“They are. I talked to the lead agent. He said they were doing all the usual checks and that he hoped any threat or rumor would turn out to be a hoax. Hope is not a very compelling strategy in my book.”
“Agreed. See you in a few hours,” Dom said and hung up.
Brett had one more idea. He texted Samantha to tell her he was coming and would arrive before her speech. He had no idea what her reaction would be. Would it make her feel more secure to know he was close by? Or would it make her feel that there really was a threat he was worried about and that she should be doubly concerned about it too? He’d have to deal with all of that tomorrow.
He walked out of Dom’s office, took the elevator to the garage, and retrieved his car. As he drove home, he wondered if he would make it there in time to prevent a disaster, or if this truly was all in his head.
FORTY-ONE
WEDNESDAY EVENING;
JACKSON, WYOMING
TOURISTS, HIKERS, AND LOCALS LINED up on the tram platform at the base of one of the tallest ski runs in Teton Village. Even though early evening shadows streaked across the landscape, there was still time to ride to the top of Rendezvous Mountain, wander around the summit for a while, check out the view, and then come back down on the last ride of the day.
Lubov and Stas were standing off to the side watching the crowd when they noticed several men who were much better dressed than everyone else. One of them held a German Shepherd on a leash. Stas pointed to them and whispered, “Looks like they’re undercover. What do you think?”
Lubov scrutinized the men now boarding the tram car. He leaned in and replied, “I’ll bet they’re working the conference and checking out the restaurant at the top because of tomorrow’s lunch. I’m glad we protected our supplies.”
Stas nodded. “Best thing to do is hang back and let them go first.”
“Exactly what I was thinking. Once they’re up there, we’ll give them space while we take a hike, just like we planned.”
“Yah. We’ve got plenty of time,” Stas said, surveying the crowd.
They had carefully packed supplies into their backpacks and sprayed their most important cargo with Deer Off to dispel any lingering scent that might be picked up by dogs. Lubov figured they would have to wait a while for the next cable car, so he pointed to a restaurant off to the left. “Let’s grab coffee and a sandwich while we kill time.”
They ambled over to the Mangy Moose. Inside, they walked up to the bar, placed their order, and grabbed a handful of cookies from a basket. When their food was ready, they paid the bartender, and headed out to a small table on a long porch.
“You know, if we weren’t in this town to do a job, we could have a pretty good time out here,” Stas said, eyeing a trio of twenty-something girls in shorts and colorful T-shirts at the next table.
“Yah, maybe. But remember, we’re leaving immediately after we finish. Then we collect our money first from Vadim and later from all those brilliant trades we made.”
Stas laughed. “I know. The short sales. I can’t wait to tell the partners back in Moscow about the profits we make betting the organization’s accounts. We’ll be able to expand our operations all over the place.”
When they finished their sandwiches, Lubov shoved a cookie in his mouth, washed it down with a gulp of coffee, and then glanced at the tram. It was nearing the top of the mountain, so he gave Stas a thumbs up.
Back on the tram platform, Stas handed his ticket to the operator and stepped on board the next red and black cable car. It was emblazoned with the words “Jackson Hole” along the bottom, and white silhouettes of a cowboy on a bucking bronco were painted on some of the windows. Lubov followed, and they pushed through the crowd to take a spot at the wide front window where they held onto railings that extended around the periphery. Though the tram could hold up to one hundred people, only a third of it was filled at this time of day. That was fine with Lubov. He wasn’t sure how steady it would be with a full load. Now it just held a bunch of aging tourists with cameras, a gaggle of teenagers huddled together, and several couples who looked dressed for dinner.
The doors closed, and the car began its fifteen minute trek up the side of the mountain. A woman standing nearby was holding a leaflet. She started reading to the guy next to her. Lubov assumed they were headed to dinner at the summit restaurant. Together, they easily took up enough space for three or four hikers.
