“Did you have problems with the tracker?” Irina asked.
“No, I had a problem finding the car. Seems like the Chinese like the car model and color that Ming drives.”
“How does the tracker work?” Irina asked.
“You just install the tracker where it can’t be seen, like the inside of a fender, and turn it on with the cell phone app. It tracks the target car’s location and speed and transmits the information to my cell phone.”
Dimitri showed Irina the app on his phone.
“Your app show’s that his car is moving,” Irina said.
“Yeah, I see that. Looks like we got here just in time. It’s that blue Lincoln that just pulled out of the parking lot exit. Don’t get too close.”
They followed Zhou Ming over the Key Bridge and into northern Virginia. Twenty minutes later they arrived at a mall near Tysons Corner and parked close enough to the Lincoln to watch while not being seen.
“He’s just sitting there,” Irina said.
“No, I think he’s talking to someone on his phone.”
“You can see that from here?” Irina asked, obviously impressed.
“Yes, good eyesight is an occupational requirement. He’s getting out of the car. I’ll follow him, you stay here.”
“No, Dimitri. I was ordered to stay with you.”
“Okay, Irina, try to keep up,” Dimitri said with a smirk.
Irina smiled and said, “No, you try to keep up,” as she sprinted past Dimitri.
They closed the distance on Ming, and observed him entering a coffee shop. The both of them followed him in, acting like a couple.
“Get us some coffee, Irina. I’ll find a table.”
Dimitri watched as Ming bought a coffee and sat at a nearby table. Irina returned with two coffees and said, “It looks like he’s waiting for someone.”
“Yeah. Ming’s staring at that tall guy in the expensive overcoat who’s fixing his coffee at the condiment station. That’s interesting, the tall guy just left his newspaper.”
“Yes, and Ming just took it,” Irina said.
“Looks like a dead drop to me. Ming is definitely a Chinese spy.”
“Let’s go, Dimitri. We need to follow Ming.”
“No, let’s follow the tall guy. He went into that men’s room over there. We need to find out who he is and if he just gave Ming intelligence information.”
“That’s not part of our assignment, Dimitri.”
“It is for me,” Dimitri whispered. “If we can get evidence that Ming is a spy, it could be used to prove that he might also be capable of murder. Besides, we can track Ming on my phone and see everywhere he goes while also following the tall guy.”
Dimitri knew his rationale wasn’t without merit, but it wasn’t the real reason he wanted to identify the tall guy.
“Okay, it’s your neck if we blow this,” Irina said with a deadly stare.
“I know. This is my op, Irina. I’d take the blame even if it was your idea.”
“Okay, okay, let’s go. Your tall guy just walked out of the men’s room.”
Dimitri and Irina got in their car and followed the tall man to a large building with a huge American flag.
“Your GPS says this is a technology park,” Irina said.
“Yeah, with all the antennas on the roof and the flag, I’m guessing it’s a federal government contractor. I’m taking a picture of the company’s name and logo as well as our target’s car and license plate and emailing them to New York. They should be able to identify him.”
“Great. Let’s find Ming before we lose him.”
“Don’t worry so much. It will age you, Irina. It looks like he went directly back to the embassy after completing his dead drop.”
“That’s good. I’m hungry. Let’s get some lunch.”
“Okay, I know a place in Georgetown that’s good.”
They were five miles from Georgetown when Dimitri saw Ming’s car leave the embassy.
“It looks like Ming is heading right toward us and is only a mile away.”
“Where’s he at?” Irina asked.
“He just stopped. The GPS says it’s a restaurant. Looks like we’ll be able to get lunch.”
“Great. I’m starving.”
Ming was giving his order to a waitress as Dimitri and Irina walked into the restaurant. They took a nearby table directly behind him. The same waitress then took their order. After Ming finished his meal, Dimitri noticed that Ming started looking around the room to see if anyone was watching.
“Take out your phone, Irina. I think Ming is about to make his move. We need to record this.”
“Okay, let’s both record him.”
Ming quickly took his billfold from his coat pocket to pay the check along with a thick letter-sized envelope that he deftly stuck to the underside of the table. He then left.
“Did you get that, Irina?”
“Yes, I have photos of everything. What about you?”
“I got several frontals of Ming at the table and then a video of him putting the package under the table. Let’s stay and see who’s picking it up.”
Seconds later a guy wearing army fatigues walked in and moved toward the table Ming was sitting at.
“He looks like a really nervous soldier,” Irina said.
“Yeah, I think he’s Ming’s contact.”
Dimitri used his phone to zoom in on the soldier’s nametag.
“His nametag reads ‘Koenig.’ We need to record this,” Dimitri said.
Dimitri and Irina recorded Koenig reaching under the table and taking the envelope.
“It looks about the right size for cash,” Dimitri said.
“Yes, we’ve got what we need. Where did Ming go?”
“Here’s my phone. You can track him yourself. I need to use the men’s room.”
Ten minutes later Dimitri returned. “So where’s Ming?”
“At his residence.”
“Okay, then let’s follow Mr. Koenig. It looks like he’s leaving.”
