“Take a few of the wigs,” Marie said, “you can switch them out when you need to.”
Rachel donned one of the wigs and a pair of glasses and Jean took several photos, then wheeled over to the printers on the far wall.
“How’s your French?” Jean asked
“Took a year in high school. I can ask where the restroom is.”
“That wouldn’t work. What do you speak besides English?”
“Some Arabic and Spanish, but not fluent enough in either.”
“We’ll go with Canadian and American, but only use the American one as a last resort. Nobody hates Canadians. I’ll call when I’m finished.”
4
Yuriy finished his breakfast and moved to his study with a cup of tea. He heard the door open and knew who it was without turning around. Anatoly was expected, and even if he hadn’t been, Yuriy had known him so long he would have recognized the sound of his walk as he entered the room.
“Yuriy, my friend, to what do I owe the pleasure of your invitation?”
“A bit of housekeeping I was hoping you could help me with.”
“Anything to do with an operation you had running in America?”
“Exactly. You know we lost two deep cover agents who had been in place over thirty years.”
“And you have a suspect?”
“I’m not entirely sure. The CIA director started to get curious and we removed him. Turns out he had a daughter we didn’t get. The men we sent to take him out were also found dead in the house and the daughter was nowhere. Next thing we know our entire operation fails and our people disappear. Now she shows up in Paris a few days ago. I had two men on her, but she got away. One of them is dead and the other wounded.”
“Who were the men?”
“Grigory and Vladimir. Vladimir is dead and Grigory is in the safe house with a bullet in the leg. He said she was helped by an older Frenchman who showed up at her hotel.”
“Hmm…did Grigory get a good look at the Frenchman?”
“They were shooting at each other, so I’d imagine he didn’t.”
“Does this girl have any connection to intelligence that you’re aware of?”
“Other than her father being the former director of the CIA?”
“I guess that was a dumb question. Is she active?”
“She’s not working with the CIA, if that’s what you mean. We have enough assets still in place to confirm that.”
“So why the interest in her?”
“We’re pretty sure the CIA didn’t stop our operation. It appears to have been a private outfit. We have no information on where they’re based, what kind of resources they have, or what kind of personnel they have. All we have is the Prescott girl and the fact that our operation was stopped and all of our people were taken out.”
“So, you want to have a talk with the girl?”
“That would be the ideal, but either way I need her removed. Hopefully we can talk with her first and find out what she knows, but if you can’t take her alive, just make sure you cover your tracks.”
“I understand. I will head to Paris immediately.”
“Boris will arrange for your transportation, and for anything else you may need.”
“Thank you, my friend. I will notify you when I have her.”
Anatoly Karelin disconnected the call with Grigory and leaned back in his seat, staring out the window at the mottled landscape 35000 feet below. The girl had help at the hotel and there was only one man Anatoly could think of who fit Grigory’s description. If she was being aided by him, she might know the others, and if she knew them, she must know the old Jew. What was his name again? Oh yeah, Zielinski, one of the few operatives who got out early and went on to live a normal life, or somewhat normal, if obtaining a doctorate and teaching physics at Indiana University can be considered normal.
It had to be him. The girl was an American and she had just received help from one of the men who had been on Zielinski’s team all those years ago. Anatoly remembered it like it was yesterday and when he thought about it the pain was still raw. If the girl was in contact with Delacroix, she had to be working with Zielinski, and that meant she might be in contact with the Englishmen as well. Anatoly sipped his drink and brought back to mind the names of the team and where they might be today, and a plan formed in his mind. He could draw the girl out and settle an old score at the same time. He would have to run it by Yuriy, but he was sure his old friend would agree. He would call him when he reached Paris.
Jean called later that evening and Marie and Rachel helped him upstairs, where he presented Rachel with two new sets of identification, one Canadian and the other British.
“I would use the Canadian one unless you have a problem and need the other. Your accent would never pass for English and the simpler you can keep your story the better,” Jean said.
“I could say I’m a new British citizen.”
“I suppose that would work, but stick with the Canadian one for now. It should pass muster anywhere you want to go.”
“So…if I’m Canadian my name is Ann Williams and if I’m British I’m Jennifer Anderson.”
“Exactly. I’ve given you some background information to study as well. You’ll want to memorize that until you know it as well as your own information.”
“This is simple enough,” Rachel said after reading everything over, “but why British? You could have made me another set of American documents.”
“The popularity of Americans could be better.”
“You two continue going over things. I’m going to be in the kitchen. I’ll call when supper is ready,” Marie said.
Marie disappeared into the kitchen and Rachel went back to her documents, only to be interrupted by Jean shuffling a deck of cards.
“What do you say to a few hands while we wait for our supper? You have all night to look those over.”
“I don’t know many card games.”
“You don’t know Piquet?”
