Cyber Countdown

by Terence Flynn

  “Dimitri will be right back,” Putin said repeatedly, as Sun climbed the stairs to the second floor. He found what appeared to be Dimitri’s bedroom and office. Sun began searching a desk and found some Russian books, DVDs, and CDs, but no papers or any pictures of family or friends. He searched the end table next to the bed and found an envelope containing pictures with inscriptions on the back. The pictures were mostly of Dimitri and a very attractive girl, probably his girlfriend, based on some of the poses. One picture included Dimitri and his girlfriend with three other people, one of whom he recognized as Marat. It had a very long inscription in Cyrillic that he couldn’t read. He took a picture of the inscription with his phone, put the envelope with the pictures back in the drawer, and quickly left.

  Sun returned to the bar, and as he came through the door, he saw Marat. He could tell something was wrong, because Marat ignored him, which was unusual. Sun went up to the bar and ordered a beer. He called to Marat, who walked over.

  “I haven’t seen you for a while, Marat.”

  Marat leaned over and whispered into Sun’s ear in Russian.

  “I know who you are, Sun. I suggest you finish this farce you’ve been working on and leave, or someone might get hurt.”

  “We’ll wrap it up as soon as possible, but the project is real,” Sun whispered. Then in a loud voice that everyone in the bar could hear, Sun said, “It’s going to be a great documentary, Marat. I’m very excited about it, and I’m sure you are, too.”

  Marat looked around the bar and saw many of the locals smiling and celebrating after hearing Sun’s words. He then stared at Sun for what seemed like forever.

  “Come back tomorrow at noon and we’ll talk,” Marat said.

  Sun nodded and then walked out of the bar. He took a taxi back to his hotel and called Zhou Ming.

  “Zhou, what happened in Florida? Do you know the agent who was hurt?”

  “I know him. He’s young, enthusiastic, and inexperienced.”

  “That’s a deadly combination.”

  “Thankfully, not in this case. It looks like he’s going to live.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve had all day. Is there any permanent damage?”

  “No, and it looks like Mr. Vasin wasn’t trying to kill him at all. In fact, he probably saved him. Apparently our young agent was injured when he was tripped and fell on Mr. Vasin’s knife.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes, the agent told us while being questioned in the hospital earlier today. Vasin also left his phone next to the agent’s body, which allowed us to find him and get him to a hospital before he died.”

  “So the Russian apparently has a conscience. Does the ambassador know?”

  “I’m not certain. I just found out less than an hour ago.”

  “You need to let him know before he meets the president tomorrow.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell him.”

  “Thanks, Zhou. I’m going to email you an inscription. It’s in Cyrillic. I need it translated and sent to my email account no later than tomorrow morning.”

  “Everyone’s gone at the embassy. I’ll need to send it to Beijing. You should have it by tomorrow morning.”

  “That’s fine. Goodnight, Zhou.”

  The next morning, Sun checked his email and saw the translation of the inscription: “Anya and Dimitri with Papa, Dimitri’s mother and sister, and Milena at Grozny College.”

  The search of Dimitri’s house had paid off. Sun now knew that Dimitri’s former lover was Anya Chubais, the daughter of Marat Chubais. He went online and searched for Anya Chubais in New York City but found no matches. Sun broadened the search to the entire state and found one match in Stony Brook. He called Zhou again.

  “I need you to find out as much as you can about Anya Chubais. She lives in the town of Stony Brook in New York State. At the very least I need her current address, phone number, and occupation, and get it back to me as soon as possible.”

  An hour later, Zhou called back.

  “I sent the information to your email. Anya Chubai is a doctor. Do you think she’s treating Vasin?”

  “Possibly. She and her father apparently knew Vasin from their time in Russia.”

  Sun called the ambassador later that morning and asked how his meeting with the president went.

