by Alex Lukeman
Something dark.
Something evil.
Nick woke, gasping, drenched in sweat. He hadn't had the dream for a long time. Before, it had always ended when the grenade went off. This time it was different. He shuddered, remembering the feeling of fear as he was pulled toward the red glow.
Stress, he thought. Just stress. He bore the scars from the grenade on his body. He always would, but the scars on his mind were deeper.
He listened to Ronnie snoring and waited for dawn.
CHAPTER 47
Kiril Anasenko had been parked for more than two hours before a Mercedes emerged from the underground parking garage of her building. The American woman was driving. Valentina was in the passenger seat. He waited until they were a block away, then pulled out after them. They got onto I-66, headed for Virginia. Traffic was light. The assassin kept three or four car lengths behind them. They'd gone about ten miles before Selena turned. Anasenko saw signs for Dulles Airport.
He hoped they weren't going to the airport. That would complicate things. But they exited onto Dolly Madison Boulevard, then Chain Bridge Road. In a few moments they turned into a large shopping mall.
Selena entered a parking garage. Anasenko followed. Red and green lights indicated where parking spots were open. Anasenko drove past the spot Selena chose and found an opening eight cars down. He got out and followed the two women into the mall.
Anasenko was no stranger to malls, but he was unprepared for the assault on his senses as he entered. The mall was long and high, with two stories of shops and a roof highlighted with colored glass. The background noise was loud, constant, echoing around the enormous space. Insipid music blared from overhead speakers.
It was Saturday. The mall was packed with shoppers, but Anasenko was tall. He could keep an eye on his prey and remain unseen in the crowd roaming about.
Kerensky had instructed him to eliminate Antipova. He hadn't said anything about how to do it, leaving it up to the assassin's expertise. Anasenko had decided on a fast acting poison. He'd used the technique before. It was one of the old standbys of the KGB and now, the SVR.
He saw no reason to try and improve on a technique that had often been used with success. All it took was a simple touch from a sharp needle that released from a ring on his left hand. It was quiet, perfect for a crowded environment like this. The needle was tipped with a fast acting nerve agent that paralyzed the involuntary muscles. The subject simply stopped breathing. There was no antidote. Antipova would be dead within a minute. When she felt the prick of the needle she might know what had happened, but at that point it would be too late to do anything about it. He'd disappear in the crowd before anyone noticed that something was wrong.
He followed the women along the wide hallway, careful not to let Valentina see him, loitering when they went into a shop until they came out again. The mall was made for loitering, with chairs and benches everywhere. No one thought anything of another tired shopper sitting down for a moment.
It was too bad he had to kill her. He had fond memories of their affair together, back when they were both students studying the art of assassination in the special school outside of Moscow. She'd been one of the most enthusiastic and inventive lovers he'd ever had. Spending every day with death could do that. It either turned you on or off. Valentina had definitely been on.
Selena and Valentina came out of a clothing shop. Valentina carried a large shopping bag with a famous designer logo on it. She was smiling. The sisters were absorbed in the energy of shopping, unaware of Anasenko as he moved closer. He reached over with his right hand and touched the ring, releasing the poisoned needle. Valentina paused in front of a shop window. Selena kept walking.
Valentina was looking at a purse in the window when she saw Anasenko's reflection coming up behind her in the glass. As soon as she saw the familiar face, she knew why he was there. She spun and slammed the shopping bag into his head, then used a leg sweep to bring him down.
The attack took him by surprise. Anasenko swiped at her leg with the poison needle and missed. He rolled, reached under his jacket, pulled out his pistol and fired. The bullet missed and shattered the shop window behind her. He fired again. The round struck Valentina and knocked her down. People began screaming.
Selena was a few steps away, looking in a window. At the first shot, she turned and took in what was happening. Anasenko fired the second shot. Selena ran back and kicked the pistol out of his hand. Someone screamed. She aimed a kick at his head and missed.
Fast as a cat, he leapt to his feet. He held his left hand away from his body. She saw the gleam of the needle sticking out from his ring.
Selena's training in martial arts had taught her how to deal with many different instruments of death, old and new. She knew about poison rings. Weapons like that were as old as jewelry. One scratch of that ring meant death.
She would have to kill him. Adrenaline blasted through her body.
Anasenko came at her, fast. Selena entered the zone, the place where perception changed and everything slowed. He seemed to be moving underwater as she slipped out of the way of his attack. She struck the back of his neck as he went by. His legs went out from under him.
Anasenko went down hard on the floor. The needle pierced his skin. His back arched in a spasm of agony as the poison took hold. His last sight on earth was Valentina struggling to her hands and knees.
Failed. I failed...
For Anasenko, there were no more thoughts.
CHAPTER 48
Elizabeth's expression was grim.
"I know Orlov is ruthless, but this is too much. Coming after you in a crowded mall like that is unacceptable. He's not playing by the rules."
"What rules?" Selena asked.
"There are unwritten rules," Elizabeth said. "Rules that allow this dance we call the intelligence game to continue without starting a war between hostile agencies. It's clear Orlov doesn't give a damn about any of them."
