After three hours of not moving, all were pleased to be informed that they could stretch their muscles. The woman was asleep in her bed and no other person overlooked their location. The Spetsnaz troopers stood up and stretched their muscles. Not knowing how long it would be before they had the luxury of another break, all took full advantage of the situation.
***
As the six bushes apparently came to life, Luis almost choked. His mouth was barely over the waterline and as the small waves lapped at him, more often than not it was well under. The sight of the men who had obviously been staking out the house and had witnessed what he had done over the last couple of hours filled him with dread. Why federal agents had not intervened, he didn’t know. What he did know was that whatever they wanted, it wasn’t going to be in his, or his uncle’s best interests, nor for that matter Sean’s son, James. They had obviously assumed he had taken the boat across the lake. They didn’t know he was all but drowning within their sights. If he had anything to do with it, nor would they. What he did know was that he had to warn Sean what was happening which meant getting ashore unseen. Getting ashore in his current state was going to be difficult enough. The added complication of six heavily armed soldiers was a complication he could happily have done without.
***
It was only as he exited the guards’ complex that Sean realized he didn’t have any transport. The road South was gridlocked while the road North was empty. The border was still closed, despite Sean finding the shooter and from what he had heard, it would remain closed for the rest of the day. It was going to cause chaos but anything less would dishonor the brave guardsmen who had stepped up to defend their state and country. There was also the slight issue of proving the man Sean said was the shooter was indeed the shooter. Of course the rifle was correct, or at least Luis claimed it was. As for the identity of the shooter, they were just going to have to accept what Sean said.
Sean checked the time, 7.20 a.m.. The first rays of sunshine began to break the darkness. Not a cloud in the sky, it was going to be hot. Sean noted the plane coming into Laredo and knew the house to be a mile to the right. Fixing his bearings, he set off at a jog. He reckoned 6 miles and on flat tarmac, rather than Afghan mountainside, that should be less than 30 minutes.
Had he not taken two wrong turns, it would have been less than thirty he figured as he turned into the lakeside area and noted the familiar selection of street names all cleverly bearing the word Lake in some form.
A familiar house stood at the end of the road. From there, Sean just needed to turn left and another two hundred yards would see him back at Katie’s house. Someone, he realized, he was looking forward to seeing.
***
Luis managed somehow to get ashore; it took every ounce of strength his body possessed but he managed. The property he had come ashore at was a few hundred yards down from the troops and despite definitely being out of sight, he crawled on his belly from the shoreline to the safety of the house, just in case. Sitting in his boxer shorts, exhausted and dripping wet, he thanked God that the home owners hadn’t witnessed his sorry sight as they had exited their property, thankfully it seemed, running late, as they air kissed one another before jumping in their respective cars and screeching from the driveway.
It had been hours since he had left Sean at the riverside. He wondered if he had walked into the trap at the house. He realized then that he had become so embroiled in working with Sean, he hadn’t even considered the prospect that Sean had called in the troops. Sean had double-crossed him. Luis kicked himself for being so stupid. He was El Jefe’s nephew, what in the hell was he doing getting into bed with an ex CIA assassin? He needed to get out of there and alert his uncle to the scheming Sean Fox and his miraculous reincarnation. El Jefe would know what to do.
With renewed energy, Luis got up and edged himself to the side of the house. He looked carefully around the corner and fortunately could not see Sean’s house. He was out of the sight of the watchers but half naked and carless. He stepped back from the corner and tried the windows and doors of the house, all locked. The noise of a door opening across the street caught his attention. A young mother was struggling from her house with a stroller. With no one else in sight, he had his chance. He grabbed a rock from the garden and rushed across the street. The young mother’s car would be perfect as a get away car.
***
As Sean neared the street corner, the sight of a naked Luis racing across the street caught him somewhat by surprise. The rock in his hand and his focus on the young mother with her child were alarming. Fortunately, as she struggled with the door, her back to the imminent danger, she was unaware of Luis’ attack. Sean could have called out but that would have alerted the young mother to her peril and probably resulted in Luis’ incarceration and James’s death.
Fortunately, Luis had been so intent on the woman, he had not noticed Sean was barreling down upon him.
Sean launched himself at Luis and grabbed for his mouth as he tackled him from behind. The result was the two lying in a tangled mess at the bottom of the young mother’s drive, out of her sight behind her car. Sean’s hand was clamped across Luis’ mouth stopping him screaming with shock and alerting the neighborhood to his presence.
“What the fuck are you doing?” whispered Sean into Luis’ ear.
“Sean?” came the muffled and consumed response from Luis.
On answering yes, Luis immediately stopped struggling and relaxed.
As the mother went about finalizing the locking of her front door, Luis and Sean crawled out of her line of sight and hurried around into her back garden. Some clothes hung out to dry. The young mother’s husband’s clothes were a fairly good fit for Luis and as he dressed, he explained what had happened.
Sean nodded as he listened to Luis explain the moment the six soldiers had literally materialized from the ground. None of it was good.
