Selected: A Thriller

by J. Allen Wolfrum

  Susan nodded. “I agree.”

  Arianna Redmond briefly looked around the room. “I have an agent I can put on the case. She will report directly to me. Give us a few weeks to work the case. In the meantime, act as normal as possible around your chief of staff. I’ll be in touch when we have more information to share.”

  Susan exhaled and felt a weight come off her shoulders. “Thank you.”

  Arianna Redmond put her hands on the desk. “Madam President, anything else I can help you with today?”

  Susan stood up and shook her hand. “No, Director Redmond. I’ll let you get back to work.” Susan turned and walked out the door.

  Arianna Redmond opened the blinds and watched Susan walk down the hallway with her Secret Service detail. Arianna walked back to her desk, picked up the phone, and dialed the chief of the FBI National Security Branch, Brian Connolly.

  Brian Connolly answered, “Director Redmond, this is Section Chief Connolly, how can I help you?”

  Arianna replied, “I’ve got an assignment from the White House and I need an agent for two weeks.”

  “Okay… we’re short staffed, do you have someone in mind?”

  “Yes, Agent Sanders. She’s new, started a month ago. She’s still green, shouldn’t hurt you too much to lose her.”

  “Well, I guess if you have to take someone, it might as well be a newbie.”

  “Thanks Brian, I owe you one.”

  “More than one. I’ll send her up to your office ASAP.”

  Brian Connolly walked out of his office into the bullpen and shouted, “Agent Sanders… report to Director Redmond’s office immediately.”

  Rebecca Sanders stood up from her cubicle and responded, “Yes, sir.” She stood frozen for a moment. The entire office stared at her.

  Brian Connolly shouted again, “Well… don’t just stand there. Get upstairs. And remember… you’re representing the National Security Branch. If you embarrass me, don’t bother coming back.”

  Agent Sanders walked up to Director Redmond’s open door and knocked to gain her attention. Director Redmond looked up and Agent Sanders announced herself. “Ma’am… National Security Branch Chief Brian Connolly ordered me to report to your office.”

  Director Redmond smiled. “Come on in. And close the door.”

  Agent Sanders closed the door and sat down in the chair across the desk from Director Redmond.

  Arianna Redmond smiled. “How’s the first month been? I had lunch with your parents last weekend. They couldn’t be happier. You know, getting through the academy is the easy part. Keeping your integrity on the job is the true test of a career FBI agent.”

  Rebecca Sanders shrugged and sighed. “I know. I’ve heard it from my parents a million times. ‘Your career at the agency is the most important thing.’ But yeah, things are good so far. I’m doing the normal new agent stuff, follow-up phone calls, taking notes and writing reports.”

  Arianna Redmond replied, “Sorry for the lecture. I couldn’t help myself. It’s good to see you on the job. Did you see the paper today?”

  “Are you talking about the article claiming President Turner is hotheaded, short-tempered, argumentative, and a booze hound?”

  Arianna Redmond nodded. “I would use a more neutral tone… but yes, that’s the article.”

  Rebecca Sanders shrugged her shoulders. “Yes… I read it. Why?”

  “Because President Turner came in my office this morning and she’s under the impression that her chief of staff is the source of the leak. You’re going to find out if her suspicion is true.”

  Rebecca Sanders squirmed in her chair. “Okay… but I don’t see why the FBI is involved.”

  Arianna Redmond leaned forward. “Let me be clear. I don’t care about the president’s reputation. But I am concerned that someone with access to classified information is willing to leak it to the press. And if they’re leaking it to the press, there is a very real possibility they’re also leaking classified information to foreign governments. We need to find the source of the leak.”

  Rebecca Sanders nodded. “Do we have any leads other than the chief of staff?”

  “No. Start with the chief of staff. Focus on his activity outside the White House. I want a daily update. Any questions?”

  Rebecca Sanders nodded. “Yeah, I have lots of questions.”

