sat there twiddling the piece of straw. Finally, Rick spoke again to get his attention.

  “I think we need to talk to her about it. I can do that if you want me to.”

  Mike looked up at Rick. “No. We’re not going to talk to her about it. If she approaches me and speaks of concern for her safety, then I’ll consider taking it up the chain of command, but we don’t say anything to her about leaving the country with us. Am I clear on this?”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Rick. Keep your focus on the op and your men, and let me take care of handling Nina’s situation.”

  Rick turned his back to Mike and then turned around just as quickly.

  “OK, you’re in charge, but I’m voicing my opposition to your decision,” he said with a tone of finality in his voice.

  “I hear you. Your concern has been duly noted.”

  Rick walked out and headed back to the house, pissed that he couldn’t do anything about Nina’s situation.

  Chapter Fourteen

  SORM

  Some of the Western spy chiefs in Moscow were declared, officially identified, to the FSB. The CIA station chief fell into that category, and he knew that his embassy and home telephone calls were being monitored by the service. To him, it was an annoying and useless effort by the FSB to identify the undeclared spies that operated under his supervision—the ones doing the real spy work. And even though the effort seldom paid any dividends, the FSB still had an analyst monitoring his calls in real time around the clock.

  SORM, the FSB’s sophisticated, computerized, telephonic surveillance system, is the means by which mo
st meaningful intelligence was collected inside Russia. The System for Operative Investigative Matters is housed deep with the Operational Control Center at Lubyanka—the FSB’s central headquarters—and continuously monitors all incoming and outgoing telephone calls made throughout the country. The system uses a voice recognition program (VRP) that can detect suspicious calls in four different languages: English, French, German, and Spanish. Within nanoseconds of detecting certain words, phrases, or idioms, the VRP will initiate a recording of the conversation and save it to a file for analytical review by one of the many analysts who work within the center.

  Serge, the SORM shift supervisor, was returning to his desk. He had just attended a briefing at the beginning of his twelve-hour, noon-to-midnight shift. It was going to be a busy afternoon for him and the other men and women working at the center, and he didn’t need any distractions. However, when Serge entered the computer room, it felt as though the temperature had risen a few degrees from what it was before he left to attend Captain Lubikov’s briefing. He checked the thermostat, and sure enough, the temperature was up five degrees. He hurried to his desk and called the engineering section to report the rise in temperature. Someone needed to check the airflow and get the temperature back down. It would be his ass if the large bank of computers, situated on the far side of the room, automatically shut down because of a lack of adequate air conditioning. Serge was relieved when the duty engineer informed him that more air was already being pumped into the room; they had received the alarm and were taking care of the matter.

  Serge looked at the large monitor on a wall displaying a digitized map of Russia. Several small red lights were flashing, and the name of a city appeared below, above, or beside each flashing light. SORM was actively monitoring and recording a number of calls. The map with the flashing lights was part of the system to provide a visual aid of locations where suspicious calls were being detected; however, it had nothing to do with the actual recording of calls or the analytical review of recordings that were made by SORM.

  Serge had been a shift supervisor for the past two years. He was continually impressed by the updates made to SORM’s voice recognition capability. However, the system could only detect and record a suspicious call; it took human intervention to analyze and reason whether the number of a given caller or recipient should be further surveilled—that was the responsibility of the center’s language analysts, whom he supervised. When listening to an audio file, if something nefarious was suspected, the reviewing analyst would forward the file to Serge to review. Perhaps three or four times a shift he’d have to take the information contained in a recording to the shift captain for possible follow-on action by him or another department within the center. Serge was thankful that he no longer had to worry about monitoring and recording Western Embassy telephone calls, which was his previous responsibility before being promoted to his current position. Those calls were manually recorded and uploaded to SORM for future use.

  He looked at the map and noticed a new flashing red light at Saint Petersburg.

  What the hell is going on down there, he thought.

  After the call was transcribed, Serge decided to provide the information to the shift captain.

  “Is it any good?” the captain asked after Serge handed him the transcript.

  “I don’t know, sir. The call was made internationally and is between a diplomat assigned to the American Embassy and a woman in Saint Petersburg. SORM recognized the diplomat’s voice from previous calls he’d made from the embassy.”

  Captain Lubikov read the transcript.

  Diplomat’s voice: Hello.

  Female voice: Hi, babe, it’s me.

  Diplomat’s voice: Hi, how you doing, lover girl? Did you have a good day at work?

  Female’s voice: Not so, good.

  Diplomat’s voice: What’s the matter? You sound distressed.

  Female’s voice: Trouble at the office. On top of that, I was to meet my girlfriend at the park near the college to go for a walk before going to dinner. Her boyfriend, who is also her boss, has been a pain in the butt for her, and it’s starting to bug me as well. He’s becoming really jealous of her activities. Today, he followed her like he was some gumshoe detective as she was coming to meet me. I stopped him from harassing her. I intervened and slapped him so hard that the ring you gave me hit him against his temple, and he had to take a seat on a nearby bench. We decided that she should take him to the doctor… is there an echo on this line? I thought I heard an echo.

