The Russian

by Saul Herzog

  “1952,” the president said. “Consider it a peace offering.”

  They raised their glasses.

  “The generals were very impressed with your man’s performance,” the president said.

  “Impressed enough to understand why I stood by him?”

  The president made a shrugging gesture. “They don’t understand loyalty in the same way you spies do.”

  “You can say that again,” Roth said.

  The president nodded.

  “Well,” Roth said, “he seems to have come up with a lead. He sent a message last night.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Not much, but he requested surveillance on the Lubyanka building.”

  “So it’s still pointing to the Russian government?”

  “It is, sir.”

  “As we feared.”

  “As we feared, sir.”

  The president raised his cup to his mouth and drained it. He poured himself another.

  “Are there really men in Moscow who seek to pull us into a war?” he said.

  “It appears there are those willing to risk it,” Roth said.

  “And in Beijing?” the president said.

  Roth nodded. He finished his drink, and the president immediately refilled it.

  “I’ve ordered two Carrier Strike Groups into the South China Sea,” the president said. “Two to the Mediterranean. One to the Baltic Sea.”

  “That’s a substantial deployment, sir.”

  “I think it sends a message,” the president said.

  Roth nodded. “Of course,” he said, “we’ll need to do more than send messages.”

  The president topped up both their glasses. Roth could see he was preparing to say something difficult.

  He looked at Roth gravely, and Roth said, “If there’s something you want to tell me, sir.”

  The president cleared his throat. “The thing is, Levi.”

  “Just say it, sir.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not sure what more we can do than send messages in this case.”

  Roth had been about to take a sip of his drink. His hand froze just in front of his mouth.

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  “You heard me, Roth.”

  “But this attack, sir. This provocation.”

  “I can’t pull us into a World War, Roth.”

  “But we’re not talking about a World War, sir.”

  “I’m not willing to risk any kind of outbreak, Roth. Even if it’s localized.”

  “But we have two embassies in ashes, sir. I don’t see how there’s even a choice here.”

  “There’s always a choice, Roth.”

  “We were attacked, sir.”

  “We were only attacked if we choose to be,” the president said and took a big gulp of his port.

  “You’re still considering pinning this on my man?”

  The president said nothing.

  Roth put down his glass and got to his feet.

  “Sit down, Roth.”

  “Even after he risked his life to find out who was behind the attack?”

  “Let’s not be children about this, Roth.”

  “Children? With all due respect, sir, we were attacked,” Roth said, emphasizing the last word in the sentence.

  The president’s voice changed in tone. He didn’t like this any more than Roth did.

  “By Russia and China, Roth. You know what that would mean.”

  “It means what it means.”

  “It could mean the end of everything.”

  “We can respond proportionally,” Roth said. “We focus on their military capabilities. Their espionage infrastructure. Their satellite and cyber systems.”

  “It’s too risky, Roth. The Pentagon doesn’t like it.”

  “To hell with what the Pentagon likes.”

  “Russia and China at once, Roth? Think about that.”

  “I don’t need to think about it, sir. It’s already started.”

  “No, it hasn’t,” the president said. “Not as long as we have another person to pin this on.”

  “I can’t believe you’re still thinking of putting this all on Lance.”

  Roth was losing his temper. To let these attacks go unanswered would be the gravest tactical mistake in a generation. He knew the realities of geopolitics. He knew there were some risks that simply could not be hazarded, some costs that could not be paid.

  All-out war with Russia and China was probably one of those costs.

  But to completely deflect this? To blame it all on one rogue American when they knew someone in the Kremlin was involved?

  “When 9/11 happened,” the president said, “we knew that the only ones truly implicated were the Saudis.”

  “Please don’t give me a history lesson,” Roth said.

  “The Saudis, our biggest ally in the Middle East. A three-hundred-billion-dollar arms contract. The most powerful army in the region.”

  “I understand what happened, sir.”

  “Did we start a war with Saudi Arabia?”

  “Of course we didn’t.”

  “We went after Iraq. We went after Afghanistan. Wars we wanted to fight.”

  Roth had nothing to say to this. He made his way to the door.

  “We’re not in kindergarten here, Roth. This is the reality of the situation. This is the reality of the politics.”

  Roth shook his head.

  “We were attacked by Russia and China, sir. That’s the reality.”

  He slammed the door as he left.

  He was at the elevator when the president appeared in the hallway.

  Roth looked at him, standing there in his robe and slippers, slightly breathless from having hurried down the corridor.

  “Levi,” he said, “I’m telling you this as a friend. Do not let your asset go after whoever in the Kremlin he thinks did this. You call that hound to heel, Levi. You get him to stand down.”

  “Even if I wanted to,” Roth said, “I doubt I could.”

  “A simultaneous war with Russia and China could mean the end of the world,” the president said. “That’s what’s at stake here, Roth. You know that as well as I do.”

