The Suitcase

by T V Scribner

  The document was in Russian! Boone became agitated and scooted his chair closer to the computer, “Ingles, I need these documents printed!”

  Putting more paper in the printer tray, Boone watched, as it began clicking, whirring and making assorted other noises, while he eagerly waited. When the first page printed, he grabbed it, then reached for a spiral notebook, and while watching the computer screen, began to translate the decrypted message.

  When the printer stopped and the printed pages sat in the tray, Paisley leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms in the air, realizing how tense her back muscles were, from her concentrated efforts over the keyboard.

  While Boone began typing on his computer, as fast as he could to translate the pages, he uttered strange sounds and expletives, as he worked. Paisley was rife with curiosity, but didn’t want to distract him in any way. He completed his translations, and sat in stunned silence for a moment, before asking her to move closer, so he could show her what the pages revealed

  To her horror, as he read out loud, all their fears were realized, because the papers confirmed their worst nightmare. The object sought by the Russians, was indeed, a suitcase bomb, better known in Zolotov's, communications from his Russian boss, as the chemodan, or in English, the suitcase!

  Boone's grasp of the Russian language, astonished Paisley, and realizing he had these amazing skills, along with his newly divulged job description, she suddenly felt very small and inadequate.

  "Okay," she said, for lack of anything else to say, and turned her attention to the computer screen. Both fell silent. Time had dragged for Boone, but now, having the information they sought, there was so much at stake, that time was of the essence!

  "It's clear, according to these older articles from my research," Paisley said, "the suitcase bomb the Russians are looking for, was one of many ordinates buried in different locations around the world, at least according to some government Intel!"

  She grabbed another article and read bits and pieces to Boone, and both understood the ramifications of this information. Her gaze was fixed on Boone. “I guess it’s time to act, to prevent the worst-case scenario, from happening,” she said. “Do you have a plan D, since we’ve already used A, B, and C?”

  Boone looked at her with such grim determination, that she paled for a moment, never having seen a look like this, on his face. She was filled with fear—he wasn’t amused anymore!

  "What're we going to do?" she asked, "I hope your plan up will save Brainerd, and possibly the world?” He laughed out loud this time, when he saw the serious look on her face. His laugh made her smile, too. She couldn't believe she said that—again! However, this was no time to be joking, she realized, but then again, she wasn't joking!

  Boone's face became serious again, and he said, "I need to contact my men…there's no time to explain everything right now, so you please trust me and do what I say, no questions asked—I’ll explain everything to you as needed, and the rest later, because this is the time for action, deal?"

  She hesitated for a moment and looked deeply into his eyes, replying with great seriousness, "Deal! Just tell me what to do."

  "Come on then, let's pack up this equipment, and please make a couple of printouts of the translated info, and while you do that, I have calls to make!"

  He started out the door, but quickly turned around to tell her he sent a special email address to her. She was to email a copy of the decrypted info to the address, then erase the message. He turned again, and ran out the door to the van, to grab his SAT phone.

  "Riley?"

  "Here, boss."

  "Give me whatever you have, I'm finished here, and packing up now," he said, as he tossed a satchel into the back of the van.

  "First," Riley said, “I want you to know, we've done a prelim investigation of Dave Kaufman's murder in your apartment."

  "And?" Boone grimaced at the mention of Dave's name, as it brought back the bloody mess he’d confronted, the night before.

  "I think we've found the perp's car, and needless to say it was stolen and wiped clean, of course! We're testing other samples taken from the car, but chances are they belong to its owner, not the perp.”

  "Figures!" Boone muttered.

  "Based on a description given to us by a man who'd been walking his dog around the time of the murder," Riley added, "the suspect had been hanging around a park close to the spot where the car was stolen. When the perp walked by the witness with the dog, the witness heard the man talking on his cell, apparently arguing with someone in what the witness thought was some sort of foreign language. He thought it sounded like Russian, but couldn't be sure."

  "Was the guy close enough to get a description?"