Dimitri and Irina followed Koenig for about thirty minutes until he entered Fort Belvoir, which Dimitri recorded.
“Well, I guess that’s it, Irina. You can take me back to my hotel. I’ll even buy you a drink.”
Irina smiled and said, “Sounds good to me.”
After some dinner and several drinks, Dimitri went with Irina up to his room and downloaded the photos and videos from his phone onto his laptop and encrypted the file.
“I’ll provide all these files with the encryption key to you, Irina. I’d also like the pictures you took.”
“Sure, Dimitri. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
“Not tonight, Irina. Business before pleasure. I’ll just load your files from your phone onto my laptop, and then I’ll send mine to your email.”
“No need, just load your files and encryption key on this,” Irina said, as she handed him a lipstick with a USB port. “I never go anywhere without it.”
The next morning, Dimitri checked his email and saw the response from New York identifying the tall man’s license plate from the day before as belonging to an Alexander Buehler. He then picked up Irina at her hotel and drove toward Ming’s residence. Suddenly the GPS tracker alarm went off, indicating Ming’s car was leaving.
“Where’s Ming?” asked Irina.
“He’s approaching Georgetown and heading toward us. We should be able to cross the Key Bridge before he gets there. I’ll park by that liquor store at the DC end of the bridge and wait for him.”
“There’s a lot of police cars on the Georgetown side of the bridge, Dimitri. Do you see them?”
“Yeah, it’s a roadblock and I believe I know who they’re after. Let’s get out and watch and take some pictures for the folks back home.”
Dimitri and Irina saw Ming’s Lincoln stopped on the bridge and watched as the police dragged him out of his car. They both recorded Ming resisting the police and being thrown to the ground and handcuffed while be
ing read his rights. Ming was yelling at the police about being mistreated when he was forced into a police car and taken away.
“Looks like he’s on his way to jail,” Dimitri said.
“Yeah, and he’s definitely not happy about it. We need to get this video to New York.”
“Okay, but first I need to destroy the tracker on Ming’s car.”
Dimitri entered a phone number in his cell phone, and pressed send. The tracker received the call and initiated an exothermic chemical reaction, destroying any evidence.
“Let’s go back to your hotel room and send these videos to our friends in New York. I’m sure they’ll be interested,” Irina said.
“Sure, we can also turn on the news to see what they’re reporting about the arrest,” Dimitri replied.
Dimitri and Irina returned to his hotel room and turned on the TV. There was no news of the arrest for most of the day until a local station reported that a foreign national had been detained for questioning about the death of Senator Thompson. Dimitri and Irina both smiled and booked flights home for the following morning.
“What’re you going to tell them when you get back, Irina?”
“That you were great and had everything under control.”
“Thanks. How long have you been working for the Big Man?”
Irina smiled and said, “I don’t work for any Big Man, Dimitri. I work for a law firm.”
“You’re a lawyer?”
“No, a private investigator. I used to work for the feds.”
Dimitri smiled. “So did I.”
“I know. What would you like to do for the rest of the evening, Dimitri?”
“Whatever you want.”
Irina smiled as she took off her clothes and said, “Sounds good to me.”
When Dimitri arrived at his house in Brooklyn the next afternoon, he found an envelope under his door with a note written in Russian. It said to come to the bar in Brighton Beach at seven that evening. He entered the bar and as he took a seat, his favorite Russian beer appeared in a large mug in front of him. It was a beer that he couldn’t find in the US, but somehow the pakhan was able to import it, probably illegally.
At seven, the pakhan came into the bar and asked Dimitri to follow him to his office. He led him through a back door and then down a creaky, well-hidden stairway under the floor. They entered a large musty room with an expansive oak conference table, expensive leather chairs, and a very well-stocked wet bar. The pakhan poured himself a diet soda and sat down across from Dimitri.
“My doctor said I need to stop drinking to save my liver. So now I’ll live longer but I’ll be miserable. Such is life.”
“Are you okay, Pakhan?”
“Yes, I’m being treated by a very good doctor—my daughter Anya. I followed up on your request to find the Big Man and got some information. It seems that there was an individual who was sent to New York from Moscow as a member of the Russian UN delegation. His family apparently had connections in the Politburo. He quietly defected, requesting political asylum in 1978. The US government obtained important information from him and allowed him to relocate after changing his name and his appearance with minor plastic surgery. His last name was Sokurov, but his code name was the Big Man.”
“Is this information reliable?”
“Very reliable. It was provided to me by a close friend who’s helped me in the past.”
“How can I repay you for your help?”
“You can be at my house this Saturday night for dinner. Anya will be there, and she’s really looking forward to seeing you again.”
Dimitri hesitated for a second. “Okay, what time do you want me there?”
“I think six would be good. We’ll be having some good Russian food cooked by my wife and daughters, so don’t be late or it’ll all be gone.”
Marat laughed, and Dimitri realized there was no way he could get out of this without insulting the pakhan, which was never good.