Lubov could hear her saying, “Larry, it says here that this cable goes up 4,129 vertical feet, and we’ll be able to see all of Jackson Hole, the Snake River, Grand Teton National Park, and even the summit of the Grand Teton. That’s the biggest mountain in the range.” Lubov wondered if they’d be the biggest couple on the range.
The other man didn’t look too interested as he kept flicking through texts on his iPhone. She was undeterred as she continued reading, “Says here that you can hike and see wild flowers up there.” Lubov thought hiking would be a good idea for them, but he doubted if he and Stas would bump into them in the mountains. They wouldn’t survive an overnight hike.
As the car hauled its human cargo along the cables, Lubov said, “It’s quite a sight up here. Jagged peaks over there, and looks like deer or something down by those trees.”
“Those are elk,” Stas said. “Might see some moose wandering around too. I heard that you shouldn’t approach a female moose if she has babies, even though they’re the size of a horse.”
“They’re dangerous? I thought they were just slow and ugly.”
“Nope. They can kill you. Just like bears.”
“Do you think any will be near the restaurant?” Lubov asked, raising his bushy eyebrows.
“I doubt it. I’m sure they want to keep the tourists happy, so the management probably watches for them,” Stas said. “Maybe they put repellent around to keep them away. Not sure if it would be like our Deer Off spray, but there has to be something.”
When the cable car slowly crept to a halt, the doors opened, and the passengers scrambled out, clutching purses and backpacks. Lubov and Stas let the others go first and then finally emerged onto the upper platform.
They looked around and saw two of the well-dressed men from the previous tram leaving the restaurant. The men nodded as if they had finished something, then they headed over to the bottom of the tram tower that stretched up several stories. They were examining the base, walking around, kneeling down, and rummaging through the underbrush. The German Shepherd nosed around and finally backed off. The men patted the dog and nodded to each other again.
“Don’t get off until they leave,” Lubov warned as he and Stas hung back to let the other passengers walk out the door.
“Looks like you were right,” Stas whispered. “They checked everything around here. But now they’re going back to the restaurant. I think we can get off now. We need to hit the trails for a while.”
Once off the tram, they walked toward the back of the ridge. Lubov pulled out a little map showing some pathways around the summit and others leading all the way back down. He doubted if many people would attempt that sort of hike. In fact, he was counting on it.
Stas shifted his backpack and joined Lubov on one of the trails. They hiked away from the tower and down behind the restaurant, stopping occasionally to look over their shoulders. They were alone on this part of the mountain. They continued walking until they stumbled over some rocks and crevices and entered a small clearing where they sat down on the ground to rest.
They pulled out water bottles, leaned against a tree, and talked about what they would do with all the money they were going to make. If not tomorrow, they were certain the profits would start rolling in by next week.
The sun gradually receded behind the mountains, and the temperature started to plummet. “Glad we brought jackets. It’s summer, and I’m already getting cold,” Lubov said.
“Gets down to about forty in the valley. Of course, we’re much higher, so it’ll be pretty frigid soon.”
“Too bad
we can’t build a fire or something,” Lubov ventured.
“If anybody can handle being cold, we can. We’re Russians,” Stas said. “Put on your gloves. It’ll only be another hour or two before that restaurant closes. The security guys will probably wait until everyone is out of there, take another look around, and then head down on the last tram of the night.”
“Yah, that sounds about right. They didn’t look like the hiking type to me,” Lubov said with a shrug.
“I never thought I’d be the hiking type either,” Stas said. “Then again, it’s a pretty brilliant idea.”
“Thanks,” Lubov said.
The two men hunkered down and talked in low voices for the next few hours. They reviewed their plans, speculated about how fast Vadim would pay them, and considered how long they should stay in the states before heading back to Moscow.
Lubov kept looking around for a stray moose or elk. He hoped they would stay farther down the mountain or even in the valley. They certainly were in no position to deal with predatory wildlife. All they had with them for protection was a can of bear spray.