  Arianna Redmond stood up, smiled, and motioned toward the door. “Good. Get out there and find the answers.”

  26

  Gazprom, Inc., is a public corporation responsible for all drilling, refining, storage, and exportation of oil and natural gas in the Soviet Union. The corporation is technically a publicly traded corporation on stock exchanges worldwide, but the Soviet government is still the largest shareholder and all board members are current or former high-ranking Soviet government officials.

  President Rosinski attended the monthly Gazprom board of directors meeting at their Moscow headquarters, just a few blocks from the Kremlin. He took his seat at the head of the conference room table for the board of directors meeting. President Rosinski remained silent during roll call; his presence and remarks were explicitly excluded from the official records. The official Gazprom CEO, Ivan Ritkov, seated to Boris Rosinski’s right, started the meeting with a company status update.

  “Gentlemen, thank you for taking the time to attend our monthly board of directors meeting. The first two issues are related to our continuing troubles in the Crimea region of the Ukraine. The civil unrest in the Ukraine has prompted the Ukrainian president to cancel all Gazprom contracts in the Ukraine. A US-based company will take over our work; we have three months to complete the transition.”

  President Rosinski looked around the room to judge the reaction from the board members. The room remained silent; the board members kept blank expressions on their faces as if they were at a poker table.

  President Rosinski broke the silence with a question. “Mr. Ritkov, you mentioned that there were two items related to the Ukraine? What is the second?”

  “Yes. I regret to inform you that five Gazprom employees were killed yesterday while working in the Chernihiv natural gas fields. They were ambushed leaving the job site.”

  Boris Rosinski paused before responding, “It’s a tragedy anytime we lose a fellow Soviet. Please be sure to compensate their families and extend to them a job offer at Gazprom if possible.” Boris Rosinski paused before moving onto the next topic.

  “How long before the American company takes over?”

  Ivan Ritkov replied, “Their work officially starts in three months. We are expected to transfer what knowledge we have to their management team prior to the transition.”

  The silence between questions made the men in the room fidget in their chairs. President Rosinski paused before responding, “We will not be transitioning to the Americans. Our employees will continue working in the Ukraine under our current contract structure until further notice.”

  Ivan Ritkov couldn’t hide his surprise. “Should I inform the Ukrainian government?”

  “No. Their operations won’t be interrupted. By the time of the transition, the Ukrainian people will have voted to annex the Crimea region to the Soviet Union. Once we own the source of their oil and natural gas, we can negotiate favorable terms to build pipelines north toward Belarus and Latvia. From Latvia we can ship directly to Europe. This will triple our oil and natural gas sales to Europe.”

  “Is there planning that needs to be done prior to the annexation vote?” asked Mr. Ritkov.

  “Don’t do anything that can be detected by our foreign investors or the public. Assemble a small team of your best engineers and architects to work on the plans for the pipeline. The project is to be kept off the official records. KGB Director Tremonov will be in touch with specific details.”

  President Rosinski scanned the room. “If there are no questions, Mr. Ritkov, please continue the meeting.”

  President Rosinski stood up from his chair at the head of the conference roo
m table and walked out the door.

  Later that afternoon, President Rosinski called KGB Director Tremonov into his office. He sat down in the chair across from President Rosinski’s desk and opened his black notebook.

  “Nikolai, what are the latest poll numbers on the Crimea annexation vote?”

  “The Ukrainian people are slowly coming around. Our cyber warfare team has made a twenty-percentage-point swing in the polls.” Director Tremonov flipped to the front of his notebook for the details. “The polls are predicting a no vote… but our cyber warfare team’s model is predicting a yes vote. The cyber warfare group believes there is an underlying favor toward joining the Soviet Union that isn’t reflected in the current polls.”

  Boris Rosinski nodded his head. “Keep me updated. What about the American pilots?”

