Red Sky

by Chris Goff

  The fissure expanded. “Yes.”

  “It’s the EaP Summit. The Eastern Partnership is an initiative of the European Union composed of leaders from the post-Soviet states.”

  “I know about the EaP.”

  “The purpose of the summit is to open up trade, develop economics strategies, and revisit travel policies with the EU. If the two entities reached an agreement, it will derail the Russians’ plan of reunifying the Soviet bloc as the Eurasian Union.”

  “Where is it being held?”

  “Gdánsk.”

  Poland. And there you have it. “How many other leaders will be there?”

  “The six foreign ministers in the EaP, and twenty-eight representatives from the EU countries. There will also be other top politicians there, like the ambassador. And since its Gdánsk in the summer, I’ll bet most of them brought their families.”

  Thirty-four European and East European leaders. “This is all about the who, though.”

  “It’s a big deal,” Lory said. “A yes vote cements a relationship between the EaP and the EU. Everyone expects it to pass. The signing is scheduled for sixteen hundred hours tomorrow afternoon.”

  Jordan sat for a moment, contemplating the magnitude of damage the Russians could do. Someone needed to act.

  “The first thing we need to do is find the long car and ascertain if the Russians are on that train,” she said. “Once we do that, we’ll have a better idea if Gdánsk is their target. It’s possible they’re headed to Kaliningrad.”

  She was grasping at alternatives and knew it, but it made sense for them to take the weapon there. Kaliningrad sat smack dab in the center of the small Russian enclave wedged between Poland and Lithuania and served as a Russian naval air base and manufacturing city for trade between Russia and the EU. It was only two hundred kilometers from Gdánsk.

  “We should be so lucky,” Lory said.

  “Can we at least raise a red flag?”

  “The ambassador has made it clear. He isn’t going to change his agenda or do anything to disrupt the signing without substantiated threats. Especially not one that involves the Russians. We need to find them, Jordan.”

  “Then we need to get eyes on that train, sir.”

  “I’ll pull the spy satellite images and forward them to you. Meanwhile I’ll send someone out to question the personnel at the train yard in Yares’ky and to reinterview the police officers involved in the chase. Somebody has to know something.”

  “Someone on the ground had to be helping them,” she said. “What about alerting Krakow?”

  “I’ll put in a call to my counterpart and have him send someone over to see if the train arrived with the long car still attached. You need to be ready to move on my orders.” Lory cleared his throat. “Our job is protecting the ambassador, Jordan. And now that means finding that weapon.”

  Davis had been quiet, listening to the one-sided conversation. When she hung up, he waited for her to speak.

  “Can your source pull photos of the area east of L’viv? We need to go as far east as Krakow.”

  Jordan hadn’t given him all the details, and Davis hadn’t bought into her conspiracy theory. Not until they’d gone back to the hotel and spent the next few hours waiting for the images of the train to come in and digging up research on relations between China and Russia. What they’d pieced together was a frightening scenario that amounted to a geopolitical coup and cemented the theory that the Russians planned to attack the EaP Summit.

  Proving the Russians and Deng Xue were working together was another story. The two countries were certainly friendly. The thaw began with President Xi Jinping’s visit to Moscow in 2013, and since then the relationship had only strengthened. Xi was a popular president, pushing for what he coined the “Chinese Dream,” not unlike the “American Dream.” But the Chinese Dream wasn’t about the individual, but about the collective lifestyle.

  China and Russia needed each other. Trade was the cornerstone of Xi’s plan. Putin fantasized about opening a trade route to Germany. A Russia–China collaboration would allow for a network of new trade routes Xi called the “New Silk Roads,” but it all hinged on whether Putin succeeded in developing the Eurasian Union.

  Seated cross-legged on the bed beside Davis, who was propped against the headboard, Jordan grabbed him by the arm to get his attention and pointed to the tablet. “Here’s the tie-in. You were right, it’s all about money.”

