by D S Kane
The other four former bodyguards held their positions near the doorway.
Ben-Levy backed away, relieved he could still hold his balance. He tried to pace near the bed, and found it difficult. “It was a mistake to come here. We’re running out of time. Damn your police scanner app.”
Lester’s face reddened. “I have a bad feeling that the incident that brought her to the hospital involves you, Mother. And we’re short-staffed. We need all the help we can muster. We need Sashakovich.”
At the sound of her name, Cassie’s eyes popped open. She tried to rise from the bed. Lester held her down. “Easy, Cassie. You’re lucky to still be around.”
She dropped back on the mattress. “It doesn’t feel like luck to me.” She grimaced. “My head feels like a bowling ball that just hit the pins.” She blinked a few times. “What happened to the people in the other vehicle?”
“All four are dead.”
She let out a deep breath. “That’s a relief. They shot at me. Can you tell me why they targeted me? Does this have to do with Avram’s assignment?”
Ben-Levy stepped forward. “Ms. Sashakovich, Dushov believes they assumed you are part of the team we’re assembling for a critical mission.”
“What? What’s the mission?”
He frowned. “Time is of the essence. We’re all in danger. Our first priority is leaving this hospital and finding someplace safe. Then I will explain the mission and why I think they tried terminating you. Lester is correct. Like it or not, because they targeted you, you’re with us now, a part of the team.”
She tried again to rise off the mattress. This time, Lester supported her elbow. “Okay, then. Get me out of here.”
Lester handed her a small bag containing her clothes. He pointed to the restroom. She rose and he helped her to the door. “Your clothing is filthy, but this is all we have. Leave the hospital gown in the bathroom. Hurry.”
She nodded and closed the door. In minutes she was dressed, and they were all ready to leave the room.
As they exited, Lester turned and faced them. “Wait here for a bit. I’ll get some tools.” He quickly rummaged an unlocked utility closet and turned toward the others. “Okay,” he said. “Go now.” The others took the staircase toward the lobby. Lester was behind them again before they reached the door. “Put these on over your clothes.” He handed them each medical staff aprons and surgical hats. “There’s a café cross the street on the southwest corner. We meet there to plan our next move.”
Yigdal Ben-Levy caught his image in a glass door in the lobby. His face was drawn and pale. He grimaced. I’m going to die very soon. Either this all works or my life is for naught.
One at a time, they marched through the lobby and exited into the dark, snow blowing across the icy street. Once inside the café, they removed their surgical garb and prepared to continue on their journey.
CHAPTER 18
Starbucks Coffee,
K Street, Washington DC
February 23, 5:09 p.m.
Cassie sipped a latte as she punched Avram’s cell number into her phone. She picked at the bandage on her arm while she watched the street for anything that might indicate their location was blown. As for the café, it was almost empty.
The others sat at a table in the back, hidden from the street. Yigdal tapped his fingers on the tabletop until Lester touched his hand. “Stop. You’re annoying us.”
Cassie turned away from the others and held one hand over her other ear. “Avram? I’m a block from the office, in the local Starbucks with the rest of the team. What’s your status? How will we travel to Manhattan? Is there an available aircraft ready?”
The reply was a nearly silent, “Yeah, we have transport available. But the airport is closed to outgoing commercial flights due to the blizzard. They estimate at least two hours, maybe three or four, before resuming operations. We can rent private aircraft, but if we do, we’re more likely to alert our trackers.”
She turned and whispered his reply to the others.
Lester shook his head. “We don’t even have a safe way of reaching either Reagan or Dulles. We’ll need an entirely new plan.”
“What about driving?” They all faced Yigdal.
Lester shook his head. “To New York City? No way. On a four-hour trip, there’d be too many opportunities to find and exterminate us.”
Yigdal nodded. “You’re right, of course. So we must reach the airport. But they’ll be expecting us to do just that.”