Dimitri knew someone who could help him identify the Big Man based on the information provided by the pakhan. His name was Frank Green, a friend and colleague from when Dimitri worked for US Intelligence. Frank was a former member of the US Marine Corps Force Recon, a Marine Corps special operations group similar to the Navy SEALs. Dimitri had saved Frank’s life in Afghanistan by taking out a group of terrorists who were getting ready to ambush him.
Frank didn’t have a published phone number, as that wasn’t permitted by his employer. Instead, Frank had given Dimitri his parent’s phone number in Quantico, Virginia. Dimitri called the number and a woman answered.
“Hello?”
“Can I speak to Rick Green?”
“Who’s calling, please?” a woman asked.
“I’m a friend of Frank Green. We used to work together.”
There was a pause and then a gruff voice answered.
“This is Rick Green, what can I do for you?”
“Mr. Green, my name is Dimitri. I used to work with your son and I’m trying to find him.”
“Oh, Dimitri, he mentioned you. You’re the Russian who saved his ass in Iraq, right?”
“No sir, it was Afghanistan.”
“Just needed to be sure. Frank’s traveling right now, Dimitri. He should be back in a couple of days. Can he call you?”
Dimitri gave him the number of a burner phone and hung up. He turned on his burner phone and waited. In about thirty minutes, he got a call.
“Is this Stalin?” Stalin was Dimitri’s nickname when he worked with the feds.
“How are you, Frank?”
“I’m well, how about you, Stalin?”
“Fine, but I need to meet with you. When are you going to be back in town?”
“Tomorrow afternoon. We could meet at Dulles Airport at the sushi restaurant at one thirty?”
“I’ll be there, Frank, looking forward to it.”
After he hung up, Dimitri booked a flight from Kennedy to Dulles for the next day.
Dimitri’s flight was early, so he went to the restaurant and waited. At the scheduled time, he saw a muscular African-American man whom he recognized instantly as Frank Green. Frank had a big smile on his face and embraced Dimitri.
“How are you, man? Are you getting fat on that cushy job of yours?” Frank asked.
“It’s not as cushy as it used to be. I need some help from you to identify my employer, Frank.”
“Let’s get some sushi first. I just got off a long flight with no food, and I’m starving.”
After getting their food, Frank asked what Dimitri needed.
“I’ve been working for my employer since I left the feds several years ago, Frank, and I still don’t know who it is. The pay is great and the workload is a lot less than it was with the feds, but without knowing the person I’m working for, I feel vulnerable.”
“So what do you need from me, Stalin?”
“Recently, a friend was able to find out some information about him. He’s in his sixties, was born in Moscow, and worked at the Russian diplomatic mission at the UN in the 1970s. I also know that he defected to the United States in 1978. His last name was originally Sokurov, but his nickname is the Big Man. He’s obviously very wealthy.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I need you to find out who he really is. You have access to intelligence databases for mission planning.”
“That’ll be difficult. You know we only have access to those databases based on mission requirements. I’d need to justify why such a search is necessary.”
“I know, but they always gave us broad latitude in our research, since we never knew the exact requirements of a mission.”
“That changed, Dimitri. The current administration placed stricter controls on our access due to previous abuses. Maybe I can fit it into one of my searches for my current mission. Research on a defector could set off some alarms, but since it was thirty years ago and relates to an enemy that no longer exists, it might be okay. I’ll see what I can do.”
“I guess we are naive, and I hope we still are. If they’re more diligent than you think and my search sets off some alarms, I’ll need some cover.”
“I’ll be there if you need me; I’ve never let you down before.”
“I know that. I owe my life to you. When are you going back?”
“Immediately. I have a dinner date this evening in New York with a beautiful woman from my past.”
“That sounds like fun. Maybe you’ll finally be settling down.”
“It would be fun, if her mother, father, and her sisters weren’t also going to be there. Her father is also one of the biggest Russian mob bosses in New York.”
“Well, your personal life is certainly a lot more exciting than mine. How’s that parrot I gave you?”
“Putin’s well, and his vocabulary keeps getting bigger. I have to go, Frank. My flight leaves in forty minutes. If you find anything, call me on the phone number you used previously.”
Dimitri got back to Kennedy and took a taxi to his house. He took a shower, shaved, and put on some dress pants and a sweater. He got to the pakhan’s home early and rang the bell. The pakhan’s wife, Antonina, answered the door.
“Dimitri, come in. It’s been much too long.”
Antonina took his coat and announced his arrival to her daughters. It took Dimitri’s breath away to see Anya again. She was no longer the young girl he knew in medical school who never wore dresses. Anya was now a full-grown woman, and one of the most beautiful he’d ever seen, with dark hair, bright blue eyes, and a spectacular figure. She was definitely the prettiest and smartest of the pakhan’s daughters, as well as her father’s favorite.
She’d once told Dimitri that he was too pretty to be a boy. He remembered how angry she got when he told her she was too ugly to be a girl. As they got older, Dimitri noticed her more and they became lovers at the Chechen State University. They both ended their medical studies when military action destroyed several university buildings. Marat had sent his wife and the two younger daughters to America to stay with family, while he and his sons fought against the Chechens. Anya had also stayed and worked as a nurse until the war ended.
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