  "Yes, he gave a pretty good description, because he thought it was weird the way the man was behaving. He walked by him twice, as he circled the park with his dog. It was the second pass where he heard the perp on his cell, and he said the man was very focused on the phone call."

  "Okay, maybe a lucky break, I hope!”

  "We brought the witness in and showed him our version of mug shots, Russian style—only the perps found to be in the US, and Bingo! Our perp is a two-bit crook, probably on the payroll of the Russians. We're still researching his background, to find out more. We've got a couple of men trying to locate him now, but no luck yet. The Russian group, here in Minnesota, is a tricky and deadly bunch connected to the Russian Mafia, willing to kill whoever gets, in their way."

  "Okay, good job, Riley. I want to get this low-life at any cost," and he ordered Riley to have the men and trucks ready to roll and explained the coordinates of the actual site would be in an email that was just being sent, over the Agency's network. "Also, tell Sanchez to print out multiple copies for the men, on the task force.”

  "Roger, that!" Riley acknowledged.

  "Make sure everyone has their protective and tactical gear with them, according to which part of the operation they’ve been assigned, and please bring a set for me, in fact bring another couple of sets in the smallest size. I'm bringing Detective Ingles with me, to protect her from any attacks, by these animals. It’s a long story for later!"

  Riley answered, "Roger that, and I think the email just arrived, so I'll start immediately.”

  "Oh, and when you have a chance, log onto the secure site, to acquire the tactical maps, relayed to us, from our spy planes on duty, with their satellite equipment. Thanks to them, we have the exact location of the Russian's bivouac and it will be our first strike point!”

  "We'll be ready, Boone," Riley said. "Now what about the rest of the team?"

  Boone said, “The rest of the team will focus on retrieval. If we can take out most of their forces with the first team, we'll have no interference, in our task. I listed all the equipment to be flown to the retrieval location, including the nuclear physicists, whom I've arranged to have, on call, along with the equipment they'll need."

  "You got it Boss, it'll be handled, stat."

  Boone walked back towards the cabin and paused in his conversation. As he approached the cabin's door, it flew open, and Ingles came barreling out with equipment to put, in the van. Brushing by him, she set the computers and printer by the truck, then hustled back for the last few backpacks.

  Boone turned his back to her, as he finished the conversation with Riley. "I'll be on my way shortly. I'll call you back, so we can discuss the rest our plan, and we'll go from there. It's imperative that we beat them to the punch! We can't afford to fail, because from what you told me, they could already be on their way, so we must arrive first—before it becomes a real situation!”

  "Roger that!" And Riley broke their connection.

  CHAPTER 35

  Cayuna Iron Range

  "Off we go!" Boone said. “Now, I'll call Riley to verify plans for this operation while we drive."

  Boone took out the SAT phone and called headquarters. His Task Force Leader, picked up, and Boone said, "Riley, what's new?"

  Riley closed
the door to the communications room for privacy and quiet, then said, “That was fast! Look, at this point, I think our best plan, now that we know what’s really at stake, is to consider who we're up against. It’s a bunch of Russians! We figured out what they're bringing to the table, and on this basis, we’ve determined what we need to bring, to that same table."

  "Perfect," Boone said, "so, hit me with everything uncovered about their assets. Who are they and how do they operate."

  As Paisley listened intently to Boone's conversation, she could hear a tone in his voice, which revealed the confidence he had in Riley’s abilities. She leaned her head back on the seat, exhausted from the morning's stressful work and continued to listen, as Boone apprised Riley of the information just obtained, from the decrypted documents.

  Boone asked, “Are the Russians still being tailed? If so, what did you find out?"

  "The rest of the men, connected to this Zolotov character, are definitely Russians. There seems to be a whole boat-load of them living here in Crow Wing County. Zolotov contacted them by phone and fortunately, Mishka was here to translate for us. We ascertained, from the conversations, that whatever Zolotov had planned, was critical, and he ordered the group to amass today, in a location somewhere in the Cayuna Range."