Lester shrugged. “Any way we travel, they’ll find us. They probably have hackers working on all the traffic cams between Washington and Manhattan with facial recognition technology. It’s what I would do.”
Yigdal shook his head. “No matter what, I must reach the United Nations while they are in general session. No one else is willing to tell the world what is about to happen. Even if I succeed, the United Nations must act after they hear me or it’s all for nothing. If the global publicity can’t stop this invasion, the United States is doomed.” Ben-Levy jolted in pain, a bubble of blood on his lips.
He wiped it with a tissue. “I haven’t much time.”
Dushov nodded. “Okay. We’re all with you. We need to make another plan. A really good one.” He nodded to Cassie, who had turned the speaker on.
“Avram, did you hear that?”
“Yeah. I’ll call Jon and find out his status, and Betsy’s and William’s.”
CHAPTER 19
Room 317, Mandarin Oriental Hotel,
1330 Maryland Avenue, SW,
Washington, DC
February 23, 5:20 p.m.
Alone in the elevator, Dmitri Sokol pulled his gloves off and took his 9mm Beretta from the pocket of his sodden trench coat. He flipped the safety off and chambered a round. Before the doors could open, he’d replaced it in his coat pocket. Then he took off his fedora and shook the melting snow from it.
Part of his mind was wandering over the mission failure of one of his two teams at the Israeli mission. He’d watched the debacle from a window in a building across the street and saw Ben-Levy leave, accompanied by a small contingent of armed men. He’d been tempted to kill Ben-Levy by himself, but he most certainly would have been killed by the bodyguards. He knew he’d get other chances. Although he wasn’t afraid of death, he had another mission to complete: the assassination of Cassandra Sashakovich. For him to succeed, he needed to complete both missions.
He worried about not having heard from the team he sent to terminate Sashakovich. They were overdue to report, but he was sure they could accomplish their mission. Certainly a single woman could not defeat them by herself.
The rest of him was focused on the next step in his primary mission. He considered the task at hand. How many of them would be there waiting? Was this a meeting of partners or an ambush by enemies? He’d been told by President Pushkin to expect the first. But he’d survived within the KGB and now within the SVR by being diligent and focused on the worst case in any scenario.
He scanned the corridor before leaving the safety of the lift and stepping onto the carpet. The mirrored walls of the hotel were a definite problem for him but they would also hinder the bodyguards of the man he was there to meet.
The floor was quiet and empty. He stepped lightly, his rubber-soled shoes silent as he approached the room that was the assigned meeting place. He knocked on the door and moved to the side.
The door opened. The man was tall for an Asian, at least eight inches taller than Sokol.
“Ambassador Lew?”
The man who’d opened the door stood aside and pointed to a shorter man who rose from the couch. Zhai Lew showed both hands. Empty. He extended one hand. “I believe we shake hands now, Major Sokol.”
Sokol withheld the frown he felt. They shook hands as he scanned the room, then moved a chair against the wall far from the terrace door. He placed his coat on the floor against the chair’s leg and, without being asked to, he sat. “What is the status of your teams?”
Zhai lowered himself into a chair against the opposite wall, also out of sight line from the windowed terrace. “I have a cyber team watching all the major roads and every airport between Washington and Manhattan. I also have terminators in Manhattan as a last resort. What about your teams?”
Sokol was silent for a moment. He didn’t trust any of the Chinese and wanted to tell this man as little as possible. But as the silence became protracted, he relented. “We tried to kill them all at the Israeli embassy in Washington. Lost several of my men and the targets are now in the wind.” He stared away, toward the kitchen.
Zhai didn’t seem to notice. “So, now they know we want them dead. Not good. But we’ll get other chances, and my men are the best assassins in all China. How many men do you field?”
“Twenty-two came with me. All FSB and SVR veterans, all officers. They are skilled with Systema, Russian martial arts, and have experience defending against the Krav Maga of the Israelis. We also have several choppers armed with air-to-ground missiles.”