  “I informed the president that Zhou Ming was set up by a man named Dimitri Vasin. I also told him that we know he was an American intelligence agent and that we hoped he wasn’t still working for US Intelligence. The president said he’d find out if we provided evidence of our accusations against Vasin.”

  “You know we can’t provide any evidence without revealing our sources. I’m sure the president also knows that.”

  “Yes, but at least he’ll make some inquiries, and if he finds out what I said is true, I’m sure he’ll take action on his own. All we really want is to prove that none of our personnel were involved in the death of the senator, and I believe he wants that as well.”

  “I assume Zhou informed you that Vasin didn’t try to injure our agent, and that he was merely defending himself?”

  “Yes, but we still need to find him, Sun.”

  “I think I know where Dimitri Vasin is located. Will you authorize the use of one of our private investigators to confirm my information, Ambassador?”

  “I will, but I don’t want another violent confrontation. We need someone who’s very professional. I recommend Jeffrey Turner. But only to find him, Sun. When you have his location, provide it to me immediately. I’ll provide it to Barbara Chang. We need to let the Americans handle this, Sun. It’s their problem, not ours.”

  Sun called Turner after he got off the phone with the ambassador. He provided the location of the house where he thought Dimitri Vasin was staying.

  “All I want you to do is find out if Dimitri is in the house. Don’t confront him or the owner of the house, Anya Chubais. Mr. Vasin is very dangerous, Mr. Turner.”

  “Do you need proof that he’s there?”

  “Yes, I need actual evidence that he’s in the house. Just let me know when you have it so we can inform the FBI.”

  “Okay, I’ll fly up to Long Island and begin the surveillance tomorrow.”

  After his conversation with Turner, Sun left the hotel and took a taxi over to Marat Chubais’s bar in Brighton Beach. Marat waved him over as soon as he arrived.

  “Follow me to my conference room where we can have a private conversation.”

  “Good idea. I want to settle this today.”

  “So do I,” Marat said, as he led Sun down the stairway.

  “Do you want anything to drink?”

  “I’ll have one of your illegally imported Russian beers,” Sun said. “Did you have anything to do with canceling our interviews?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think you did, but I’d like to know why.”

  “You violated my trust, Sun. A man in my position can’t tolerate that. That’s why.”

  “How’d I do that? What’d I do?”

  “You came here to Little Odessa, where my friends and family live and where I have my business, and claimed you were making a documentary. You lied to me. You’re actually looking for a man who’s like a son to me.”

  “We’re making a genuine documentary, Marat. It’s the most important thing in my life right now. Yes, I know others have motives that are based on using this production to find someone, but I just want to finish this film.”

  “Who are these others, and why do they want Dimitri? Is it the police or the feds?”

  “It’s the Chinese government. They want to find him to prove he framed one of their agents for murder. Your friend almost killed another Chinese agent in Florida.”

  “Do they know where he is?”

  “No,” Sun lied. “They’ve abandoned the search. Your friend is too dangerous. They’ll let the US authorities track him. It’s their job and not China’s. I just want to finish this documentary.”

&
nbsp; The pakhan wasn’t sure he believed everything Sun told him. He did believe that Sun wanted to finish the documentary, and trying to impede his effort wouldn’t be popular with the mayor and the authorities. Marat also knew that the sooner they left, the sooner things would return to normal. The NYPD would also leave and allow him to resume his real businesses.

  “Okay, Sun, I’ll make sure you can complete your interviews. When do you think you’ll be leaving?”

  “We’ll be done within a couple of weeks, after all the interviews are completed. Most of the crew will be gone before then.”

  Marat agreed, and they shook hands.

  After Sun left, Marat called Anya.

  “How is Dimitri doing, Anya?”

  “Much better, Papa. I think he’ll be able to leave in a week.”

  “Have either of you noticed anything different or out of place, such as new cars or people you haven’t seen before, especially Chinese people?”

  “No, everything seems normal. Is Dimitri in a lot of trouble?”

  “I’m not certain. The Chinese have been looking for him, but there’s no information that anyone knows where he is. Still, it’s best to be cautious.”