  "Do you have the specific location?"

  "We're still working on it. We planted bugs in Zolotov's home, to tap into their communications, and managed to attach a GPS device to Zolotov's car, but of course, one of the new guys in town picked him up in a black van, with no visible license plate. It appeared to be a tactical vehicle."

  "These guys are cagey! Do you think they know they're being surveilled?"

  "I don't think so," Riley answered, “but can’t be sure…we have a man tailing them now. The Russians have been driving off-road, through deserted areas, for several hours, so we should know their final location soon."

  “Perfect! Let me know their exact location, as soon as possible. We have pinpointed it with our satellites, so we need to zoom in to the exact spot.””

  "Also, according to our man, Jim," Riley continued, "another group of tactical vehicles, are being followed. They left hours before the second group, and stopped in an area close to a cluster of old, historical mine sites. They’re setting up a camp near a large, ramshackle storage barn. Looks like they’re waiting, for the others to arrive. The conversations we intercepted, that Mishka translated, indicated there may be upwards of twenty, or thirty men, expected at the camp, soon!"

  "What the heck?" Boone exclaimed. "Are they sending a platoon? I didn't anticipate those numbers! It's like they're coming out of the woodwork—it's a Russian infestation! I knew this wouldn’t be a cake-walk, but this is ridiculous! Well, in a way, I guess I'm not surprised, because what they're planning, is BIG!"

  "And yes, Boone, there is a tracking device on one of the vehicles in that group too." Riley added, "According to the reconnaissance by our head man, Dino, with Mishka translating, this is not a KGB-type military group, but more akin to a bunch of Russian Mafia mercenaries, assembled into a guerrilla group, and like rebels, they're ready to fight with whatever they can get their hands on, which is plenty!"

  Even with the noise of the van's engine, the speed with which Boone drove, caused the van to jounce along, adding to the din. Nonetheless, Paisley was still able to hear some of what Riley said. She felt like she was eavesdropping on something top secret! She was beginning to feel drowsy.

  Riley said, "The men did a great job gathering Intel, which indicated these thugs don't have the newer weaponry, but instead, are using weapons such as, the good old Makarov PNs, which holds 8+1, 9 x 18 mm rounds. They're older, but probably work better for this particular band, of Russians!”

  "Figures," Boone said, "because since the 80s, those weapons are easy to acquire anywhere in the US, and they wouldn't even need to smuggle them into our country!”

  Opening her eyes for a moment, she glanced out the window, then panicked, "Look out!" she yelled, as they careened around a twist in the road, and narrowly missed a tree positioned too close to the road. Boone took the warning in stride, avoided the tree, and looked at her, puzzled by her concern. She settled herself down again, after her scare.

  Riley continued, "We also think the men have AK-47 C’s—aka, Kalashnikovs, but from a distance, it was hard to tell. My men said it looked like the shortened version, which would be easier to carry because it uses shorter rifle rounds, (760 x 39).”

  "Good to know, Riley!"

  “Through our extensive research, we know these men are extremely tough criminals, and will attack like a typical guerrilla force. We've seen, and dealt with, these types before!"

  "I hear you on that one," Boone said. "Yes, they're low-tech, and use the finger-point-and-fire technique, instead of gun sights!" He chuckled.

  "Well, that may be, but these men look extremely ferocious, and Mishka thinks some of them are from the Special Forces Unit, Spetsnaz! However, you'll be pleased to know, the radar imagery of the area where the first group traveled to, enabled us to locate their exact bivouac, which matches the info from our drones. Several armored personnel carriers were spotted, which are also, easy enough to acquire, in the US.”

  Boone ruminated on this for a moment, as he raced down the road, and furrowing his brow, he commented, "This is disturbing."

  “And, I hate to tell you, Boss," Riley added as a sidebar, " but get this, we think they also have, a couple of RPG's!" Riley put Boone on hold for a moment.

  Paisley, could not believe what she heard, and whispered, "How did they manage that?"

