The Last POW

by Howard Cohen

  “I look forward to our meeting.” He stepped back, allowing Anna to exit the office quickly. She ran from the building tears rolling down her face. Anna stopped a block away, wiped her eyes, kept on walking. What would Sonkin do if he found out she was KGB? Would he listen to her explain that it was a job at first? That she fell in love with him, loves him dearly would never do anything that would hurt him. She had never put anything they talked about on their walks in her reports. Maybe she should tell him. Make a tearful confession. She could not take the risk. I’ll meet with Lebedev. No matter how it goes, he will want to do it again, and again. Even if I just lay there.

  At dinner that night, Anna told Sonkin that she had a ladies group meeting at the library. He went to his den to work on his formulas. Anna drove to the address he has given her. It was a shoddy hotel in the low rent district. She parked a block away and walked to the hotel. She continued past the entrance, rounded the corner of the building looking for a side or back door. There was a side door which opened into the stairwell. She took the stairs to the third floor. The hallway was empty. Somewhere a TV played too loud. Room 308 was four doors from the stairwell. She walked quickly to the room and knocked. A few seconds later, Lebedev opened the door. He seemed surprised to see her.

  “Come in, Anna.” She stepped past him into the dingy room.

  “Couldn’t you have arranged better accommodations?” Anna said sarcastically.

  “We have to be discrete. Come sit.” He motioned toward the bed. She took off her coat, hanging it in the closet. “Sit.” He repeated patting the bed next to him.

  “Could I have a drink?”

  Lebedev stood and walked to the desk, poured vodka into two glasses and walked over to her. He handed the glass to her. Anna had planned it exactly this way. A glass in each hand, his mind on sex, his ability to respond significantly reduced. With her right hand, she reached into the pocket of her skirt, withdrew the four-inch razor-sharp knife and stabbed him in the neck at the angle of the jaw perforating his carotid artery. She had learned that many years ago in KGB training. He dropped the glasses, his hands going to the wound on his neck. Blood spurted out, covering the front of her dress. Lebedev was dead before he hit the floor.

  She put on a pair of old gloves and took his wallet, watch, ring, and cigarette lighter placing them, along with the knife, in a small paper bag she had brought with her. With a handkerchief, she opened the door to the closet to get her coat.

  Still wearing the gloves, she opened the door slowly and checked the hall. Empty. She took the stairs leaving by the same door she entered. No one noticed her as she went to her car and drove off.

  When she arrived home, Sonkin was still in his den. She quickly took off the blood-stained dress put it in a bag along with the knife, and Lebedev’s possessions which she would throw in the garbage incinerator tomorrow,

  He was a pig. He deserved to die. I love Vitaly more then I care about the Soviet Union. If he told me he wanted to defect tomorrow, I would go with him.

  Talk in the facility the next day was about the KGB man found killed by a prostitute in some dingy hotel downtown. Anna went about her work in the library. She had no regrets.

  19

  Znamenski, USSR

  1982 - 1988

  A month later they were about to sit down for dinner when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” Sonkin said.

  When he opened the door, he was shocked to see Boris standing there with a small bouquet.

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Boris said jokingly

  Sonkin stepped aside. Boris entered, handing the flowers to Sonkin, “These are for Anna.

  “Anna, Anna. Come see who’s here!” Sonkin almost shouted. Anna came in a pan in one hand, wooden spoon in the other. When she saw Boris, she smiled and gave him a long hug. “What a nice surprise. Just in time for dinner. What are you doing in Znamenska? Come into the kitchen.” Boris and Sonkin sat at the kitchen table. Anna stirred a pot of soup with one hand and added salt with the other. Sonkin poured chilled vodka for everyone.

  Boris said” Lebedev’s untimely death left this district open. Since I knew you very well, they decided to move me here. I will not be here long. Maybe a year, possibly two. Neither will you.” Anna stopped stirring, Sonkin stopped refilling their glasses, both looking at Boris.

  “They are building a new, large facility in Sarov. All research, development of avionics, defense systems, computer intergradation for all aircraft and missiles will be there. And you Vitaly Sonkin will be the director.”

  No one said anything for a while. “That is wonderful,” Anna said.

  “’Are you sure this will happen?” Sonkin asked.

  “It has been decided at the highest levels. I was authorized to tell you the good news.”

  They ate dinner. Boris filled them in on Sarov, which is another of Russia’s closed cities. Fences, minefields and guard posts protected the city from unwanted visitors. He showed them pictures of the future facility. Set in a park-like environment, four stories high, the size of a soccer field, all glass and brick. There was an adjacent airfield with two runways and three large hangers. The new Institute had a fence, guard towers, patrols, and ready reaction force.

  “No longer than two years. Yeltsin has made it a priority.”

  When Boris left, they hugged each other. “I knew that someday you would be recognized for your work. Tonight, you do not work in your den. Come to bed it’s been too long since we made love.”

  He needed no encouragement.

  20

  Znamenski USSR

  1982 - 1988

  Anna had her first meeting with Boris. He was in Lebedev’s old office. It made her feel very uncomfortable, but she did not allow it to show. Boris greeted her with a hug when she entered. She sat facing him across his desk as she had done so many times in the past.