  Jeffrey Turner flew into MacArthur Airport and rented a car. He brought everything he needed for surveillance, including a small telescope, a long-range parabolic microphone, and night-vision binoculars. The Chinese had also provided him with a laser surveillance listening system that could pick up conversations inside a house from the sound vibrations on the windows.

  Turner drove from the airport to the address for Anya Chubais and slowly cruised by her house. He noticed a vacant house across the street from Anya’s that was for sale as a foreclosure and thought it would be a good place to operate from. Turner picked up some things at the local stores, including blankets and some small battery-powered lanterns. He packed everything into a duffel bag and parked his car at a small playground close to the vacant house. It was a cloudy, cold night and it was starting to snow, so he doubted anyone would see him.

  Turner walked to the back door of the house, easily picked the lock, and entered. There were several electric space heaters throughout the house to keep the water pipes from freezing, so he knew there was electricity. He set up the parabolic microphone, unpacked the laser surveillance listening system, and went outside wearing night-vision binoculars until he found a location directly across from Anya’s house. He hid the laser surveillance system in a tree and adjusted it until his laser receiver picked up the reflection off the picture window in Anya’s house. Turner then turned on the audio transmitter and adjusted it until his portable wireless receiver was working.

  After everything was set, Turner returned to the house. He unpacked the blankets, and made himself comfortable while listening through the earphones connected to the portable receiver. At first he heard nothing, but around ten that evening he heard voices.

  “I hope we still have some of those pastries left, Anya,” said a male voice.

  “You shouldn’t eat too much of that, Dimitri,” said a female voice. “That’s how Papa got fat.”

  Turner recorded the entire conversation and then went to the bathroom where there were no windows and turned on the light. He opened his laptop and sent the recorded audio file to Zhou Ming and the ambassador as an email attachment. The email said, “Dimitri is at Anya’s house in Stony Brook. It’s snowing hard, so he’s probably not leaving soon.”

  After retrieving all his equipment, Turner packed everything in his bag and watched Anya’s house. After all her house lights went out, Turner packed his car and drove to a hotel near the airport. He then called Zhou Ming and the ambassador to confirm they’d received the email with the audio file.

  Later that evening, the ambassador phoned Barbara Chang.

  “Ms. Chang, I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

  “No, I’m still up. What can I do for you, Ambassador?”

  “I have positive evidence that the man who framed our diplomat is located in a house in Stony Brook, New York. I’ve sent the address to your email account, and I’d like to meet with you tomorrow morning at nine to discuss this.”

  “Okay, Ambassador, I’ll see you then.”

  The meeting at the White House included the Chinese ambassador, Zhou Ming, Barbara Chang, and Shelly Brockner. Zhou talked first.

  “Good morning. My name is Zhou Ming, and I’m the diplomat who was framed by Dimitri Vasin and was beaten and detained by the police for something I didn’t do.”

  “Mr. Ming, the FBI director and I would like to apologize for how you were treated, but the federal government had no involvement.”

  “Thank you for your apology, Ms. Chang. I want to play an audio file from my cell phone that was recorded last night. The female voice is Anya Chubais, a doctor and the daughter of Marat Chubais, a tavern owner and an influential leader with the Russian population in New York. The male voice is Dimitri Vasin, who fits the description of the man who poisoned Senator Thompson’s aide the evening of the senator’s death. Mr. Vasin is a former and possibly still current intelligence agent of the US government.”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Ming, Dimitri Vasin hasn’t worked for the US government in over three years.”

  “I apologize, Director Brockner. Nevertheless, Dimitri Vasin is dangerous, and he should be apprehended before anyone else is hurt.”

  “Can you tell me how the recording was obtained, Mr. Ambassador?”

  “Certainly, Barbara. It was obtained by a private investigator and former FBI agent who is working for the embassy.”

  “Has anyone identified the recording as Dimitri’s voice?”