“I’ve never played. You’ll have to teach me.”
“It's a simple enough game to learn, but not an easy one to master. Let me show you the basics and we can have a few hands before supper.”
Several hands of Piquet and an exquisite supper later, they retired to the living room for tea and conversation, where it quickly became apparent that Jean would not be much of a conversation partner. His tea was mostly untouched and his head drooped off to one side.
“He’ll be snoring before long,” Marie said, and to Jean, “Honey, perhaps you should turn in. Maybe we should all turn in. It’s been a rather long day.”
Rachel made her excuses and walked down the hall to her bedroom while Marie helped Jean to bed. It wasn’t long before there were no sounds from the couple’s bedroom, but Rachel was wide awake, her mind racing through everything that had happened the last couple days. It had to be Yuriy, that much was obvious, but why? Or more importantly, how had he figured out who she was that quickly?
Rachel chided herself for not figuring it out faster. Of course they knew who she was, if Yuriy was able to put two and two together. He was the one who put the moles in place at the CIA and the FBI and he was most likely the one who had ordered the hit on her father. Of course, he knew who she was and he knew she hadn’t been killed in her parents’ house. She surfaced in Paris, was spotted, and Yuriy surmised that her dad must have passed on information to her and she was the one who stopped his plan.
So now some Russian she only knew by a first name was after her because he correctly surmised that she was at least partially responsible for thwarting him. She was a loose end, nothing more. Did Yuriy know about the Delacroixs? Did he know about Zielinski? She needed to know the answer to those questions. Avi had thought ahead enough to provide her with Jean’s contact in the event she should need someone to reach out to. That was Avi. He was always thinking ten steps ahead. He was like her dad in that regard. She hadn’t really had much time to grieve Dad, but now the memories came flood
ing in and she didn’t try to stop it. She buried her head in the pillow and let the tears flow, waking up several hours later still face down in a tear-soaked pillow.
“How sure are you of that?” Yuriy asked when Anatoly finished giving him the run down.
“Well, it certainly adds up. She had help in Paris. Delacroix fits the description Grigory gave me and we know he’s worked with Zielinski and those two Brits. We know Zielinski is retired and living in America. I have no proof the girl is working with him, but if she is, we might be able to roll the whole lot of them up and take care of her at the same time.”
“What do you need from me?”
“Just your permission.”
“To do what?”
“Whatever is necessary.”
Yuriy hung up the phone and turned his attention back to the man who was sitting in the sofa across from him.
“So that was Anatoly Karelin?” the man asked, “I’ve heard good things about him.”
“Yes, Anatoly is very good at what he does.”
“And what he is doing at the moment…I trust it pertains to our present mission?”
“Anatoly knows nothing of that, but his mission could still serve our interests.”
“Enlighten me.”
“The Prescott girl surfaced in Paris. We need to find out what she knows, or remove her from the equation.”
“Do you think she could be a threat?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but I suspect she had a part in stopping our plans last month.”
“Do you have any evidence?”
“Very little. We know her father was digging where he shouldn’t have been and he needed to be dealt with. Our team succeeded in taking him out, but they never reported in. They were found dead in the Prescott’s house and the daughter was nowhere to be found. There was nothing on Prescott’s computer, but we don’t know how much he told his daughter.”
“How about these other players Karelin mentioned? How do they fit into this?”
“Two of my agents in Paris spotted the girl, but were clumsy. One’s dead and the other is wounded. She was with an older man in the hotel. If that man is who we think he is, then she could be working with a group of operatives that we had a run- in with 40 years ago.”
“Now is not the time to settle old scores, Yuriy.”
“I’m well aware of that, but if she’s working with them, they could be the ones responsible for stopping last month’s operation. We don’t think it was a state sponsored group. There is a private group out there and they have enough resources to present a problem.”
“So, you think this girl is part of that group?”
“She’s obviously in contact with one of them. It’s the only thing that makes any sense. How else were we stopped?”
“So Karelin is there to find out what she knows?”
“He’s to take her alive if possible, or eliminate her if taking her proves too problematic.”
“Well, if what you tell me is true, Karelin’s mission is vital to our interests and future plans. If such a group is out there, they could present a threat.”
“I will notify you of any developments.”
“Please do. I trust that our mission will still go forward as planned?”
“Of course.”
“Please give Karelin any support he needs to fulfill his part. I cannot stress enough the importance of removing any possible obstacles.”
“Anatoly is one of my best men. I trust him completely.”
“Yet you haven’t shared the entirety of our plans with him.”
“He knows his part and that is enough for now. We can’t risk any one person knowing too much.”
“You think he would talk?”
“Everyone talks eventually. It’s not a risk we can take, not after what happened with the last operation.”
“I trust that you have matters well in hand and that we can proceed with the next step in our operation by the end of the week.”
