BlackStar Enigma

by T C Miller

  “I get weak bladder from father….” “One more excuse.”

  Sasha ignored the insult.

  Pyotr peered out the windshield at the half-dollar sized flakes drifting down. “Is like summer in Moscow.”

  Sasha grinned. “I do not like Moscow as much as I do not like Siberia…except for girls. Moscow girls are beautiful. Why do you stop?”

  “Do you not see road ends?”

  “I see nothing in snow but building.”

  “You are genius. We should check it out.”

  “Check it out? You say too much Amerikanski slang.”

  “I try to fit in, maybe you should try.”

  Pyotr turned the engine off and reached into the back seat for his coat. “Come.”

  “Why? Is warm in here.”

  “Not with engine off.”

  “Why is my life so hard?” Sasha mumbled as he reached for his coat.

  They walked around the building and Sasha mumbled, “Overhead door is locked.”

  “This door is not,” Pyotr pointed to a small entry door.

  “Is good to be out of wind,” Sasha said as he followed Pyotr inside.

  Fluorescent lights overhead sprang to life. “How do you do this?”

  “I do nothing,” Pyotr replied. “Must be motion sensor.”

  “I will have in my house.”

  “You have house?”

  “Nyet, but I will someday. Why is automobile here, and why is other spot empty?”

  “Good questions,” Pyotr replied as they walked past workbenches and tool cabinets mounted along the wall. “Building is heated. Strange, unless house is nearby.”

  They froze in their tracks at the sound of a noise from the other end of the building.

  NSA Headquarters Executive Conference Room

  “To answer the question, Carl, you are here to provide personal security for Nora and me,” Bart Winfield said. “I couldn’t go into detail over the phone since even our most secure lines may be compromised.”

  “Wasn’t complaining, Boss. Thought I might be in for a butt chewing.”

  John Banner chuckled. “That’s the second time

  I’ve heard that. Are we that rough on our people?” “Oh, no, Director, I don’t mean nothing…” “He’s messing with you, Carl,” Nora said.

  “On the contrary,” Bart added. “You’re here because we trust you.”

  Banner broke in, “Bart and Nora have nothing but great things to say about you. An incident here requires an agent we can count on a thousand percent, and they say you fit the bill to a T. I wanted to welcome you personally, but I’m going to leave the rest of this meeting to my capable Deputy Director while I go back to running the agency.” Banner closed the door behind him.

  “Now the pleasantries are over, we’ll get down to business,” Bart said to the group assembled around the conference table. “Looks like this will be my temporary office until repairs are made to mine. This is Jane, my capable secretary, who will be taking classified minutes. Let’s go round the table to record who’s here. The grizzly-looking guy with the scruffy beard is Bob Onkst, head honcho of TRT One…” “TRT One?”

  “Sorry, I forgot, you haven’t worked in ops before. Tactical Response Team One. The suspicious character sitting next to him is Ted Belk, our highest-rated sniper. You’ve already met Carl Dean from the BlackStar Ops Group strike team.”

  “Sorry to interrupt again, sir, but what is the

  BlackStar Ops Group?”

  “Level Ten Classified. I’ll read you into the program later. Let’s move on to the reasons you’re all here. Reasons since we have more than one…”

  Bob Onkst interrupted, “I thought we were here to protect you and Nora.”

  “You are, but the perps who planted the bomb more’n likely won’t stop at one try.”

  “Any clue who it might be?”

  “None,” Nora answered. “You would think a spy agency would have dozens of surveillance cameras in its headquarters. There are a lot fewer than I expected, and most are in elevator lobbies and stairwells. Still, we narrowed the list of suspects to three by process of elimination, and we’re pursuing them.”

  “Moving on,” Bart said. “I need you to secure the executive offices here and the condo in Georgetown. John Banner has designated six trusted members of NSA security to assist you. Limit their access to info by compartmentalizing everything you can. We have a mole in our midst, so keep it close to the vest.”