  “No, we haven’t done a voice analysis, Director. But the recorded conversation indicates that a man named Dimitri is in the house. We’re certain that a number of people could identify his voice, including the deceased majority leader’s former aide, Carla Allen. She already identified Dimitri Vasin as the man who poisoned her. I’d be happy to provide all this evidence to the FBI.”

  “That won’t be necessary. The recording should be legally sufficient for a search warrant to determine if Mr. Vasin is in the house. We’ll apprehend and detain him for questioning in the poisoning of the senator’s aide. While he’s in custody we’ll also question him about the majority leader’s death—which, I want to remind everyone, hasn’t yet been determined to be a murder.”

  That afternoon a team of FBI agents waded through a foot of snow to surround Anya’s house. There was nowhere for Dimitri to go after they announced their presence, so both Dimitri and Anya surrendered without a fight. They were both taken to the local FBI office for questioning.

  The FBI agent in charge of the local office entered the room where Dimitri was being held.

  “Have you been read your rights, Mr. Vasin?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “How do you know Anya Chubais?”

  “She’s a friend and a doctor who was treating my wounds. Anya knows nothing about what I’m being charged with.”

  “We know that; she’s leaving with her attorney. On the other hand, you’re being charged with two counts of assault and attempted murder. One count is on a federal employee, Carla Allen. The other is on the Chinese agent you assaulted in Florida. Apparently the Orange County police in Florida are also charging you with assault on a parking valet, as well as grand theft auto.”

  “I’d like to talk to an attorney.”

  “Do you have an attorney?”

  Dimitri thought about it. Given the situation and the deal he was going to propose, he knew it wouldn’t be wise to involve the Big Man’s attorneys.

  “No, I don’t have an attorney, but I’m officially requesting one,” Dimitri said.

  “All right, we can call for a lawyer from the Legal Aid Society of Suffolk County. Given the weather, it’ll be a while.”

  Dimitri smiled. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

  The assigned attorney finally made it to the FBI office about two hours
later. As Dimitri entered the conference room, his lawyer stood up and introduced himself.

  “I’m Sylvester Irving, Mr. Vasin, and I’ll be representing you.”

  “How long have you been with the Legal Aid Society, Mr. Irving?”

  “Actually I’m not with them. I’m taking this case pro bono under an agreement my law firm has with the Legal Aid Society. I read the case file. What do you have to say about the charges?”

  “I’m innocent. There is no irrefutable evidence, and a trial would be a waste of everyone’s time. I also have some information to trade that I know the government will want.”

  “What are you asking in return?”

  “The dismissal of all charges.”

  “It better be very good information.”

  “It is,” Dimitri said. “I can provide the names of two individuals located within the US who are currently involved in espionage for China. One appears to be a high-level executive in a technology company in Virginia, and the other is a US Army soldier stationed at Fort Belvoir. In addition, I have photographic evidence that links them to a Chinese intelligence agent in DC. I can also provide embarrassing evidence of a sanctioned murder by a US intelligence agency against a high-level official in Afghanistan several years ago.”

  The lawyer stared at Dimitri for a few seconds.

  “If you truly have this information, I sincerely hope it’s well protected, Mr. Vasin.”

  “I have several copies in safe deposit boxes.”

  “Okay, Mr. Vasin, let’s make an offer for the government to drop all charges in return for your identification of all the individuals involved in espionage. If they don’t agree, then we’ll use the information on the murder in Afghanistan.”

  The lawyer called in the FBI special agent who led the team that had apprehended Dimitri and explained the situation. What came next was predictable: the offer went up the chain of command until it reached Shelly Brockner and Barbara Chang. Barbara had already checked out Dimitri Vasin’s background. The president’s director of national intelligence told her that Dimitri had been involved in some very sensitive intelligence missions. She knew what that meant. He probably had knowledge of US operations that could be extremely embarrassing and potentially harmful to other intelligence operations if disclosed.