  Davis scooted up to listen.

  “If Putin had succeeded in pulling together the former Soviet bloc countries, the EU would be signing an agreement to open trade with the Eurasian Union, not the EaP.”

  Davis closed the tablet and set it aside. “Or all this could be a coincidence, and the Russians could be headed for Kaliningrad. You said it yourself.”

  “We both know that’s where they plan to end up, with a railgun strategically positioned near the mouth of the Baltic Sea. But they won’t go there before putting an end to an EaP and EU agreement.”

  “Either way, it means the train went north.”

  “Or possibly just the truck.”

  Chapter 36

  Davis’s source never called back, but Lory came through with the spy satellite images late in the afternoon. Cameras showed the long car crossing the border, so Jordan and Davis scoured the photos between there and Krakow. Every now and then, they caught glimpses of things hidden below the tree cover, things that might be a train but could just as easily be rooftops. The first time the train was clearly visible put it just outside Tarnow, Poland. By then, the long car was already gone.

  Within the hour, Jordan and Davis were in a rental car headed to Poland. She had intended to leave him behind. Lory would have insisted on it. But Davis had been a big help, enough to earn his stripes. Plus she figured she might need the backup. They’d struck a new deal. If he did anything to compromise this mission, she would charge him with obstruction and throw him jail with Zhen.

  The route was easy, straight down the M10 to the border. Lory had his people checking visuals on all trains headed north from Rzeszow and Prezeworsk, the only two places where the train car could have been diverted. She hoped he found the information they needed by the time they reached the border.

  The road proved a challenge. If the roads in Poltava were pitted, the road to Poland was full of divots. The map indicated seventy-one kilometers to their destination, a trip that should take a little over an hour. Hitting another pothole, Jordan doubled the time in her head. They would get there by 10:00 PM—provided they made it with all four tires.

  Davis braced himself as she swerved. “What happens if we get there?”

  Jordan laughed. “We’re meeting a JW GROM unit at the customs crossing.”

  “In English, please.”

  “It’s short for Jednostika Wojskowa Grupa Reagowania Operacyjno-Manewrowego, translation: the Military Unit Group for Operational Maneuvering. Basically it’s a Polish Special Forces unit, or GROM for short. We’re supposed to connect with Captain Adamski, who heads up one of the best teams in the world. GROM ranks right up there with the SAS and Navy SEALs. I don’t imagine the captain will be happy to follow my lead on this.”

  “He’ll come around. Wait until I tell him how you thrashed the Triad.”

  “I did sort of kick their asses.” She glanced over at Davis.

  They rode in companionable silence. With previous lovers, she’d felt pressure to carry on conversation the next day, but not with Davis. He made it easy.

  He dozed off as Jordan wove the car through the Ukrainian countryside, taking in the lush farm fields, the well-kept houses, the children playing in the yards. Here was a world removed from the turmoil in the east. It was almost as if she could divide the country in half.

  Rounding the next corner, a large brightly lit building loomed into sight. Two flags flapped in the wind—one Ukrainian, one Polish. She gently nudged Davis.

  “We’re here.”

  The border guard waved them in and
asked to see their passports. Next there came a customs guard, then a Polish guard and a Polish customs guard. At the last stop, a large dog came out and circled their car. Communication was difficult. The guards didn’t speak English. Jordan didn’t speak Polish. They settled on French. In all, it took them thirty minutes to cross the border, and by the time Jordan pulled into the well-lit parking lot on the west side of the building, they were running late.

  This fact was not lost on the military captain sitting in front of an air-conditioning unit waiting impatiently. “Agent Jordan?”

  He stood, towering over them. She introduced herself and Davis.

  “I wasn’t informed that you’d have someone with you.” His accent was thick, and she had to listen carefully. “We’ve extended you the courtesy of carrying your weapon, but arrangements have not been made for this man.”

  “He doesn’t carry a gun.”