  Diplomat’s voice: Yes, there was a brief echo, but it’s gone now, babe.

  Female’s voice: Well, anyway, my girlfriend got her car, and she’s taking him to the doctor now. I’m going to check in on them later.

  Diplomat’s voice: I guess it was a rough day, dear, and I understand. Why don’t you go ahead with your plans to visit them and give me a call later when you have more time. The doctor will probably want to keep him sedated for a while anyway.

  Female’s voice: OK. I’ll call you later. Bye-bye.

  END OF TRANSCRIPT.

  “OK, Serge, what is it about this intercept that has caught your attention?”

  “Nothing much, Captain, only that it was an American diplomat making the call.”

  “That will be all. Thank you, Serge.”

  Captain Lubikov read the transcript again after Serge left. It seemed odd to him that an American diplomat stationed in Moscow would be making an international call to a woman in Saint Petersburg. He put the transcript down and turned his attention to other business.

  A short while later, Serge was back meeting with Captain Lubikov. Serge had another transcript he thought the captain should take a look at.

  “It’s the same voices, the American diplomat and the woman he was talking to in the earlier transcript that I brought to you.”

  Lubikov took the transcript and read the details.

  Diplomat’s voice: Hello.

  Female’s voice: It’s me again. My girlfriend has called with a problem. The patient is no longer a concern; he’s TFU.

  Diplomat’s voice: What did you say?

  Female’s voice: You heard me, right? Our concern is no longer with us; he’s TFU.

  Diplomat’s voice: Did she say anything else?

  Female’s voice: She’s sure of being clean.

  Diplomat’s voice: That’s good. Different subject for you. Why not take the cargo to the dock, and let them deal with it?

  Female’s voice: Take the cargo to the dock. Oh, OK, I’ve got it. I’ll send something to you later tonight. Good-bye.

  END OF TRANSCRIPT.

  “I don’t see much to these calls, Serge, but I’ll let the shift captain in Saint Petersburg know about them.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  An hour later, more calls had been recorded, so Serge went back to the captain’s office with more transcripts, but this time, he wasn’t there. Serge returned to his desk and worked on another transcript. He finished two more and decided to check on the captain again. He was there this time. Serge stood in front of the open door and knocked. Captain Lubikov looked up to see him.

  “What the hell is it this time, Serge?”

  “More transcripts, sir. It’s the same voices that keep popping up in intercepts—the diplomat and the woman in Saint Petersburg—and another intercept by the female to a new voice, another male.”

  “Give me the damn transcripts,” Lubikov said and started reading one of them.

  Diplomat’s voice: Hi. Just spoke with the chain. We need to make a few changes to the plan. First, the cargo needs to be disposed of at another place, not at the dock, someplace that “T” thinks will be a suitable location. Chain is concerned about a missing cargo investigation and thinks people might start asking a lot of questions. You good on this point?

  Female’s voice: Got it. What else?

  Diplomat’s voice: Chain wants to know if TL has any concerns about continuing, and, if not, you are to put on additional coverage, just
to be extra cautious during the move. I’m to get back to chain tomorrow morning with an update from you. Oh, I’ll also be sending you some more instruments for their use. Any questions?

  Female’s voice: No. I’m good. I’ll call you tomorrow. Good night, handsome.

  END OF TRANSCRIPT.

  Captain Lubikov picked up another transcript.

  Male’s voice: Hello.

  Female’s voice: Yes, hello. I tried to call you earlier. Everything OK?

  Male’s voice: Yes, just needed some quiet time while waiting for LOCAL.

  Female’s voice: Is she there?

  Male’s voice: Yes, she just got here a few minute ago.

  Female’s voice: I take it that you know about the cargo?

  Male’s voice: Yes, but I don’t have the details yet.

  Female’s voice: OK… Have her tell you what happened and then call me back. The chain wants your thoughts about continuing, and don’t dispose of the cargo until we talk again.

  Male’s voice: Understood. Will call back later.

  END OF TRANSCRIPT.

  Captain Lubikov looked at Serge as he picked up the last of the latest transcripts.

  Female’s voice: Hello, again. Thanks for getting back to me so quickly. What’s the decision?

  Male’s voice: We’re still on, but we have some minor concerns. I think we need some additional support coverage. Can you make that happen?

  Female’s voice: That requirement has already been discussed and authorized by the chain. I’m taking care of it. Details will be provided at a later time. As for the cargo, you are to take delivery and move it to someplace in the city. There’s concern about a follow-on cargo investigation. Do you understand possible implications?

  Male’s voice: Completely. Anything else?

  Female’s voice: Yes. Call me first thing tomorrow morning with an update.

  Male’s voice: Will do.

  END OF TRANSCRIPT.

  “What the hell? There is definitely something going on down there in Saint Petersburg, Serge, and it has something to do with stolen cargo, which could be the navy’s. If there are any more calls made between these parties, let me know, but pass the action to Captain Kasikov in Saint Petersburg. I’ve already informed him of some suspicious activity taking place down there.”