“Is that everything?” asked Sean.
“Yes,” replied Luis thinking hard if there was anything he had missed.
Sean sent his fist into Luis’ face like a bullet, catching him square on the chin and depositing him straight on the ground. It was a short and fairly powerless jab but made a very important point.
“If I ever see you even look like you’re going to attack a woman again, I’ll kill you,” warned Sean with real menace.
Luis nodded in agreement, too stunned to argue.
Sean reached down and helped Luis to his feet. “Now let’s see what we are up against.”
“I need to borrow your phone,” said Sean holding out his hand.
“Where exactly did you figure I stashed that in my waterproof boxers?” asked Luis, not hiding his anger.
Sean smiled and let it go. He had humiliated Luis with the punch and let him have his little jibe in return. That, however, did not solve the problem of how to uncover what was happening further up the street. Sean set off at a pace that Luis struggled to keep up with. He worked his way through the rear gardens at the opposite side of the street from Katie’s. He had remembered that most, if not all, of the homes were empty. One in particular, diagonally opposite, wasn’t even complete. It would be the perfect location to see what was going on. Unfortunately, Sean was not the only person who had thought the same.
Chapter 43
After three hours of waiting, Borodin could wait no longer and hit the dial button on the phone that had been staring at him silently. Pushkin answered after one ring.
“General, I’m sorry no update,” he whispered.
Borodin hung up. He had never been a patient man but he couldn’t let his inability to control himself interfere with a mission.
“Vasiliy!” he shouted.
Vasiliy entered the office and thought twice of reminding the General of the small intercom button that negated the need to scream his name.
“Yes, General?”
“Any word from Surkov?”
Vasiliy could have said of course not, I would have told you
if there had been but again went with the far less confrontational. “No, General, nothing yet.”
“Has the President called?”
Vasiliy was beginning to struggle. “No, General, sorry, he has not.”
“OK, thanks,” he waved dismissively for Vasiliy to leave.
Surkov had assured him things were in action that would necessitate his greater involvement imminently and to ready his assets. Either himself or the President would be in touch to discuss the next steps of their plan. Until then, he should sort out the Sean Fox problem and relax.
Ever since he had found out about what really was happening at Grebnevo, the one thing he most certainly couldn’t do was relax. It was not until then that he fully understood why Sean Fox was such an issue. As far as Surkov was aware, the other Sean Fox had died in a light plane crash five years earlier. The news that another Sean Fox had died three months earlier had therefore not fazed him in the slightest. However, news that another Sean Fox had risen from the grave was a very startling prospect. As far as Surkov knew, there were only two! Which meant there was every chance that the live one could have been his. Whatever the case, the danger was too great. Sean Fox had to be killed. If he was Surkov’s Sean Fox, he knew too much. Depending on which one was which, they may have told the wife and as a result that was why she also must be eliminated. After that, it had all got a little confusing, his Sean, the other Sean, Borodin began to lose track.
As he drummed his fingers on the table the satellite phone sprung to life. He grabbed it.
“Done?” he asked.
“Da!” was the succinct reply before the line went dead.
He hit the redial but nothing happened, the line was down.
“Vasiliy!” he screamed.
Vasiliy rushed to the General’s aid.
“This damn thing has cut out!” he shouted, throwing it at Vasiliy, clearly expecting him to fix it.
Vasiliy tried for a minute before calling in proper technical assistance. The chief designer of the system was rushed into Borodin’s office, from the technical department two floors below. He brought another sat phone just in case the problem lay with the General’s handset. It did not. Neither handset could connect to Pushkin’s.
“Well?” boomed the General pacing the office in an attempt to prolong his patience.
The chief designer called back to his office and had every system component checked and triple checked.
“Everything is working correctly, General…”
“Obviously fucking not!” he blasted, not allowing the designer the chance to finish his sentence.
“… so the problem must be with Major Pushkin’s handset,” he offered timidly.
“And?”
“We have sent an update to his handset. The next time it is switched on, it will connect instantly to us and if it is a software fault, we can fix it from here. If not, I’m afraid there is little I can do.”
Borodin turned and looked out of the window.
“Vasiliy get him out of here before I do something I might not regret!”
By the time Vasiliy had turned to the designer, his back was already disappearing out of the door.
As Vasiliy shut the door behind the designer, he asked what Pushkin had said.
“I asked him 'done?’ and he answered yes. Then the line cut.”
“So Sean Fox is dead?” clarified Vasiliy.
“Yes, I suppose he is,” smiled Borodin,
“Will I get Dr Surkov on the phone?” suggested Vasiliy.
Borodin’s mood turned full circle as he realized Vasiliy was absolutely right. Now he had an excuse to call Surkov.
“Excellent idea Vasiliy. Best use the old fashioned land line though,” he laughed.