"I could've told you that," Valentina said.
The bullet Anasenko fired had struck her in the fleshy part of her hip. It was painful and it had bled a lot, but it wasn't fatal or incapacitating. She'd walk with a limp for a while and have another scar, but that was it.
"There's not much we can do about it," Selena said.
"Not directly. But we can aggravate him. Perhaps cause him to lose a little sleep at night."
"How so?"
"Clarence and Lucas have come up with a plan to try and identify whoever it is over at Langley that's been providing the Russians with information."
"The mole."
"Yes. We're going to use him to confuse the Russians. In the process we'll discover who he is."
"What if it's a woman?"
"All of the suspects are men."
"What is the plan?" Valentina asked.
"Have you ever met a Russian general named Voronsky?"
"I know of a general by that name who runs the First Directorate of the GRU."
"That's him."
"I know the GRU is Russian military intelligence, but what's the First Directorate?" Selena asked.
"They are responsible for gathering intelligence in Europe," Valentina said.
"That's right," Elizabeth said. "Voronsky has an important job, overseeing all intelligence gathering in Europe. What do you think Orlov would do if he thought his general was feeding information to the West?"
"He would be very angry," Valentina said. "He would recall Voronsky to Moscow and have him interrogated."
"Is this man giving us information?" Selena asked.
"No," Elizabeth said. "As far as we know he's completely loyal. Voronsky will protest his innocence, but it's impossible to prove a negative. We'll take out one of Orlov's key assets and create a big problem for him."
"What do you mean, prove a negative?" Valentina asked.
"Prove that something didn't happen when it didn't."
"What does this have to do with catching the mole?" Selena asked.
/> "Clarence and Lucas have narrowed it down to four people who have the access needed to find out about operations like Croatia. Each of them has been fed information that a high level Russian asset is giving Langley critical information."
"So?" Valentina said.
"Each of them has been told a different codename for this unidentified asset. Langley's databanks have been salted with four files under four different codenames. Each file identifies the asset as General Voronsky. Whoever is betraying us over at Langley will want to know the name of the Russian informant. He'll access the file by the codename he's been given. When he does, we'll know who it is."
"Why wouldn't all of them want to know?" Selena asked.
"They might. But none of them have any need to know the identity of the source. Clarence thinks only the mole will try to find out who it is."
"Suppose he does. Then what happens?"
"The mole is a premier asset for SVR. All of SVR's important operatives on the East Coast are handled by Lavrov at the Russian Embassy."
"Yevgeny Lavrov?" Valentina asked.
"Yes."
"I know him. He is bureaucrat. He has a reputation for being ambitious."
"The mole will contact Lavrov to tell him about the supposed Russian source. Lavrov will be anxious to tell Moscow his mole has learned Voronsky is a traitor. It will make him look good. Clarence has 24/7 surveillance on each of the four people he suspects and full surveillance on Lavrov, both physical and electronic. The mole will make contact. He won't be dumb enough to relay what he thinks is important information over the phone. He could arrange to meet Lavrov, but I don't think he'll do that either. It's too dangerous. The most likely scenario is a drop."
"That is so old school," Selena said. "Why wouldn't he just transfer the information to a protected account in the cloud, or to an email account?"
"The mole is smart enough to know everything can be tracked. Clarence doesn't think he'll risk it. Even bin Laden and Al Qaeda gave up on electronics and resorted to couriers and written messages. The surveillance on these suspects is total. Any possible electronic transmission will be captured. They can't send anything that won't be intercepted, including from an anonymous computer. The same goes for throwaway phones. If the mole tries to communicate electronically, we've got him. If he's paranoid and smart, he'll record the information and leave it somewhere where it can be retrieved."
"What if he doesn't do that?" Valentina said. "I was trained in exchanging information directly in ways difficult to detect. I pass you on the street, there is a second of contact, I now have the information. No one sees."
"We know that. Our agents do the same thing. None of these suspects can pick his nose without one of Langley's people seeing it. The same goes for anyone Lavrov might send from the embassy. We're not going to intercept if the mole makes contact on the street."
"Why not?" Valentina asked.
"We want the information to get to Moscow. Once we're certain that's happened, we'll arrest the mole."
"Maybe this will not work."
"Don't be a pessimist. If it doesn't work, we'll think of something else."
"If you had lived in Russia, you would be pessimist too," Valentina said.
CHAPTER 49
Payne's castle was several miles from the nearest village, situated on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Irish Sea. Nick and Ronnie drove to within a quarter mile of the castle grounds and parked off the side of the road in a grove of trees. It had stopped raining. The night air was cold and unpleasant and the trees dripped water on them as they got out of the car. A full moon shone intermittently through scudding clouds. The night felt threatening. Nick couldn't shake off the feeling that something or someone was watching them.
Nick got the guns out of the case, MP7s and .40 caliber pistols. Ronnie had a small pack with the plasma cutter. They had C4 and an assortment of grenades, along with spare magazines for the guns. Both had learned long ago that you never had too much ammo.