“Yes, everything is in place.”
“Come in, Boris,” Yuriy said in response to a knock at the study door.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Boris said, “but will your guest be staying for dinner?”
“I would love to, but I have pressing matters in Moscow and I must get back there.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Yuriy said, “I’ll have Boris fly you there after we eat. You wouldn’t mind, would you Boris?”
“Not at all sir. It would be my pleasure.”
“There you go,” Yuriy said, “you can stay for dinner and still make it to Moscow in plenty of time for whatever business you need to attend to.”
“If that is the case, I believe I will bother you for another glass of that excellent Scotch.”
5
Ken Omondi heard the phone but didn’t hear it. He was sitting on his back porch in Mfangano gazing out at the water and drifting in and out of sleep. Elijah was in Nairobi getting the plane serviced, an amphibious cargo plane they affectionately called Nyangumi. Nyangumi was an HU-16 Albatross that Ken had made a few improvements to, mainly larger fuel tanks and some engine improvements to get more range. The plane had served he and Elijah well over the years and had earned them quite a lot of money, most of the time through legal means.
Whoever was calling was rather insistent; the calls kept hitting voice mail and then the phone would ring again seconds later.
“Bugger all, I’d better answer it, won’t get a moment’s peace otherwise,” he said to himself as he picked up the phone.
“Ken, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Avi Zielinski said from the other side of the world.
“Only a nap and a possible hangover.”
“Don’t tell me you’re hungover at this hour.”
“Not yet, but I was planning on working on that.”
“You might want to put that on hold. How’s Nyangumi?”
“Trim as ever. Elijah has her in Nairobi for another makeover.”
“I trust this is more than routine maintenance.”
“You can never have too much range. I don’t like stopping for gas.”
“I hope she's ready soon. I might have need of your services again.”
“Would this be a profitable venture?”
“Probably not. I’m not sure how much I dare say over the phone. We might have a situation in Europe. I’ll call you back when I have more information.”
“What part of Europe?”
“At the moment, Paris.”
“Paris is lovely this time of year. I’m up for a vacation.”
“This might be more than the average vacation. We might need someone on hand with your particular skill set.”
“I’m with you. Keep me posted.”
Anatoly Karelin landed at Charles de Gaulle and within minutes was in a rental car headed for the safe house to meet with Grigory. There wasn’t much Grigory could tell him that he didn’t already know, but it was too early in the day to go to the Delacroix’s house. Also, he could use the time at the safe house to pick the brains of the operatives there. It had been years since he’d been in Paris and these men were infinitely more familiar with the city than he was.
He passed the safe house and parked around the block, waking back to the house and knocking on the door when he was satisfied he hadn’t been followed.
“Come on in Mr. Karelin, we’ve been expecting you, “said a young man Anatoly didn’t recognize.
“Thank you…”
“Pavel.”
“Thank you, Pavel. How is Grigory?”
“He just woke up. He’s still in some pain, but he can talk to you if you’d like.”
“I would like to very much.”
“Okay, this way.”
The man lead him to a small bedroom at the end of the hall where Grigory was propped up in bed sipping a glass of water.
“Hello Grigory, how are you feeling?”
“How does it look like I’m feeling?”
“Like cr
ap.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“Did you get the information I sent you from the plane?”
“Yes, the young man who let you in is working on it right now.”
“Pavel?”
“Yes. Pavel is a genius on a computer. He’ll have you everything he can find before the end of the day. He’ll probably know what the old man had for breakfast.”
Ahmed set the coffee cup down on his desk and walked over to hand Miriam a cup of tea. Given what was going on in Paris, they had been pulling long hours at the office trying to come up with anything that could help Rachel. So far it was a dead end.
“Thank you, “Miriam said, taking the tea.
“See anything yet?”
“Nothing at all. The computer is searching for those names Avi gave us. If anyone is looking for them, we’ll be alerted.”
“Does Avi think they could be connected with what’s going on over there?”
“It’s a hunch he had. I don’t think he’s telling us everything.”
“How do you figure?”
“I don’t know. The way I see it, the man in Russia, this Yuriy guy…he’s the one who was behind the attack we stopped. He was behind the moles and everything. I figure he was behind killing Rachel’s parents, so he has to know about her and that she got out alive. What he doesn’t know is what she knows, but he has to suspect she had something to do with stopping his plans, so he has these two thugs following her in Paris. Maybe he’s been following her since she left here. Who knows? But Dr….Avi…he gives Rachel a contact in Paris from years ago and now Rachel’s at his house, then this morning Avi gives me two other names and tells me to keep an eye out for anyone searching for them. I think he might have an idea who this Russian is, or he at least has a suspect in mind.”
“You think the Russian could be connected to these other names? Who are they anyway?”
The Korean Gambit Page 3
