At USNet’s new Russian headquarters, preparations were in their final stages for the upcoming visit. Peter Goncharov stood in the middle of the upstairs meeting room, surveying the final checklist with his assistant. Knox was downstairs, greeting their early guests.
As their security head walked by, Peter again asked him to check on whether anyone at the hotel had seen David Sawyer since he left Mr. Knox’s room that morning. The man stopped and talked on his special phone. Peter noticed that the answer took some time and that the man nodded several times. When he hung up, he turned back to Peter.
“They say that no one can be sure, but they think he got into a Mercedes shortly after Mr. Knox last saw him. If it was him, the bellman cannot remember anything about his destination. The interesting news is that the airline confirms that Sawyer called early this morning and made a reservation to fly today, but then called back a few hours later and cancelled. So they have no further idea.”
“That’s really strange. Thank you. Please let me know if you hear anything.”
Peter finished with his assistant, glanced again at the large photos of their early operation, and decided that it all looked pretty good. He went downstairs, and, after politely waiting for a break in the conversation which Knox was having with a large Russian businessman—through an interpreter—Goncharov said, “Mr. Knox, there’s still no word on David, or why he’s not here.”
Knox looked disturbed. “What could have happened to him?”
“I don’t know.” Then he recounted the airline information.
“Home today? That doesn’t make any sense. We just arranged for him to fly home with us tonight. We talked about his role at the reception, and I asked him to join us in the receiving line. He left us quite happy. You saw him at breakfast. Did he seem like he was about to go home and miss this event?”
“No. You’re absolutely right. It’s very strange.”
“Maybe you should contact the police.”
“Yes, if he’s not here by the end of the reception, we’ll call the police.”
“Good. I don’t want anything to happen to him.”
“I’m sure that nothing will.”
David noticed that Mustafin stayed online with the two men at the other control center after their five o’clock check-in. Mustafin said, “We will launch close to six. That will put the missile in the Moscow area about seven, still with thirty minutes of loiter time, if we need it. Have them begin their final launch preparation.”
During his ordeal, David had occasionally stretched. He did so again, this time stretching back and then forward, all the way, so that his head was on his knees. Mustafin was engrossed in his video conversation, and David used the moment to look under the seat. There, clamped to the outboard frame of the seat, was a thick clear plastic pouch containing a life vest, small first-aid kit, and a flashlight. He recognized the flashlight’s design: it was made of a strong anodized metal and took three “D” batteries.
David sat up again and noticed that on the USNet news a reporter was interviewing Trevor Knox in the foyer of their new Moscow office building. It seemed so incongruous.
The flashlight. Could he get to it and somehow use it as a weapon? A club? Could he reach down to get the pouch with his right hand alone, without Mustafin noticing?
Elizabeth was in the hospital room that morning watching the USNet news magazine when Rob came out of a sedated sleep. “They say they’re going to cover the President’s speech at USNet headquarters live, and a minute ago they interviewed Mr. Knox. But we haven’t seen your father yet. Right now they’re doing a background piece on the Russian President.”
Eight hundred kilometers southeast of Moscow, in a small deserted valley northeast of Rostov-on-Don, Lieutenant Andryushin’s team ramped the launch rails above the cab so that the missile could fly free. Then they backed away. Andryushin signaled a thumb’s up to Captain Rusnak, who was standing beside his car, fifty meters away.
Trevor Knox and Peter Goncharov waited in the ground level of their new headquarters. Most of the invited guests—from all over the world—had gathered and were upstairs in the large hall, looking at USNet information and sipping champagne. The room was decorated in the red, white and blue colors of both nations’ flags, and there were several banners showing the two flags together, with “Friendship” in English and Russian written underneath.
As they stood together near the open front doors, Peter said, “I still can’t imagine where David is. He’s just disappeared. I know how much he was looking forward to this event.”
“I hope he’s all right,” Knox replied. “A good man.”
“Yes. Very much.”
An SUV drove into the compound, and Tanya Prescott emerged from the passenger seat. “Two minutes, max,” she said, as she greeted the two men. “They’re having a great day. Hey, where’s David?”
“We’re not sure,” Knox replied. “We haven’t seen him since just after breakfast. We’re beginning to be a little worried.”
“Really? Not good. Let me know if he doesn’t turn up, and we’ll help in the look-see. Well, here they come…”
The approaching sirens grew louder, and the caravan turned into the compound, led by several black SUV’s with blue flashing lights. They peeled off to the perimeter, and a single long limousine with flags flying in front pulled up to the doors of the USNet headquarters. Secret Service agents opened the front doors, looked all around, then opened the side doors, and President Harper and President Temirov emerged. The Russian President was not as tall as his American counterpart. They smiled at Knox, whom they had met at lunch, and walked over to their hosts.
“President Temirov, President Harper, allow me to introduce Mr. Peter Goncharov, who has been our Russian operations manager for five years. He’s the reason for our success and longevity in Russia.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” President Harper said, extending her hand to the Russian.