  “Our agents contacted Alexander Umirov, the leader of the Chechen rebel group holding the pilots. Our expectations were explained to him in detail. When our agents showed him pictures of his family at their homes, he understood the importance of following our instructions. We told him to stop moving the pilots, and no more videos or torture unless explicitly told to do so by our team. But he refused to release the pilots.”

  “Why did he not agree to release the pilots?”

  “I don’t know, he’s a Chechen.” Director Tremonov paused while President Rosinski nodded his head and looked off to the corner of the office.

  Director Tremonov broke the silence. “I have an update from the cyber warfare group on the American public. The extreme anti-Soviet groups are gaining support and pushing for military intervention against us. The various factions in America pushing for military intervention are uniting under the name of the Euro-Skeptics.”

  President Rosinski cracked a smile. “An anti-Soviet group calling themselves Euro-Skeptics. Only in America.” He paused to gain his composure. “Do we have insight into the American president’s reaction?”

  “Nothing outside of her psychological profile. She’s weak; all she will do is make threats.”

  President Rosinski interrupted, “We need them to back down. We can’t have the Americans launching another crazy rescue mission.”

  “Do we need to prepare for a retaliation from the Americans?”

  President Rosinski motioned with his hand. “No. The Americans crossed our border on a secret rescue mission. They will never admit their mistake in public.”

  “We can always let the Chechens kill the pilots,” suggested Director Tremonov.

  President Rosinski looked down at the top of his desk. He needed the Americans to move their focus away from Eastern Europe. “Force Umirov to release the American pilots, I don’t care how you do it. Then eliminate Umirov and his men.”

  Director Tremonov held back his opposition to releasing the Americans. “The building where the American pilots are being held is heavily booby-trapped. I’m concerned that in a stressful situation Umirov might panic and kill the Americans.”

  “Nikolai… life is a risk. I trust that your team can get the American pilots out safely. Protect their lives as if they were your own.”

  27

  Susan got up from her desk to greet Senator Reynolds and Ambassador Dashkov. Senator Reynolds wore a tight polo shirt; his broad shoulders drew Susan’s attention. She felt her face blush and quickly turned her thoughts back to work.

  She tried to put their previous adversarial meeting behind them by warmly inviting Ambassador Dashkov to a more relaxed location. “It looks like we’ve got a break from the dreary winter weather. Let’s get out of this stuffy office and enjoy the sunshine while it lasts. Follow me.”

  Senator Reynolds and Ambassador Dashkov exchanged glances. Ambassador Dashkov shrugged his shoulders and followed Susan out of the Oval Office. Susan led the men down the White House hallway. “Ambassador Dashkov, how’s your morning been so far?”

  “I’m a bit worn out. Senator Reynolds is tougher on the squash court than I anticipated. I’ll be sure to clear my evening social calendar before our next match.”

  Susan chuckled. “I’m glad to hear you two are getting along.” Susan made a right down the next hallway. “Ambassador, I apologize for the harsh request I made in our last meeting. My intention was not to offend you, or the Soviet Union. I’m sure you understand that getting our pilots home safe is extremely important to the United States. I overstepped my bounds. I have no doubt that the Soviet Union is working as hard as possible to find our pilots.”

  Ambassador Dashkov replied, “Madam President, no apology necessary. The Soviet Union also wants your pilots returned home safely. The Chechen rebels are not friends of the Soviet Union—they are terrorists operating within our borders.”

  “Thank you, Ambassador, I’m glad we share the same goals.” Susan opened the French doors to the White House Rose Garden. “Gentlemen, let’s sit outside while we talk.” Susan continued through the door and onto the cement patio. She took a deep breath of fresh air, bent down to take off her heels, and wiggled her toes in the grass. She led the men across the lawn toward the opposite end of the Rose Garden. “I love the crisp air and the feeling of grass underneath my bare feet. It reminds me of back home. Ambassador, what do you miss most about living in the Soviet Union?”