  “Easy,” Boone said, in a serious tone, “the stuff is smuggled from South Africa to South America, and from there, up to Mexico, and then across the Mexican border, into the US. All they have to do then, is pick up a transport vehicle and head for Minnesota, with their cargo."

  At this information, she managed a weak whistle, "They certainly do mean business!"

  Riley came back on line and proceeded, "Sorry for the interruption, but to continue, I want you to know, according to our assessment of the situation, as of this moment, and in our best judgement, we have the advantage in this operation.”

  "I would hope so, " Boone responded.

  "The men, which you’ve chosen, are highly trained in the use of the latest technology. There are twenty-five men here at the moment, skilled in all the areas needed, so how would you like to proceed?"

  Frowning for a moment, as the van continued to lurch along the road, throwing out dust clouds, he answered, "Here's what I think we should do. We'll divide the men into two teams, Alpha and Delta." Boone, knowing they had all the coordinates, continued, "Alpha will go directly to the location of the suitcase bomb, where all the equipment necessary to retrieve it, will be located."

  "Copy that," Riley said, "and I have the list of the equipment and vehicles already delivered, to the area where you'll be encamped, including everything needed, for the actual extraction. We've been busy bees! I'll go over all of it with you, when you arrive, at base camp."

  "Roger that." Boone said, and they disconnected. Once the conversation was over, Paisley couldn't help herself from asking, "Who is this Riley, guy?"

  "Riley? Matt Riley, is first in command of my task force, and compiled the maps and information, needed for our tactical operation. You and I, furnished the last bit of data, needed to make this operation a 'go'!"

  She calmly said, "Roger that," knowingly using Boone's lingo, and smiled to herself, then settled into the car seat to get more comfortable before asking, "What's your connection to Riley? Anything other than you work together? It seems like you're more than just team mates."

  “Astute of you to notice, because Matt Riley and I go way back. We attended the same academy in Maryland, where we forged our friendship. Military school, with all its demands and expectations, can make or break you, and neither one of us, were the type to be broken. Therefore, we became very competitive, both of us graduating with honors.
We were sent on to a tour of duty in Iraq, and later to Afghanistan, but always in the same area. Although we served in different units, we did see each other frequently."

  "Go on," she said, "surely, that can't be all?"

  She was being jostled around on her seat, as the dirt roads became rougher. On occasion, she put her hands on the dashboard to counterbalance herself around turns. Having Boone talk, gave her something else to concentrate on, making his crazy driving easier to handle. She encouraged him to continue.

  "Okay, I suppose it won't hurt. Riley was a sharpshooter, and I served in a special unit that handled security and became an embedded spy, in the Iraqi citizenry, tasked with infiltrating groups associated with Isis and the Taliban, to gain sensitive information, on their leaders. I was also sent to some locations, to assassinate identified leaders. We both excelled in our ability to speak the languages.”

  Ingles, surprised by this revelation said, "Wow. Maybe I shouldn't have asked?"

  "If it bothers you, I won't say anymore."

  "No, it's okay...please go ahead...I want to hear the rest."

  "Well, I'll be brief. When the war was finally over, Riley and I returned to the US, and were individually recruited for a Special Forces Unit with the CIA, which took us to Afghanistan, where we served in the same small, elite group."

  "But you're not in a unit now, yet I get the impression that you have contracted men you knew, to help on this operation, is this true?"

  "Well, yes, it’s true, but I haven't told you the rest."

  "OK, then, I'm still listening..."

  "Riley married when he returned from Iraq, but with the kind of work he did, the marriage was short-lived, and his wife divorced him, so he went to Quantico for two years, and became a member of the FBI for a while, then contracted out."

  She sighed heavily in frustration and said, "Aren't you going to tell me the rest about you? Did you marry?" She was annoyed that he was making her drag it out of him. Boone was quiet, concentrating on his driving. One side glance, told her he was weighing his decision, as to whether he should divulge more information.