Zhai nodded. “I suggest you arrange your coverage with half your men along the interstate and the other half around Reagan and Dulles Airports.” He looked at his hands. “I have two hundred fifty-seven, but all are either cyber warriors or marksmen. I have no hand-to-hand-combat experts. I’ll station my men at the bridges and tunnels surrounding Manhattan.”
Zhai paused and the room went dead quiet. “I understand you have a second target. Not just Ben-Levy. Our intelligence service intercepted a message suggesting your president sent you to personally terminate Cassandra Sashakovich.”
Sokol’s eyebrows rose as he swiveled to face Lew. How could they have discovered this? A leak in his organization was the most obvious possibility. His voice rose in pitch just a bit. “She was responsible for the death of our president’s brother. I was tasked with that termination before this so-called plan to replace the American government was decided on. It is not your business. Understood?”
Sokol hated the Chinese for the border war they’d initiated with Russia four years ago. His younger brother had been one of its casualties. The Chinese diplomat said nothing. He just stared at Sokol.
After almost fifteen seconds, Sokol shrugged. “So, if this operation is successful, we will split the country, with us occupying everything west of the Mississippi and you everything to the east. And once again our troops will face each other across a border.”
Zhai was silent again. He frowned. Almost a minute passed. “We have very little time remaining until we’re ready to initiate the takedown of the American electric grid. At the same moment, for both our countries kinetic operations will begin. Alert your team and have them stop the Israelis. Forget Sashakovich until the mission is completed. After the invasion, her death won’t even be noticed. And do not fail again.”
Sokol restrained the urge to reach for the gun under his coat. He took several deep breaths. “Da. I go now.”
From the bedroom, an Asian carrying an automatic rifle emerged and escorted Sokol to the door.
Zhai shouted at the Russian, “It’s good you didn’t reach for your gun. We detected it when you passed over the doorstep. Don’t bring one with you the next time we meet.”
Sokol cursed in Russian as he reached the elevator. He pulled the collar of his trench coat up. He expected the snow to be heavier now.
CHAPTER 20
American National Bank,
351 Park Avenue, New York, New York
February 23, 5:33 p.m.
Susan Rubin paced behind her desk, the cellphone to her ear. She found her situation frustrating. “Avram, are you sure this is what you want?”
“Yes. I think it best for you to remain in your office until one of us contacts you. There are too many loose ends. We need you as command central to ensure messages don’t get dropped.”
She sighed, loud enough for him to hear it. “Crap. I feel so useless.”
“No, you are still essential to our success. William, Jon, and Betsy are at Reagan Airport in Washington, and we need to establish a location where we can join up with them. Once you hear from any of them, and we have established the site for a meet, you can rest for a while.”
She shrugged her shoulders although Avram couldn’t see her. “Okay. But we’re wasting my time here.” She terminated the call and sketched plans on a tablet to sharpen her thinking.
She felt out of practice. It was years since she was operational.
But Jon, William, and Betsy had been dark for hours, and none were answering their cells. She felt helpless. She’d need to be precision focused.
The sandwich and coffee she’d bought for dinner in the bank’s dining room remained untouched on her desk.
She’d need to act as soon as a call from any of them came in. She stared out the window of her office on the thirty-fourth floor. The lights of offices in the Chrysler Building blinked back at her. Then she realized that there was something useful she could accomplish while she waited for a phone call. She logged into the bank’s search program on SWIFT, the secure interbank financial exchange network, and began scanning the global funds transfer transactions for the last six months, looking for Russian rubles and Chinese renminbi funds transfers.
Another hour passed before her cell beeped. “William! Where the blazes have you been? I called you three hours ago.”
“Been on airplanes. What’s so damned important?”
“We have another serious issue, and for this one, timing is our biggest problem.”
She heard William’s sigh. “Rats. I smell Mother. Okay then. Betsy and I are ready to help. Tell me what has you so worked up.”