  “Hmm… that’s an interesting question.” Ambassador Dashkov looked up at the blue sky for a moment before answering. “There are two things that keep me connected to home while I’m in America. A Soviet bath house just south of Logan Circle here in Washington. Seeing the familiar faces is nice, but the smells and sounds are what really bring my thoughts back home.” Ambassador Dashkov paused his response to look around the Rose Garden. “And, of course, family meals on Sundays. There is nothing like family to bring you back to reality when you’re thinking too highly of yourself.” Ambassador Dashkov smiled.

  Susan laughed. “That’s for sure. Have a seat.” The midcentury handcrafted Woodlawn chairs were arranged in a circle with a matching wood table in the center. “Ambassador Dashkov, you mentioned the captured pilots. Is there anything you can share about the search?”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t know any additional details that haven’t already been communicated to the Pentagon from the KGB office in Moscow. We’re still looking for the Chechen terrorist cell responsible. The KGB field officers in the area have been questioning their contacts that have ties to the Chechens.”

  “Do you think the group holding our pilots is pretending to be Chechen?” asked Susan.

  Ambassador Dashkov tilted his head and raised an eyebrow while contemplating the question. “That is a good question. I’m not a military strategist, so please don’t take my opinion as the truth. In the Soviet Union, we have dealt with terrorism and extremist groups for centuries. We have a widely known zero-tolerance policy. The Chechens are the only group we know of that is willing to sacrifice themselves and their family for their cause. I don’t know of another group that dedicated. That’s a long way of saying, no.”

  “This is a difficult topic for both of our countries. I appreciate your candor.”

  “Madam President, if you have the time, I’d like to bring up another difficult topic.”

  “Absolutely, go ahead.”

  “Senator Reynolds and I were discussing this earlier in the morning.… As you may have seen in the news, Soviets living in America are becoming the targets of racial slurs and vandalism. I don’t think either of us wants to see this continue. Is there something we can do?”

  Susan pursed her lips. “I’ve seen the news reports and it’s terrible. I assure you the people carrying out these crimes do not represent the views of the American people. You have my word that we will prosecute the individuals responsible to the full extent of the law.”

  Ambassador Dashkov nodded his head. “Thank you for understanding.”

  “Ambassador, is there anything else you would like to discuss?”

  “No, I don’t want to take up any more of your precious time, Madam President. Thank you for taki
ng the time to listen.”

  “I’m always available. Let me walk with you back inside the White House.”

  “That’s not necessary, Madam President. Enjoy the beautiful sunshine. I know my way around,” replied Ambassador Dashkov.

  “Squash, next week, same time?” asked Senator Reynolds.

  “Absolutely.” Ambassador Dashkov turned and walked across the Rose Garden lawn into the White House.

  Susan turned toward Senator Reynolds, “So, what do you think?”

  “I think he’s awfully quick for his age. I’m going to have trouble beating him.”

  Susan rolled her eyes.

  “Sorry. I don’t know. I think he’s a politician. He isn’t going to give up any information; he’s going to do his best to stay neutral and be an advocate for the Soviet people. All that being said, I don’t trust him.”

  Susan pressed, “Why?”

  “I don’t know, something just isn’t right. I can’t put my finger on it. But I don’t trust him.” Senator Reynolds shrugged his shoulders. “I mean he’s the Soviet ambassador, is it that surprising that I don’t trust him?”

  “No, probably not. I get the same feeling. He’s hiding something. I have a feeling the Soviets know the location of the pilots and are keeping it to themselves.” Susan shook her head and paused. “Did you find any other options for sanctions? I still think we can force President Rosinski to tell us what he knows about the pilots. If we can push him hard enough with the sanctions, he won’t have a choice.”

  Senator Reynolds frowned. He’d only been the chair of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee for a few months. He was still learning the rules. “Ahhh… there are options but I wouldn’t call them good. It looks like we’ve done everything we can in terms of straightforward sanctions related to the Ukraine. The next step is to target exports of the Soviet Union and target their trade partners. We can legally do that, but I can’t predict all the unintended foreign relations consequences.”