  74

  Lance spent the morning purchasing fresh clothing and toiletries while Larissa slept. He also picked up a new burner phone and laptop.

  He’d heard Larissa tossing and turning during the night and, more than once, weeping.

  Time would heal the wound, but it would leave a scar. There would be no forgetting what she’d done. She’d learn to live with it, but she’d never truly get over it.

  He found himself buying her fresh croissants, strawberries, pastries, anything he thought might give her some comfort.

  When he got back to the room, she was awake in the bed watching a soap opera.

  “Hey,” Lance said.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “How’d you sleep?” he said, knowing the answer.

  “Okay.”

  “The first night’s the worst.”

  She nodded.

  He knew the shoot-out the night before was all over the local news and was glad she’d found something else to watch.

  “I got breakfast,” he said. He went to the coffee machine and set it up. “We should eat now. Once I make contact with Washington, we’ll have to leave quickly.”

  Larissa spread the food on the bed while Lance finished making the coffee. Then they ate.

  At first, she picked at the food, but pretty quickly, her appetite took over.

  “I think it’s time we made a plan to get you out of the country,” Lance said while they ate.

  “I told you before,” she said, “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  “It will be safer if you go alone. You’ll be harder to find. I can show you how to adjust your appearance to slip through security.”

  “And what about papers?”

  “I’ll take care of that. Our best bet is to get you close to the border. Then the CIA can send s
omeone in to get you.”

  “Who would that be?”

  “It depends.”

  “I’m with you now.”

  “I’ve got something to do.”

  “I know what you’ve got to do. I’m the one who told you about it.”

  “Larissa.”

  She sighed. She wasn’t happy. “Would Tatyana come?”

  “That would be risky. They’re already looking for her.”

  Larissa nodded. “You want to get rid of me.”

  “Larissa.”

  “No, I understand. I’m a liability to you now.”

  “You’re not a liability.”

  “I’m the one who found out about this in the first place. I can still help.”

  “Things are about to get a whole lot more dangerous.”

  “More dangerous than what happened last night?”

  She had no idea.

  “If we manage to get to this albino,” Lance said, “the Kremlin will come down on us like a ton of bricks. They’ll search every hotel room, every railway carriage, every aircraft hold, and ship manifest.”

  “That never held you back before.”

  “Every time I do something like this,” he said, “I accept the fact there might be no way out after it goes down.”

  “So, what are you proposing?”

  “I’ll take you to the train station. We get you as far from here as possible. When you get to the border, you send a message to Laurel, and she sends someone to come smuggle you across.”

  “And what happens after?”

  “After?”

  “When the CIA has me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What use will they have for me then? What future will I have?”

  “I’m not going to abandon you, Larissa. I’ll make sure you get a fair deal.”

  “A fair deal?”

  “A new identity. Protection.”

  “Witness protection?”

  “Yes.”

  “Like in the movies.”

  “More or less.”

  “You want to send me out to the middle of nowhere? Some small town in America to work in a hardware store, or a gas station, spending my life looking over my shoulder, always waiting for the day they come for me?”

  “You’ll be safe, Larissa. You’ll be able to start a new life.”

  “What new life?” she said. “I’ll be a fugitive in my own skin.”

  “What did you think would happen?” Lance said. “How did you think this would all end?”

  Larissa shook her head. She was close to tears, and he didn’t want to push her. He didn’t want to upset her.

  He knew what it was that she wanted.

  She wanted a commitment, something from him. Something personal.

  And he couldn’t give it to her. Anything he said now would be a lie.

  “I wish I never heard those words,” she said. “That man in the club. The attack. The plot. I should have run a million miles.”

  “It’s too late for that now,” Lance said.

  She poured two cups of coffee and handed him one.

  They drank together, and when they were done, Lance said, “I’m going to go make the call. When I get back, be ready to leave.”

  She nodded.

  Lance left the hotel and walked to a nearby park. He found a bench and wiped off the snow before sitting down. He had techniques to mask the route of his call, but there was still a high chance it would be picked up.

  He opened the computer on his lap and looked around to make sure no one was taking an undue interest in him.

  Then he opened the connection.

  He waited while the route was secured, and then, all of a sudden, Roth’s face filled the screen of the laptop. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept.

  Roth saw the surprise on Lance’s face and said, “Not who you were expecting?”

  Lance cleared his throat. “I thought I’d get Laurel.”

  “I wanted to speak to you directly,” Roth said, “The entire Joint Chiefs saw what you did last night.”

  “I put on a good show, then?” Lance said. “The emperor is entertained?”

  “Come on, Lance.”

  “No, you come on, Roth. This isn’t a game we’re playing over here.”

  “I was just saying…”.

  “I know what you were saying.”

  “You know our hands are tied.”

  Lance let out a hollow laugh.

  “No one in the Pentagon believes for a second you were behind the bombings.”