Stas and Lubov were looking through the trees when they saw the restaurant’s lights finally shut off. They waited another half hour and then gingerly picked their way back up the trail to the top. There, they didn’t see a soul, but they did see what must have been the last tram car slowly chugging its way down the mountain.
They watched it for a few seconds and then split up. Lubov headed to the restaurant. They had already scoped out the area during their last trip, so he knew exactly where to place his first cache of C-4. It would be shoved under a broad windowsill at the back of the building. Two others would be nestled behind the gutters, and another would rest against a side wall that was covered by a bush.
He leaned his backpack against the back wall and took out a small lump that looked like modeling clay. It always reminded him of Ivory soap in a plain brown wrapper. He was glad that his associates had shipped them their supply of Czech Plastique on time. It was perfect for this job and pretty cheap too. They only needed about five thousand dollars’ worth to complete their job. Five thousand dollars to make millions. How great was that?
When he had taped the lump under the windowsill, he hooked up the initiator that would be triggered by a cell phone call. Basic, but effective. While he placed the rest of his charges, Stas planted his own C-4 lumps at the base of the tram tower, covering them up with loose rocks.
Lubov finished first and walked over to the base to help Stas. “How’s it coming?”
“Almost done with this one. It took me a while to gather enough rocks and brush to hide it, but I think it looks pretty good. I want to try one more thing, though. See that box up there on top of that tower ledge? I think it’s a weather monitor or something.”
“How are you going to get up there?” Lubov asked, craning his neck.
“Not sure. I can’t reach it. But you’re lighter than I am. I’ll get the package ready, then you can climb on my shoulders and try to get it on top of that box,” Stas said. “No one will see it if you shove it toward the back.”
Stas steadied himself while Lubov finally placed the last explosive with the blasting cap carefully inserted. Then he jumped down. “We did it,” Stas exclaimed. They gave each other high fives and then sat down to reassemble their backpacks.
“Time to get the hell out of here,” Lubov said. “Think we can make it down the mountain when it’s so dark?”
“No problem,” Stas said. “I brought flashlights, and there’s a half moon that’ll help.”
“I hope we don’t run into any animals up here. You got the bear spray, right?”
“Bears only roam around at dusk and in the early morning,” Stas said. “I read that somewhere.”
Lubov stared at him and said, “Well, let’s just hope we get to the bottom before dawn.”
“I’m sure we will. Then I want a long, hot shower. I’m freezing my ass off up here.”
FORTY-TWO
THURSDAY MIDMORNING;
JACKSON, WYOMING
“PRETTY SIGHT DOWN THERE,” DOM said, peering out the window of the Learjet as it banked toward the Jackson airport.
“Sure is,” Brett said. “I just hope it stays pretty.” He checked his watch. “Damn. It’s 10:30. I knew we’d hit a bad headwind. The Denver office better have a car waiting for us like they promised. I told them we didn’t need a driver. I figure we can drive faster ourselves. They said we can keep the car as long as we need it.”
“Do you know the way to Teton Village?”
“Sure. Shouldn’t take too long to get there. Maybe twenty minutes or so.” Brett spent the rest of the flight watching the valley and its surrounding jagged peaks.
Once the plane landed and taxied to the Jackson Authority FBO, Brett and Dom grabbed their luggage and briefcases and hurried down the steps to the tarmac.
“Your car is here,” one of the pilots said, pointing to a black sedan next to the wing. “Have a good one.”
“Thanks for the ride,” Brett said. “And nice job on the landing. Not the longest runway I’ve ever seen, but you handled it perfectly.”
“Thanks. Let us know when you need to head back to D.C. We have orders to stay here for two days. But keep in touch with dispatch in case we get called for another mission.”
“Will do,” Brett said and hustled over to the car. Dom tossed their luggage in the trunk and then stepped into the passenger seat.
As he buckled his seat belt, Brett pulled out his cell phone, activated its Bluetooth, and dialed Samantha’s number. He put the car in gear and drove away from the plane. Voicemail again.