President Temirov, his dark eyes beaming, also shook hands with Goncharov, and they spoke in Russian.
After exchanging pleasantries and pausing for a “photo op” at the doorway, the foursome entered and walked up the staircase, engrossed in a discussion about USNet’s history in Russia, while the press from the motorcade filed in behind them.
When Mustafin switched screens to the Moscow regional map, David could see the red blip, corresponding to ID code 654321 dialed into the digit box, slowly pulsing at the location of their headquarters building.
If I get the plastic pouch loose, will I be able to open it with one hand? And if I get the flashlight out, can I hit him with it in a way that will stop him before he shoots me? I’ve never done anything like that. Lord, I know this sounds trite, coming from me now, but I really am asking for your help. For my family. And for the President.
It was about 5:45 pm in Moscow, and early morning in the U.S., as the USNet News cameras showed the two Presidents making their way around the perimeter of the large room, shaking hands as they went. The phone on the hospital table next to Elizabeth rang.
“Hello.”
“Mom?”
“Callie! My goodness, it’s early out in California. How are you?”
“Great!”
“I’m glad. Are you watching the TV coverage of the USNet reception in Moscow?”
“Not yet. I’m in my car.”
“I haven’t seen your father, but I assume that we will.”
“Mom, that’s why I’m calling. If you don’t see him, don’t, like, worry. It means he’s on the way home.”
“Great.”
“Yes. And Kristen and I will be at the airport in ten minutes—we should be home this afternoon. Kristen has her car at the airport. We’ll drive home, or to the hospital. How’s Rob?”
Elizabeth was watching the Presidents mount the small stage in Moscow.
“He’s better. His pelvis is broken, but there don’t seem to be other internal injuries. He may come home today, too, on crutches. Did you say Dad
is on the way home now? Missing the reception?”
“He was going to try to change his ticket and leave Moscow today, but it would have been too early to call and let us know. If he’s on the flight, he’ll call from New York. And if he missed that one, he’s going to try to get a flight to, like, Western Europe. So I think we’ll all be home today or tomorrow.”
“Callie, this is great news. I love you and can’t wait to see you.”
“I love you, too, Mom.”
Mustafin glanced at the news coverage that showed Trevor Knox approaching the microphone at the podium. He spoke into his headset to the Russian at the other end of the video call. “All right, General, you have permission to launch.”
“Understood. We’ll send the confirming signal.”
Mustafin swiveled around and smiled at David. “What history we’re about to make! Not only will we get rid of the self-righteous U.S. President, but we’ll create incredible opportunities to move our people inside the Russian government, as they are forced to rebuild. You have a front row seat for history in the making. Too bad you won’t be able to share the experience with anyone.” He smiled, turned back to his console, and opened up the range on the map display to show most of Eastern Europe north of the Black Sea.
Yusef had hardly slept, even with a pill. His last night on earth. He had been up for hours, showered, said his prayers, read the Qur’an, and now, dressed in only a T-shirt and shorts, he was heading out the door for the mini-storage unit near the airport, driving the rented van. Given the holiday, the traffic would be light, and he expected to make good time. He noticed what a beautiful day Allah had made, and smiled.
Knox stood at the microphone behind the Presidential podium while the applause died down and the USNet cameras broadcast to the world. Behind him in chairs were Presidents Harper and Temirov, the U.S. Secretary of State, Sandra Van Huyck, and several other dignitaries.
“We are delighted to be here today to celebrate our American Fourth of July in a way that no one could have imagined only a few years ago. We at USNet are particularly honored to have with us both President Temirov and President Harper, signifying the bond between our two nations, which has grown closer at all levels as we have learned to work together: in government, in cultural exchanges, and in business.
“As one of the oldest still functioning—and might I say thriving—joint ventures in Russia, we are honored and humbled to have been selected as the site for our leaders’ remarks on the future of business between our two nations.
“On this historic anniversary of our nation’s founding, I, particularly as an immigrant, am reminded of our country’s underlying principles. The foundations for all business discourse have always been civility, law, ethics and accountability. We at USNet have practiced these principles since our earliest days, and we are pleased to endorse the efforts of both governments to restore morality in the workplace. As you have previously heard, we support President Harper’s recently enacted Media and Entertainment Reform Law, and we encourage President Temirov to adopt similar legislation here in Russia.
“Beyond these foundations, we pledge that our company will assist both governments and other companies in making recommendations so that ethical business can more easily be transacted between our two great nations.
“But I know that you did not come here today to hear me, so I will be brief. Before introducing these two great leaders of vision, I do want to take the opportunity to give each of them a small token of our appreciation and a recognition of this special day.”
Knox held up a small badge, and the camera focused in for a close-up. “We have for each of them a specially cast friendship pin, showing both the U.S. and Russian flags, with the word ‘friendship’ in both languages beneath them. Before they speak, I want to pin this special day’s memory piece on each lapel.”