  “What about gear?” Ted asked. “I brought my personal stuff, but we’ll all need more.”

  “Sign out whatever you need from supply. Put down bomb investigation as the reason, and don’t chitchat. You’ve been assigned four armored Suburbans with communications suites to stay in touch. Now, I hate to cut this short, but I have another meeting. Use the reception space outside the door to work in until we find a more suitable location.”

  Onkst, Belk, and Dean filed out the door to find six NSA security team members waiting.

  Near Marston Ranch

  The small band trekked single-file through the gully as it gradually rose toward the veterinarian's home. Doc led, followed closely by Jake, Joanna, and their charges. Jake turned around often to check the highway below.

  “Looks like they’re coming down from the trees,”

  Jake said. “I count seven.”

  “Did they see which way we went?” Joanna asked.

  “Hard to tell, but it doesn’t matter. We left plenty of footprints they can follow.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Doc noted. “Snowfall got a lot heavier in the last ten minutes. It may cover our tracks and throw them off. Plus, we’re on rocky ground that hides our trail.”

  Jake nodded. “True, but I have an idea. You said the ravine splits up ahead. One way looks like it goes to your place, but leads down to the highway, instead, right?”

  “Yes. When I was a kid, we’d fool our city cousins by sending them the wrong way while we sneaked up to the house. You should have seen the look on their faces when they finally stumbled in.”

  “What if we pull the same trick on the people following us?” Jake said. “We walk past the split. You and the girls continue up the right branch while I walk back to the split, wiping the trail clean as I go. Then I leave tracks heading down the wrong gully.”

  Licia frowned. “Won’t that lead them right to you?”

  “Yes, but it will take them away from you.” “Is there any other way?” Joanna asked.

  “Nothing comes to mind,” Jake replied. “Doc?”

  “I’m drawing a blank, but this isn’t exactly my chosen line of work.”

  Joanna spoke softly to Jake, “The two of us could set a trap along the wrong ravine and eliminate them while Doc takes the girls to the house.”

  Jake leaned toward her until his frosty breath brushed her ear and whispered, “There’s a remote chance Doc could be a perp.”

  “Hadn’t considered the possibility. Cold must be slowing my brain.”

  Jake nodded and said to the others, “Safety of the girls is our number one priority, so Joanna is going to stay with them.”

  “You’re the team leader,” Joanna said. “Call the shots.”

  “Just did. Get Doc and the girls to his place and call for help. I’ll take out as many bad guys as I can, and you hold off the rest until help arrives.”

  “Like I said, you’re the boss. Y’all ready?”

  “Give me a minute,” Doc replied. “I want to try Mary on the two-way, now that we’re closer, and ask

  her to turn off the sensors.…”

  “Sensors?”

  “I had a sophisticated security system put in a few years ago, including cameras and motion sensors inside and out.” He noticed Joanna’s reaction. “Doesn’t everybody have an alarm system around their home?”

  Joanna smiled. “As a matter of fact, we do.”

  “Oh.”

  Jake added,. “Common in our line of work.”

  “And wh
at line of work did you say you’re in?” “Didn’t.”

  Doc pulled a handheld CB radio off his belt, and Mary replied in an instant, “What can I do for you, my sweet darling?”

  “I have people from the highway coming back with me. The truck’s shot, so we’re on foot. No time to explain, and before you ask, don’t come and get us. And don’t let anybody in till I get there. Have you seen anything moving outside?”

  “No, but I was in the laundry room. I’ll check the monitors in a minute.”

  “Good, and turn the alarms off, please.”

  “I couldn’t get them to come on, again. The panel kept showing a system error. Cameras are working, but they’re almost useless in this snow. Can’t see more than a few feet.”

  “Did you switch to infrared?”

  “We’ve talked about this. Do you really want me to play with your newfangled toys? Fiddle with it when you get back.”

  “Doesn’t do much good to have security if you don’t learn how to use it,” Doc grumbled. “Anyway, we’ll be there in less than half-an-hour.”