They'd dressed in black boots and pants, with black jackets over armored vests. Black balaclavas pulled down over their faces left only eyes and mouth showing. They were almost invisible in the night.
The satellite photos had revealed a dangerous and seldom used walking path on the seaward side of the keep. It hugged the edge of the cliff and meandered past the ancient structure, continuing on for several miles. Several hundred feet below, the sea met the land in a turbulent stretch of black rocks and angry water.
There was no way up from below, no way down. From a defensive standpoint, the builders of the castle had chosen well. The rear of the keep was protected from any army. The only approach was from the front, through the outer walls and defenses.
Nick did a comm check. Everything relayed through the secure satellite over France. Back in Washington, Selena waited to monitor their communications.
"Selena, do you copy?"
Her answer came back after a short delay.
"Five by five, Nick. What's your status?"
"We're about a quarter mile out."
"Nick, there's unusual traffic at the objective. In the last hour a dozen vehicles arrived. Something's going on. It looks like security has been posted outside the compound. We spotted six men. They're all armed."
"Any guards in back of the keep?"
"Negative. The back is clear."
Nick and Ronnie looked at each other.
"All right. Thanks for the heads up. We're going in now."
"Copy."
"I'll leave the link open. Out."
He looked at Ronnie. "All set?"
Ronnie nodded.
They set off. Ten minutes later they came to the path that led behind the keep. Off to the left, the cliff fell away in darkness to the sound of the sea smashing against the rocks far below.
The ground underfoot was soft from rain. They came to a place where the edge of the cliff had crumbled away, moved around the gap, and picked up the path on the other side.
A thin mist rose from the ground, softening the outline of everything around them as they moved toward the keep. Sometimes the light of the moon showed the way, sometimes it was no more than a dim glow overhead. The path felt treacherous underfoot. It made for slow going.
The black shape of the keep loomed ahead. Nick felt his adrenaline kick in as they closed on the building. They reached the keep without seeing anyone and pressed up against the cold stones of the back wall.
So far, so good, Nick thought.
Nick looked up toward the top of the keep. The rear wall was five stories of stone, as strong and intact as it had been on the day it was finished. He searched for surveillance cameras but saw nothing. Payne had trusted the treacherous cliff edge behind the building to discourage any intruders. There was no way into the keep from back here, except for the postern gate. It was made of thick iron bars covered with rust. It was obvious that it hadn't been opened in centuries.
"It's going to take more than a little WD-40 to open this baby," Ronnie said.
He took out the plasma cutter, one of DARPA's latest gadgets. Commercial machines were bulky and got their power by plugging them in. This unit used a small, specialized battery developed from submarine applications to power the plasma circuit. The cutter looked a little like a hairdryer. It was good for about thirty minutes of continuous use.
Ronnie put on goggles with thick green lenses.
"I'll cut the corners away," he said. "It should go pretty quick."
Nick turned and looked out into the night at the unseen water. Intense white and violet light flared behind him as Ronnie turned on the cutter. It made a hissing sound as he cut through the old iron.
Ten minutes later, it was done. Ronnie shut down the cutter and set it on the ground.
"Give me a hand," he said.
They took hold of the bars and pulled. The gate came away with a scraping sound. They set it against the wall.
Nick pointed his flashlight through the opening. The beam revealed a narro
w passage of stone leading into the keep, big enough for one man to pass at a time.
Nick called Selena.
"We're about to go inside," he said. "All this stone might block transmission."
"Copy. Be careful, Nick."
"Always."
"After you, Kemo Sabe," Ronnie said.
CHAPTER 50
A narrow passage led away from the postern into the keep. The walls dripped with condensation. The floor felt slick underfoot. Nick hated confined spaces. He could feel the weight of countless tons of stone overhead pressing in on him.
The passage went straight for a short time, then sloped upward. They followed the incline until it leveled out again. It turned a right angle and continued on. Thick dust lay underfoot. There were no tracks but their own.
"Long time since anyone came this way," Ronnie said.
"Yeah."
The air was heavy and stale. It was like walking in a tomb.
"Gives me the creeps," Ronnie said.
"Yeah. Me too."
The passage came to a sudden end in a wall of gray stone.
"Uh, oh," Nick said.
"Shit."
"They must have sealed it off when the place was remodeled."
"Maybe. But this doesn't look new."
Ronnie was right, it didn't. The stone was the same kind of stone lining the passage and the floor. Nick played his light over the wall.
"Think about it," he said. "They wouldn't make that passage without a way to get into it from inside the castle."
"It looks like a solid wall."
"Hold the light on it."
He handed his flashlight to Ronnie, braced both hands against the stone, and pushed. Nothing happened.
"Give me a hand."
They both pushed against the wall. With a grating sound of stone against stone, the wall moved a few inches.
"It's a door," Nick said. "Something's blocking it on the other side."
They pushed against the slab. It moved until there was an opening wide enough to squeeze through. They slipped through the gap and found themselves in a room stacked with boxes and furniture. On the other side of the room, faint light shone through a narrow strip under a wooden door.