Chapter 44
As he stepped down from the lectern, Governor Rick Brown smiled to himself. Even if he said so himself, that was the speech that would make him president. Shouts as to whether he was running were ignored. There were people whose loved ones had died. Next stop for the Governor was to pay his respects to the widows and children of the murdered guardsmen. Phone calls had already been made to the widows by his office and significant benevolent funds allocated for them and their children. None would ever need to work again or worry about how they would fund their children’s education. However, Governor Rick Brown would have done the same whether Sean Fox had saved his presidential chances or not. He lived by his father’s morals and always did the right thing. Those men died because of Rick Brown’s actions and their families would not suffer because of them.
The pictures of Colonel Masters’ wife hugging the governor like a long lost son as a result were just a fortunate by-product. But then that was what his father had always told him. Son, you reap what you sew! Rick Brown took responsibility for his actions and as a result was rewarded.
***
Vincent listened as Governor Brown regained his number one contender slot. Thank God it had paid off. As far as he was concerned, the number two was a nightmare and as for the Democrats, they had lost their way entirely. As far as the CIA was concerned, Rick Brown was the best candidate for the job and knowing he owed them was no bad thing. All in all a good morning’s work.
He clicked off the screen and returned to the rather more pressing matter of Mike Ritter and Captain John Kenny. The timing of their two reports was coincidental, but added to the report of an alleged Aeroflot plane landing at Laredo, it was, to say the least, concerning.
Vincent had been trying for hours to reach Sean but no luck, his phone rang unanswered. He had eventually resorted to calling Katie but that had resulted in nothing more than a tearful one-way conversation that he desperately tried to extricate himself from without sounding like a total and complete bastard.
Something big was going down and whatever it was, Sean was the key. For whatever reason, the Russians were interested in him. He just had to find out why. Of course the easiest solution to that problem was Sean but with no way of contacting him, it was down to Vincent to get every available resource to find out what was going on and whether, as Ritter had predicted, the cold war had merely thawed.
Before he could begin to think the worst, a knock on the door disturbed him. His assistant, Jane, entered.
“Sir, we’ve got a hit on Sean Fox’ name at the State Department.”
“It’s barely 8.00!”
“I know but a request has just been filed to allow him to accompany Governor Brown to Moscow as a bodyguard.”
Vincent didn’t know where to start with the number of points that concerned him with regard to the news. However, one did stand head and shoulders above the rest, Governor Brown was visiting Moscow?
“Find out when and get Ritter in here yesterday!” he barked, the sudden increase in Russian activity with the number one contender for US President about to visit the country was not sitting well.
“And keep trying to get me Sean Fox!” he shouted through the closing door.
***
A similar message hit General Borodin’s desk not long after Vincent Black’s. A flag for anything referring to the name Sean Fox was also in place. Due to the timescales of Governor Brown’s request, it was fast tracked by the State Department directly to Moscow for a special VISA to be authorized which would allow Sean Fox to be armed.
As Borodin read the request, a mild panic set in. “I thought Pushkin had taken care of this?” he asked Vasiliy as he finished reading the request.
Vasiliy was ready for the question as he himself had asked the same question on reading the request.
“Look at the timing of the request.” He leant over and pointed at the 7.03 a.m. time stamp on the original request.
“Ah,” the form had been sent before Pushkin had relayed Fox’ untimely death. “Well, let’s not disappoint them, issue the VISA with immediate effect,” he smiled, handing the form back to Vasiliy.
“Of course, General,” offered Vasiliy before leaving the office and returning to his desk.
Vas
iliy picked up the phone and called the head of the VISA department.
“Gregor, issue the VISA with immediate effect,” he commanded.
“I’ll have it done by the end of the day,” replied Gregor cheerily.
“Sorry, Gregor, General Borodin said immediate,” emphasized Vasiliy, knowing that when Borodin said immediate he very much meant it.
“But we have standard checks and procedures to follow. What if he has a criminal record or is not fire arm trained?”
Vasiliy didn’t have time for this. “I expect a copy of his approved VISA within the next five minutes!” he barked, before ending the call.
It took less than three.
***
Vincent looked up as the knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He expected to see Ritter. Instead, Jane rushed in.
“Sir, State Department have just called regarding the Sean Fox flag,” she said breathlessly.
“What now?”
“His VISA’s been approved!”
“Excellent,” he replied and returned his attention to his computer screen.
“But that’s the thing, that doesn’t happen.”
“They don’t approve requests?”
“Not in less than fifteen minutes.”
“How long do they normally take?”
“The quickest on record, a very rushed one with a personal request from the President was 36 hours!”
Vincent’s interest went from just over 0 to 100% in an instant in what his assistant was saying, as did his concern for Sean’s wellbeing.
“Shit, did you get a hold of Sean?”
“No and no sightings since he left the border complex this morning.”
Vincent feared the worst. The Russians were sticklers for process and detail. The only way they would have happily issued a VISA was because they knew he wasn’t able to use it.
“What about the team at Corpus? Get me the team leader,” he snapped, his heart was racing as he feared the worst.
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