  “I’ll put coffee on. Be careful, and I love you.”

  “Love you, too, over and out.”

  “You didn’t tell her about the bad guys,” Jake said. “Didn’t want to scare her.”

  “That’s one way to handle it,” Jake said as he stomped his feet to warm them. “Hate to break up this party, but the sky’s getting darker by the minute, and snow is falling twice as hard. Besides shelter, we should put distance between us and the perps.”

  “Star, are you okay?” Joanna put a finger under the young woman's chin and lifted her head. Star’s eyes were glazed, and she mumbled an unintelligible reply. “Don’t you fade on me, sweet cheeks. Cowgirl up and stay with us. You hear me?”

  Star slowly nodded.

  “Whenever you’re ready, Doc.”

  ***

  Chapter Eight

  Neighborhood, Two Miles From NSA Fort Meade, Maryland

  “Why the change?” Joe Glass sat behind the wheel of the unmarked government vehicle parked on a quiet street a block from Justin’s car.

  Bill Barnes was working on the daily crossword puzzle and responded with an annoyed look, “Do I look like 411? What change?”

  “It’s a rhetorical question, goofball. I was referring to the fact this squirrel moved his lunchtime spot. Same routine week after week and now he changes it. Why?”

  “No idea. Besides, I’m trying to concentrate on this puzzle. What’s an eleven-letter word for vacation home?”

  “You mean where you could end up permanently if you don’t concentrate on your job?”

  “What, are you, my daddy, now?”

  “No, but evaluation time is coming up.”

  “You’d give me a bad eval because I’m passing time on a boring stakeout?”

  “No, but it would be nice if you helped figure this out. Remember, we’re supposed to be investigators.”

  “Whatever you say since you’re the boss.” Barnes folded the paper and stuffed it between his seat and the console. “Could be Todd got as bored with his old spot as we did.”

  “Yes, but he seems to be a creature of habit. He may have been warned about following regular patterns by his contact.”

  “Who would that be?”

  “How should I know? I’m just throwing it out there.”

  Barnes pulled the paper out, unfolded it and reached for the pencil in his pocket. “I’ll mull it over while I finish this puzzle.

  Glass sighed and stared at the sedan a block away. “By the way, genius, the word you’re looking for is condominium.”

  Highway 487, Near Initial Attack

  “What do you mean, targets escape?” Gregori Yancy bellowed into the radio.

  “Is unfortunate, but true,” Ivan answered.

  “Sniper was to disable vehicle they rode in.”

  “He did, so now they walk.”

  “In snowstorm, in barren country, on foot. Should be easy to find.”

  “Da.”

  “Inform me when you capture them.”

  Ivan placed the radio in a belt holder and spoke to the six men huddled around him. “Bocc is not happy, so I am not happy. We must locate targets soon, or bonuses will be gone. Nikolay, stay here. Targets may come back to vehicle.”

  “Yes, Ivan, I mean, Bocc.”

  “Rest will follow me. We capture women, or die trying.”

  Two team members exchanged looks of dismay behind Ivan’s back. They had not planned to die anywhere soon, especially not in snow-covered Wyoming in the winter. It reminded them too much of Siberia.

  Office Of The Director, NSA

  “DC Police couriered this over,” John Banner said as he extended a folder across the coffee table.

  A curl of steam rose lazily from his cup and curled into a shaft of sunlight. He savored a sip of his favorite blend and waited for Bart to read the file.

  Bart settled back into what had become his favorite chair. The smell of freshly-brewed coffee and doughnuts hung in the air as he examined the contents. “Why am I looking at a report of a mugging?”

  “Victim’s ID was phony, and Hans Boerman is an alias. We ran his fingerprints through Interpol, and his real name is Klaus Ronstadt. Ring any bells?”

  “Yeah, really old ones. Ronstadt was thrown out of the Stasi years ago for violating protocol. Couldn’t seem to follow orders. He bounced around to other Soviet intelligence organizations in East Berlin, and last I heard, moved into the private sector. That was ten years ago or so.”