  “Is there anything you have to report?” He asked. It was always his standard opening.

  “No. Vitaly is happy: we are happy. His work is brilliant. He is looking forward to the challenge of running a large institute and has the confidence that they will accomplish great things.”

  “Good. Tell me, did you get along well with Lebedev?” Boris asked casually.

  “Not as well as I get along with you. Why?”

  “Lebedev was not well-liked or well thought of in the organization. They indulged him because of his uncle. Still, he could not be allowed to get away with anything he wanted to do. You know that we monitor everything. The person in charge of this district noted that there were gaps in Lebedev’s tapes. More than expected from mechanical problems. They suspected that he was shutting the system down when he didn’t want Moscow to know what he was doing.” He stopped for a moment. Anna said nothing.

  “One night about two months ago, a KGB technician entered his office and installed a second system. It turns out Lebedev was fucking office workers. He brought them into the office, threatened them and had his way with them on that couch over there. He pointed to a leather couch against the far wall.

  Anna could feel her heart beating fast. She was sweating. The implications of what he was saying were not going to end well for her.

  “As you have already deduced you are on the tape. Lebedev’s demand that you meet him at a place later the night of the murder made you a prime suspect.” Anna started to say something, but Boris held up his hand, signaling her to remain silent.

  “Since I knew you better than anyone in the organization, they called me and asked what I thought. I told them they were wrong to consider you a suspect. You are a happily married woman and a dedicated agent. I suggested that you refused his offer and he then found a prostitute who did kill him for whatever reason. Headquarters accepted that explanation, and there will be no further investigation. Seems, his uncle was glad he would no longer be a problem.”

/>   “Thank you,” Anna said.

  “Go home. Enjoy your life.” Boris smiled.

  21

  Sarov Russia

  1988 - 2018

  Boris’ prediction that the Institute would be ready in two years was optimistic. It was four years before they received orders to move. Their new living quarters was a large four-bedroom house on the grounds of the Institute. Sonkin had a large office on the top floor of the building. For the first time, he had a secretary and several personal assistants, I.T. technicians, latest computers and an unlimited budget.

  Then on December 25, 1991 things changed. The Soviet Union unraveled. Russia was in turmoil as it looked for a new direction which was slow in coming. Budget cuts came swiftly. Projects were canceled. The KGB morphed into the FBS with little change in methods or personal.

  In late summer Boris died of a heart attack. There was a slashing rain the day of the funeral as Anna and Vitaly stood alone at the grave site letting the rain wash away their tears. Boris was their oldest and dearest friend. He had brought them together, protected them and saved Anna’s life. Sonkin said through his tears, “I should have let him win one game of chess.” They laughed.

  No one was assigned to take Boris place. They just asked Anna to report anything unusual.

  2001 elections resulted in bringing Vladimir Putin and his oligarchs to power. Putins desire for a strong military restored Sonkin’s budget. Over the next seventeen years Putin consolidated power and Russians threw off the remnant of communism. Seniors missed the security of communism while the younger generation embraced the new freedoms and economy.

  At the Institute the worlds most advanced aircraft and missiles were developed. Sonkin’s strides in using artificial intelligence in combat systems were going to revolutionize air combat. He perfected his Trojan horse, including it in the software of every system installed on aircraft or missile.

  Sonkin had deep regrets about the choices he had made. Over the years, with Anna’s help, he had learned to forgive himself for those choices. On their daily walks, Sonkin confessed he would like to go home. Defect. Anna was sympathetic to his needs. She would never report him,

  But she also knew that it was impossible as the FBS held their passports. Although he had served Russia for over forty years, they still did not trust him. Putin’s paranoia permeated all levels of the bureaucracy. No matter how he hated the system, he would never risk any harm to Anna. While Sonkin worked on his artificial intelligence projects, Anna was in charge of collating all studies, research, intelligence, even rumors, that had value in his plans. They were soulmates in the ideal sense.

  22

  Sarov Russia

  2018

  Sonkin and Anna were bundled up against the cold as they walked arm and arm along the main avenue.

  “There is something I want to discuss with you,” Sonkin said.

  ” It will have to wait.” Anna said abruptly. “I saw the doctor two weeks ago for a routine checkup. He found something and ordered a series of tests and scans. Last week he did a biopsy. I have ovarian cancer stage four.”

  Sonkin stopped and hugged Anna. He felt nauseated, feared he would wretch. “When does the treatment start?” He whispered still holding her tightly.

  “Next week I’ll have surgery, then chemotherapy.” She felt his tears on her cheek. “Don’t worry my dear. There’s a good chance they can get it under control.”

  23

  Sarov Russia

  2018

  Five months later he sat at her bedside in Serov hospice holding her hand. Soon she would pass from his life. He feared the void her passing would leave. Vitaly Sonkin could not imagine life without his Anna. She could hardly find the energy to talk.

  “I have a confession to make,” she said with an effort. “Something I never told you. Do you remember the first day I arrived at your door? I said Mr. Popov sent me.” Anna took a deep breath, almost too weak to speak.