  Davis kept his mouth shut, and the captain let the matter drop, to Jordan’s relief. If he’d chosen to contact Lory, there would’ve been hell to pay.

  “Have you talked with the train crew yet?” she asked.

  “No. I’ve been waiting for you.” The captain headed for the door, leading the way to a large black Land Rover Defender. Davis climbed into the back, Jordan into the front passenger seat.

  “Where’s your team?” Davis asked.

  Jordan wondered the same thing. Based on her past experience with the Russians, she knew they were going to need one.

  “Let’s first see what we learn.” He merged onto the M10 and drove west. “It’s about half an hour to the train yard in Rzeszow. You want to tell me what this is about?”

  Jordan wasn’t sure how much he already knew, so she started at the beginning and told him only what he needed to know. The plane had crashed, a Ukrainian medical transport carrying two dead Americans was attacked, and a country doctor and his wife were murdered. “We believe the men responsible are Russian. It appears they may have escaped into Poland by hiding on a railroad car.”

  “I’m assuming these men are heavily armed.”

  “Yes, they have weapons.”

  “Any big enough to shoot down a plane?”

  The captain was sharp. Either that or he’d seen Davis’s report. Jordan went with the truth. “Yes.”

  Their arrival at the train yard saved her from having to answer more questions. After a consult with the trainmaster, they were escorted to a small break room in the back of the main building. It was cramped, with yellow lighting and plastic and metal furniture. A good decor choice if the intent was to discourage loitering. Before they had time to sit, a team of four men and one woman came in.

  “I’m the yardmaster. The trainmaster says you wanted to talk to us,” the woman said, taking an alpha role. She clearly wanted the GROM officer and his colleagues to know whose turf they were on.

  Jordan countered. “We have reason to believe that a long refrigeration car was taken off a train that came through here sometime last night. It was part of the train carrying the remains of PR Flight 91.”

  “I remember it.”

  “That long car never arrived in Krakow. We need to know where it’s gone.”

  The yardmaster walked over, picked up a clipboard, and flipped back through the pages. “It was rerouted north, headed to Elblag.”

  Jordan looked toward the captain.

  “It’s up near the Baltic Sea, close to Gdánsk,” he said.

  “It’s also close to the Russian border,” Davis reminded her.

  “Do your records indicate who issued the order to reroute the car?”

  The yardmaster scanned down the sheet. “It was signed by a Ukrainian sergeant in Hoholeve.”

  What were the odds? “His name wasn’t Hycha by any chance?”

  The yardmaster looked up. “Yes. It says right here. Sergeant Stas Hycha.”

  Hycha’s involvement answered the question of how the Russians knew where to ambush the transport. It also explained why he wasn’t there to provide backup. He’d manipulated the situation from the start, but it still didn’t answer the question of who had ordered the Russians to shoot down the plane or whether Poland was part of their original plan. She doubted Hycha or even the Russians on the ground were orchestrating this plot. They were answering to someone, but who?

  “Can you stop the train?”

  “No, it’s already left Elblag and is headed toward Gdánsk.”

  “May I have a copy of that?” Jordan asked. The yardmaster sent one of the men to make a copy. After he came back, the crew filed out, and Jordan turned to Adamski.

  “Captain, your team needs to meet the train.”

  “I can issue the order, but first I want to know what’s really going on.”

  Jordan went with the truth again. Better they all be on the same page going forward. She told him about the gun and what they believed was the next target.

  The captain stood ramrod straight while she talked, then took a moment, digesting the information. “Have the summit leaders been informed of the danger?”

  “A few of them know.”

  “Then why haven’t they taken precautions?”

  She glanced at Davis, who leaned against the wall, watching quietly.

  “For two reasons,” she said. “One is that we don’t want to alert them to the fact that we’re onto their end game.”

  “Alleged end game,” Davis threw in. “For all we know, they could be headed straight for Kaliningrad.”