  “The move was profitable,” Banner said. “Klaus formed a team to take on contracts for governments that wanted plausible deniability. There are even rumors he worked for American agencies doing off-the-books projects.”

  Bart shook his head. “Funny how some agencies want to hide their involvement in wet work. I hadn’t heard about Ronstadt’s off-the-books work, but I quit keeping track of things when I retired as Tupelo. Been too busy working for the Air Force, and now you. Tell me again, how does this connect to the NSA?”

  “Take a look at the list of his associates.”

  “Jack Morgan? International intel? Wouldn’t imagine him doing that.”

  “Until you take a closer look. I was a member of a West Coast interagency task force looking into smuggling and spying in the high-tech sector. We investigated anything crossing agency jurisdictions, including the DEA and their agent, Jack Morgan. He came up on our radar more than once, but we couldn’t pin anything on him.”

  “Drugs, maybe?”

  “Yes, but also high-tech thefts from the Silicon Valley, not to mention human trafficking in the Bay Area. We also suspected he was brokering classified intel.”

  “Sounds like he had his fingers in a lot of pies.”

  “No doubt about it. Could be why Morgan crashed the DEA helo into Seawind Bay during the raid. His body was never found, but we assumed he was dead.”

  Bart took another sip of the thick dark coffee. “There goes that assume thing, again. Everybody thought it was an accident.”

  “Which is what Morgan wanted us to believe. He may have found out we were onto him and staged his own death.”

  “Who told him he was under a microscope, and who could he work for? Have to be a huge

  organization to hide him.”

  The Director yawned and stretched before replying, “Yes, and with global reach to keep him overseas while the heat died down.”

  Banner yawned again. “Man, these long days and short nights are taking their toll. Our analysis says Morgan is getting help from a clandestine group that throws enough work his way to make him very wealthy. I’m about to brief you on information only a handful of people in the world have access to.”

  “Fire away, boss, but first, the coffee’s hitting me hard, so I need a quick break. Tell me before I go,

  what is this hush-hush spy ring called?” “The Consortium.”

  Consortium Commissioner’s Office Leipzig, Switzerlan
d

  “It seems Gregori Yancy and his crew have settled into a routine,” the Commissioner said as he puffed on a French cigarette.

  “Yes, Commissioner,” Gunter Wilhelm replied. “He was unhappy at the Deer Trail site, and I feared he might complain about the new accommodations. Quite the contrary, I have heard very little from him.”

  “One of life’s little blessings, I suppose,” The Commissioner said as he swiveled his chair around to stare out the large window at a picturesque alpine meadow.

  Gunter thought he might be losing the older man’s attention and quickly continued, “We have been monitoring the situation through hidden surveillance devices, and have uncovered nothing suspicious.”

  The Commissioner didn’t reply, and Gunter hoped he hadn’t crossed an invisible line. A minute went by. “Commissioner, are you all right?” Still no response. “Commissioner,” Gunter said emphatically.”

  The Commissioner spun the chair around with a startled look. “How dare you raise your voice?”

  “I, uh…you didn’t answer. I was concerned.”

  “Why would you worry? I was deep in thought and lost track of the conversation. Why do some people assume I am losing my faculties?”

  This isn’t the first time the old man seemed confused. “I have no idea, sir. We were discussing Yancy.”

  “Yes, yes, I know. He and his men seem to have settled into a routine.”

  “Indeed. As I said, my team in Toronto has been observing Yancy and crew through hidden devices.”

  “Which is standard protocol for suspicious clients. However, I ordered you here for more than an update about Yancy. How are operations in general in North America, and when are you moving to Deer Trail?”

  Gunter carefully chose his words, “You ordered me to move there two weeks ago, sir.”

  “Did I? Oh, yes, I remember now. You were to negotiate a lease with Yancy. Were you successful?”

  “The negotiation went well, and Yancy and his men moved to the old uranium mine in Wyoming.”

  “Excellent idea, Wilhelm.”