Applause erupted in the hall, and Knox turned. The two Presidents stood up, smiling, and Knox approached President Temirov first. He pinned the flags on his lapel, they shook hands, and President Temirov said “Thank you” in English.
Then Knox moved to President Harper. As the applause continued, Knox reached up for the lapel of her suit and said to the President, “Thank you for coming. As you probably know, pins like this are a special tradition for Russians. We hope that you’ll keep this one on for the rest of the day, particularly at the Fourth of July celebration tonight.”
“Thank you, Trevor, for all that you’ve done. And, yes, I’ll keep it on. A great idea.”
“Thank you, Madame President.”
Knox turned back to the podium, the guests were seated, and he said, “Now I’d like to ask our Russian operations manager, Peter Goncharov, to introduce President Temirov.”
Captain Rusnak surveyed his men in the relative safety of a small ravine one hundred meters from the launcher. He could see the expectation on their faces. He glanced down at the mobile firing board and noted the eight green lights. He pushed the Fire button.
There was a thunderous roar as the booster rocket kicked in and the turbojet-powered GoFor cruise missile was propelled up its short track to flying speed. Almost before they could blink, the deadly missile was on its way north.
The men shouted and slapped each other on the back. As they did so, the missile received its initial guidance information from the command center at NovySvet, correcting its path slightly to head straight for Moscow.
Mustafin reacted to the news from General Beleborodov by raising his right fist in the air. “Great! Yes, yes, I see it.”
David leaned to the right so that he could see around Mustafin, and he noticed a white light on the map of Europe. This one was moving rapidly to the north. And he noticed red light to the northwest, which looked to be in Moscow, with a number next to it.
That flag pin Knox just pinned on President Harper must contain the micro-repeater for the GPS system. Code 654321.
Salim’s other student, Perviz, used his next remaining phone to call his mentor with the pre-arranged message that he was up and moving toward their storage site near Kennedy Airport on Long Island. The weather in New York was mid-level overcast, but Perviz knew from his training that there should be plenty of time to lock onto a climbing jet before it entered the clouds.
President Temirov was at the podium, his remarks simultaneously translated for USNet viewers. He was praising the American business community for remaining in his country despite sometimes difficult conditions, and for teaching their Russian counterparts. He challenged both the Western and Russian business leaders assembled for the reception to move out beyond the country’s largest cities and to bring the benefits of free enterprise to all of the regions.
From his seat David watched as President Harper began her remarks on the USNet News feed, while the pulsing white light moved rapidly north on Mustafin’s console.
He could hear the President’s encouraging words on trade and business development, new program initiatives, and praise for USNet’s leader, Trevor Knox, as an example for all to follow.
He’s going to kill you! He thought again about the flashlight, and again he stretched and looked beneath the seat. Mustafin did not seem to notice. I think I can reach the pouch. Surely it’s designed to come off easily. But when should I do it? Mustafin’s got to be involved in something intense. Start to finish I’ll only have a few seconds, and I’ll have to be quiet.
He could feel adrenaline starting to pump through his system. Once again he looked at the distance from his seat to Mustafin, trying to gauge whether, with his left hand cuffed to the armrest, he could stand, step, swing, and hit the man’s head. It would be close. A few inches.
If I miss, he’ll kill me. But if I don’t try, he’ll kill me anyway. I’d better swing low, in case he ducks or pulls back. That way I’ll at least hit something. His mind knew that he had to try it, but his heart pumped faster and his stomach was in turmoil.
A few minutes later the President finished her speech, and a short question and answer sessi
on began on the USNet News feed. Mustafin said, almost to himself, as he watched the screen, “Hurry up. We need you back in the Kremlin before seven.”
They’re going to take out the Presidents, the Kremlin, the entire Russian leadership—plus our Secretary of State and several senators!
David couldn’t focus on the questions being asked. He kept thinking about his uncertain plan. This will never work. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m a dead man either way. Lord, I…
At about 6:15 the questions ended, and Knox looked at his watch. As they stood on the podium, he said privately to President Harper, “Thank you again for coming. I know that you and President Temirov have a state dinner at the Kremlin, so we’ll try to get you out of here quickly.”
“No problem. Thanks for hosting us and for agreeing to back our reforms. I know they’ll be good for the country, and I appreciate your support. And thanks for the flags!” She touched the pin on her lapel.
“Our pleasure. Have a Happy Fourth of July celebration.”
“You’re not coming?”
“No, we have to head back for meetings tomorrow. But all of our people are attending. I’m sure it will be great.”
“Yes. Fourth of July fireworks in Moscow. Who would have thought!”
Knox led the way over to the wide door opening into the software assembly area. With smiles and a flourish for the cameras, the Presidents, Knox, and Goncharov cut the ribbon across the doorway. After general applause, Knox turned and led the two leaders around the perimeter of the room. They stopped to shake hands several times with other guests, and Knox continued to check his watch. Finally, just before 6:30, he put his two guests in their special limousine and waved good-bye as they drove off.
Enemy In the Room Page 39