  Jordan shot him a look. “We don’t know who is behind the attack. It could be the Russian mafia looking out for their own interests, or it could be someone else issuing the orders. Either way, if they think we’re close to stopping them, they might decide to act sooner.”

  “And the second reason?”

  This is where it got dicey, thought Jordan.

  “We don’t have any proof to back up our claim. It’s hard to convince anyone to take action when you have no tangible evidence.”

  Now she sounded like Lory. In truth, she hoped Adamski would ignore their reasoning and alert someone to the danger.

  “None?”

  She thought back. Between the three of them, they’d destroyed everything. She had a picture of Deng Xue and an e-mailed file the government didn’t want exposed. She had fragments taken from the crash scene that showed high levels of rare-earth metals tracing back to a Chinese manufacturer that was one of the leading exporters of Chinese steel. They had a witness who was wanted for treason, and they had a boatload of conjecture.

  “None. We can only substantiate the attack on the ambulance. We can’t prove the Russians’ capabilities or intent.”

  “You have nothing, and yet here you are.” He looked down on her, forcing her to take a step back to meet his eyes.

  “You have my word, Captain. Please believe me when I tell you there is a credible threat.”

  Adamski rubbed his chin, searched her eyes again, and then jerked his head toward the door. “Then we better get going.”

  Chapter 37

  Lory choked on whatever he was drinking when she told him about Hycha. “I’ll have the Ukrainians detain him for questioning. Maybe they can break him and get us something actionable.”

  “Do you know where the signing is taking place?”

  “In the old town hall at the end of Dluga Street. It’s a popular tourist area.”

  She repeated the information for the captain and Davis, who pulled up a picture on his tablet and turned it so she could see. A wide stone street lined with tightly packed two-story houses ended at a large brick building with a clock tower topped by a belfry. All along the street were signs for shops and outdoor eateries, and the picture showed people, lots of people, strolling.

  “A direct hit will annihilate that building.”

  “That’s why you’re going to find the weapon and destroy it. You have fourteen hours, Jordan.”

  No pressure there.

  “I appreciate your vote of confidence, sir, but I ne
ed you to do something for me. I need you to bring Kia Zhen to Gdánsk.”

  The silence that followed was so complete, Jordan thought for a moment the call had dropped. Then Lory’s voice erupted in her ear. “Why in hell would I do that?”

  “In case we don’t find the gun. He’s met the Russians. He can identify them. Consider him our plan B.”

  * * *

  Adamski and Davis were leaning against the fender of the Land Rover when she hung up the phone. The captain’s team was headed to the train station in Elblag.

  “How much have you told them?” Jordan asked.

  “Only that we’re helping the Americans look for some Russians who are wanted for murdering one of their agents. I’m hoping they’ll have some answers for us by the time we get to Elblag.”

  “How far away is it?”

  “Seven and one-half hours by car. It won’t take us that long.”

  A Special Forces’ tactical transport helicopter picked them up in Rzeszow, and the flight took just over two hours. It reminded Jordan of her old training missions, only this was for real, with real lives at stake. Their flight path crossed acre after acre of wooded land broken by small villages. Darker areas dotted the ground, most likely lakes. Unfortunately, there was plenty of wooded territory to hide in.

  The GROM team radioed from Elblag. They’d interviewed the ground crew and let them go home. According to the crew, the long car had passed through the station. It showed on paper but couldn’t be confirmed by camera feeds.

  Adamski sent them on to Gdánsk to check on the train and told them to wait there for further instructions.

  On the ground in Elblag, Jordan and Davis walked across to the train station while Adamski refueled the chopper at the helipad. Jordan found it hard to believe that there were no visuals of the trains passing through. Nearing the building, she spotted two cameras up in the eaves.

  “Check it out,” she said to Davis. “Why would the yardmen lie to GROM?”

  “Maybe they didn’t. Maybe the cameras aren’t hooked up. Or it could be the system’s down.” He rattled the door, but it was locked up tight.