  “You don’t have to say it.” Sonkin said.” I knew you were KGB or at least suspected it. It didn’t matter. I fell in love with you quite quickly. I made sure never to put you in a position to make a difficult choice.”

  “I chose you, Robert.” Anna was quiet for a while, and then her hand went cold. Vitaly Sonkin decided to be Robert Miller again. They no longer had a hostage.

  24

  Moscow, Russia

  2019

  Sonkin was the main speaker at the meeting. He presented part of his work on incorporating artificial intelligence into integrated attack systems. In the evening there was a reception at the hotel. Sonkin made the rounds talking with other attendees, many of them his former students.

  Olaf Nicolson, a brilliant Norwegian mathematician, was on the balcony puffing away in the smoking allowed section. Last year Sonkin had collaborated with him on algorithmic variations having to do with artificial intelligence.

  “Still have that nasty habit Olaf” Sonkin chided.

  “Yes, I can’t seem to quit. I don’t want to. I enjoy it too much.” Olaf said in excellent Russian.

  “Olaf I’m going to say something to you once. Do not repeat it or ask me any questions. Just do what I ask. Can you do that?” Sorkin said softly.

  “Yes, Vitaly, I will.”

  “Go to the American embassy in Oslo. Tell them I want to defect. I live in the city of Sarov. My travel is minimal and never without an escort. I cannot come to them; they will have to get me out. Thank you, Olaf.” He walked off without a backward look.

  25

  Oslo Norway,

  2019

  William Burman was CIA station chief for Norway, Sweden and Finland. When Olaf Nicholson came to the embassy to ask who handled defectors, he refused to divulge the name of the person or where he or she was from until he spoke with the person in charge. Nicholson specifically asked for the local head of the CIA. After they ran a background check on Nicholson establishing him as one of Norway’s top academics Burman agreed to see him.

  Burman was a fit forty-two, blond hair cut short, blue eyes, pale skin, thin lips and a ready smile. He rose, and the men shook hands.

  “Please sit Mr. Nicholson. You told my people that you wanted to report a possible defector. Is that correct?” Burman’s Norwegian was excellent.

  “Yes, that is correct. This man is a very, very high-value individual, and I could not give his name to someone who was not at the top of the chain. Are you that man?”

  “Yes, I am… Really.” He added when he saw some doubt in Nicholson’s eyes.

  “The man who wants to defect is Vitaly Sonkin. Have you heard his name?”

  “No. I have not.” Burman answered honestly.

  “He is the head of the military research and development institute. His people have probably designed everything that flies in the Russian Federation. Combat aircraft, missiles, computers and now artificial intelligence. Sonkin is one of the most valuable men in the country. He is a genius.”

  “Why does he want to defect?”

  “I have no idea. Sonkin approached me at a scientific meeting and told me to come here and tell you. He said he lives in the city of Sarov. It’s a closed city east of Moscow. Sonkin sometimes comes to Moscow but always with a close escort. He is not allowed outside the country. If the Russians get a hint that he wants to defect, it will not go well for him. No matter how important he is. Putin does not forgive.” Nicholson stood. “Forget I was here. There is nothing more I have to add.”

  “Thank you.” They shook hands again.

  When he was alone, Burman googled Sonkin. Though there was not a great deal of personal information, it did verify much of what Nicholson had said. Sonkin’s defection would be a huge coup.

  He called Langley on the secure phone, briefing them on his conversation with Nicholson.

  26

  Georgetown, Washington DC

>   2019

  Two men sat in a booth at Mia’s Cafe in Georgetown drinking coffee. Robert Malone was a former CIA station chief in Russia. Paul Sloan was director of Russian affairs at Langley.

  “Tell me about Sarov,” Sloan said, sipping his coffee.

  “It’s one of ten closed cities in Russia. Very hard to get into without the proper credentials. You cannot counterfeit the credentials. I know, we tried. “Malone said, signaling the waitress to refill his coffee. She refilled both their cups, asked if they wanted anything else and left.

  “Any chance to infiltrate?”

  “None. Fences, mines, patrols, sensors, the works. If you’re thinking about trying to get an agent into Sarov, think again. About twenty years ago, we tried. It was a disaster. KGB caught the agent, tortured him until he gave up all our assets in the Soviet Union. Finally, we traded two of their agents we had captured for him.”

  “I think we are going to farm this one out,” Sloan said as he added more sweetener to his coffee and took a sip. “Thanks for meeting me here. The agency didn’t even want this one discussed in house. One hundred per cent deniability.”

  Part 3

  The Plan

  March 2019

  27

  Sarov, Russia

  March 2019

  Jax sat silently listening to Sonkin describe the story of his last forty seven years.

  “Now you know my story. Every detail. In short, I am a traitor. My wife died three years ago. I hated the communist system, and Putin’s Russia is not any better. I want to go home. “Sonkin said pouring himself another cup of tea. He offered some to Jax who declined.

  “You could be tried as a traitor. Someone will make a case for desertion.”

  “I don’t think so. I am all those things, and it took me years to stop hating myself for the coward I was. I have forgiven myself for that. But I know so much about what the Russians are doing that I will be a great asset. And I have something that could destroy the Russian air force and missile system.”