She explained the events of the last day. William was silent for a while when it ended. “Exactly what does Avram want us to do?”
Susan sat and looked at the notes on her tablet. “First, I’ll call and tell him I found you. Then I’ll ask him exactly that.”
William said nothing.
“Okay. Let me conference us with Avram.” She punched several buttons on the cell.
“Susan?” Avram’s voice seemed urgent yet it was but a whisper.
“What’s your status and how can Jon, William, Betsy, and I help? We’re all in Washington.”
* * *
Standing near the ticket counter, Jon waited. He could hear several voices in the background of the phone call. The one he recognized was Yigdal Ben-Levy’s. But it was a woman’s voice he heard next.
The voice was familiar but he couldn’t recall who it was. “Mr. Sommers, I’m Cassandra Sashakovich. We met briefly last year. We could use you, Jon, in New York as an advance party if that’s something you’re prepared to do.”
“But we’re all in Washington right now. The three of us are at the airport, near you.”
“Yes, true, but since William and Betsy are hackers, they’ll be working online, and anywhere they can access the Internet will do just fine for them. It’s you, Jon, we want operating in New York.”
“Doing what?”
Once again there was a tumult of voices babbling through the connection. Avram spoke. “We’ll be working our way to Manhattan. Not sure how. When we get there, we need you to scout the paths to UN Plaza. You have to tell us which path is safest.”
It was then Jon realized there was something missing. He stiffened. “What about a plan? You do have one, don’t you?”
Someone switched Avram’s phone to speaker and Ben-Levy spoke. “We are having a disagreement about the plan. Avram thinks we’d should rent several Cessnas and fly to MacArthur Airport at Islip, Long Island. I think we should go separately by train.”
Jon’s voice rose. “Either is insanity. You don’t know who, how many, what they have in weapons, or how they’ve found you in the first place. They’re tracking you, but you don’t know how. Both aircraft and trains are easily compromised, with all of you in a tiny space. If they have grenade launchers, a train is a death trap. If they have Stingers, an aircraft is an easy target.”
There was a ca
cophony at the other end of the phone. It settled after a few seconds and Avram’s voice was firm. “You are correct. What do you suggest?”
Jon took a deep breath and spoke in a calm voice. “Before we decide anything, we need William and Betsy to determine how the hunters communicate and where their base is. Then we can commit to a course of action. And if it involves travel, rent tour buses. They’re the least likely vehicle to be noticed by your hunters.” He turned and faced his two companions. “William, Betsy, can you two do your part?”
William seemed calm. “Yes. Give us an hour. We’ll call you back then, Avram.”
Jon’s eyes wandered to the briefcase he’d carried with him. The gun within was made of plastic and ceramic. He’d taken it through airport security and onto their flight from China without any problem. He was ready to go. But where to?
He sat again and scribbled notes on his cellphone. He’d seen Ben-Levy’s legendary Venn diagrams but they were more helpful in analysis than planning.
Jon opened the Microsoft Project app on his cell, crafted and compared a few alternative plans. Each was full of faults and assumptions. The one he preferred was the simplest. Occam’s Razor. He called Avram’s cell. “I’ve got your plan. It should be in your email inbox right now. Listen up.”
Avram said, “Yeah.” His voice sounded filled with doubt. “Your plans often fail.” Jon heard him sigh. “Okay. Since we have made no plan, we’ll all read yours.”
Jon scowled. “Here’s a summary of the one I want you to try on for size. The team in Washington should rent several tour buses or school buses, no more than one from any single company. Then, split your mercs into several groups, one detachment per bus, and split Ben-Levy and his friends into each of the buses. One of the buses not containing Ben-Levy will take Interstate 95 straight from Washington to Manhattan, never exceeding the speed limit. The bus with Ben-Levy will take secondary roads like coastal Route 1. The third bus leaves last and heads for Dulles Airport. I’m pretty sure the hostiles will divert most of their resources to that last bus. Got it so far?”