Is there something wrong with cell phones here?
“Damn! Samantha isn’t answering her cell,” Brett said, already feeling agitated.
“Maybe she’s in the dining room or something,” Dom ventured. “Why don’t we call the lodge? I’ll get the number.” He called information, asked for Samantha Reid, and handed his cell to Brett when the desk clerk finally tracked her down.
“Hello?” Samantha said.
“Samantha, it’s Brett. I’m using Dom’s phone. We’ve just landed in Jackson.”
“It’s good to talk to you. I really appreciate your concern. But I think you’ve made your trip for nothing. The local FBI briefed us late last night. They said they combed the entire area, and everything was fine.”
“Let me be the judge of that,” Brett said. “Look, I’m heading to Teton Village. What’s your schedule?”
“We’re all in the lobby. They don’t have very good cell service here. Glad you called the desk. At least it got through on this end.”
“Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary at the conference? Anything at all that you would call suspicious?”
“Not really. I had breakfast with a charming Russian, Alexander Tepanov. He’s the one you asked me about. Turns out, he’s quite nice, even if he does come on a little strong. Anyway, we’re pushing the Russians to be more vigilant about money laundering. But it’s tough with all the mafia gangs and with so much corruption at almost every level of their government.”
“I’ll bet,” Brett said. “When is everyone coming to the village for your speech?”
“We’ll be leaving here shortly. They have buses waiting outside. Should be going up the tram around noon,” she said. “I’m not looking forward to it.”
“The whole heights thing, right?” Brett said.
“Yes,” Samantha admitted. “I don’t know how it’ll go. I’ll just have to close my eyes.”
“Well, I’ll keep my eyes open. I don’t want to miss anything. I’ll see you there.”
“Okay. And, Brett, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful earlier. I know that you’re just being cautious, and I just want you to know that I appreciate it. See you later.” When she hung up, Brett pictured her brushing some of her long brown hair off her lovely face.
What if there really are people who are out to get her here?
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Brett shuddered and drove on.
“Is she all right?” Dom asked.
“God, I hope so,” Brett said. “We’ll know soon enough.”
Brett maneuvered around a building, drove through a gate in a chain-link fence, and then continued onto the access road leading to the highway. He suddenly pointed to a rough, wooden sign on the right. “What does it say?”
Dom read the words: “ ‘Howdy stranger. Yonder is Jackson Hole. The last of the Old West.’ ” He chuckled. “Forgot my cowboy boots. But at least we’ve got our guns,” he said, patting his shoulder holster.
Brett nodded and turned onto the highway, the first place he could really cut the engine loose. “As soon as we get there, we’ve got to locate the agent in charge, get briefed, and then head up the mountain before Samantha and the others get there. I know he said it’s all clear, but I’ve got to check everything at that restaurant. It’s the most logical place to target. Now that we’re here, I keep thinking, what if the Denver agents missed something? Some hidden explosive like the one in Naples?”
“I hear you,” Dom said. “It may turn out that everything’s fine, but I follow my instincts like you.”
Brett checked his watch. “While I go up the mountain, you stay on the ground with the other agents. You should be surveying every single person anywhere near the tram. I want you to take pictures of everyone. And I mean everyone.”
Holding up his cell, Dom said, “We’ll get good shots if we can. And then we’ve got to make sure no one tries to use their cells for calls. Except our guys, of course. I brought our own VHF radios, which can’t be jammed, in case the locals disrupt something. We need to be in touch. On the ground and up at the restaurant.”
“Right,” Brett said. “Wish we could just confiscate every cell phone in the area or shut down the cell towers. But last time I talked to them, Denver said we can’t do that. Too many muckety-mucks in town for the conference that we need to protect, not irritate.”
“It sucks,” Dom said. “If there are any problems at the restaurant, cell phones are always the triggers of choice, unless there are timers involved. What are the odds?”
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