  “I could care less what those bureaucrats think?”

  “You know as well as I do we can’t go after Russia and China on this. If war were to break out between three superpowers, no one’s walking away from that. That’s game over. That’s holocaust.”

  Lance shook his head.

  He was used to the constant maneuverings in Washington.

  The calculations.

  The politics.

  He was used to being told what to do by people who’d never left the comfort of their air-conditioned offices, who never set foot on the battlefield, who drank soy milk lattes and ate low-carb veggie wraps while other people risked their lives carrying out orders.

  He’d met generals who cared more about advancing their careers and getting their kids into private schools than they ever cared about the lives of the men under their command.

  He knew the details of federal pay scales occupied far more analyst attention than any war threat ever would.

  And it got to him. It got under his skin.

  “You know,” he said, “there was a time when if someone sucker-punched America, we punched back.”

  “That’s not your decision to make, Lance.”

  “How is this even up for debate?”

  “The president doesn’t want to take us into a war that could destroy us.”

  “We back down on this,” Lance said, “that’s it. We lose everything. Our position. Our leadership. Our fucking dignity.”

  “Since when did you care about dignity?”

  “Fuck you, Roth.”

  “Fuck me? Fuck me?”

  “Do you even give a shit about getting to the man behind this attack?”

  “You listen to me very carefully, Lance. This is coming from the very top. You’re ordered to stand down. Do you hear me?”

  “Stand down? I’m just getting stood up.”

  “Don’t go after these guys, Lance. The president will have your nuts on a platter.”

  “Someone’s got to do it.”

  “There’s a chain of command, Lance. There’s a system.”

  “Your system is going to let this guy get away with the biggest attack on America in a decade.”

  “Lance, if you go rogue on this, you risk unleashing the most devastating conflict in human history.”

  “No, Roth. That’s what you’re risking by letting them off the hook. What do you think will happen if we don’t hit back hard? That the Chinese and Russians will pack up their toys and go home? No. They’re going be all over us, everywhere. We need to nip this now before it grows seven heads.”

  “Lance, stand down. That’s a direct order.”

  “Our nation was built on stronger stuff than an order like that,” Lance said. “I’m going after this guy.”

  Lance disconnected.

  He couldn’t believe it. The president wanted to stand down. The powers in Washington preferred to blame this on one of their own men than actually go after those responsible.

  He made his way back to the hotel, dumping the laptop in a trash can on the way. He’d been about to ditch the phone when something told him to hold onto it.

  When he got back to the hotel, Larissa was gone.

  75

  Tatyana leaned back from the screen and rubbed her eyes.

  “You should take a break,” Laurel said.

  Tatyana sighed. “I know this place,” she said, looking at a live satellite feed of the plaza in fro
nt of the Lubyanka. “I’ve been to these places. I’ve worked with these people. I know them. I know how they think.”

  Laurel had just made a pot of coffee and put a cup on the desk in front of Tatyana.

  “Roth wants us to focus on the armored convoy movements,” Laurel said.

  They’d managed to track armored vehicles moving to and from the president’s country estate outside the city to a tunnel close to the Lubyanka. Judging from the convoy configuration, traffic closures, and air coverage, someone very important was being transported. From public records, they could tell it wasn’t the president himself.

  “Right now, the convoy is still at Novo-Ogaryovo,” Tatyana said. “I’m trying to get higher resolution imagery from its last arrival time, but air security over the facility is even tighter than the Kremlin.”

  Laurel nodded, and Tatyana pulled back up footage of the plaza.

  “What are you looking at?” Laurel said.

  “It’s something about the building,” Tatyana said. “These people coming and going. One of them knows something.”

  They heard the security door open, and Roth came into the room. He locked the door behind him and took a seat. He looked upset.

  “Everything okay, boss?” Laurel said.

  Roth sighed. “If I only had to fight Russians, my job would be a lot easier.”

  “What happened?”

  “The president ordered us to call off the operation.”

  “What?” Laurel said.

  Roth nodded. “I just got off the phone.”

  “I bet he wasn’t happy,” Laurel said.

  “He was not,” Roth said. “And neither am I.”

  “How can the president not want to get to the bottom of this?” Laurel said.

  Tatyana was still staring at the satellite feed. “Politicians can only ask questions when they know they’re going to like the answer,” she said.

  Roth nodded. “He can’t pursue this operation when the only logical outcome is that it will lead to war with Russia.”

  “And China,” Tatyana said.

  “And China,” Roth agreed. “And maybe he’s got a point. War on that scale hasn’t been seen in modern times.”

  “Fuck that,” Laurel said. “They hit us, we hit them. It’s in the Bible.”

  Roth chuckled. “We’ll have to keep it under the radar,” he said. “No new resource requisitions. Give back any assets we’re not using. I want it to look from the outside like we’re standing down the operation.”