The Forever Spy

by Jeffrey Layton

  Nick and Elena had had this discussion before.

  “Nicolai, you owe me big-time.”

  “I do, and I’m ready to make it right.”

  “Oh, really!”

  “Yes. I have reservations for us tonight at the Four Seasons—eight o’clock.”

  “You’re in Vancouver?”

  “I will be. I’m about to head to the airport now.”

  “I don’t know. I’m supposed to attend a reception and a dinner at the—”

  “Don’t worry about it. I already talked with the chief of mission. He invited me, too. I told him we’d attend the reception, have a couple of drinks, and then bug out. He gave his blessing.”

  “Hmm, sounds like you’ve thought this one through carefully.”

  “Always, my love.”

  “So, you’ll come here first—to the mission and then we’ll go to the reception?”

  “Right, my plane lands around three. I’ll take a cab.”

  “Well, then, be prepared to spend big-time tonight. You know I love seafood, and I’ll be famished by then.”

  “I’m counting on it.” Nick glanced at his watch and said, “Wow, I’m late for a staff meeting. I’ve got to go.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do vstrechi.”—See you soon.

  “Poka.”—Bye for now.

  * * *

  Elena returned the telephone handset to its base. She leaned back in her chair and gazed through the window at the cityscape, a smile blossoming. Of all of her lovers, past and present, private and professional, Nick was near the summit of perfection. Her lust for him was genuine.

  Still, she found the timing odd. Why had he waited so long? They’d had several post-mission telephone discussions, always ending with the promise that they’d hook up soon.

  He must have broken up with that little bljad’.

  Elena had learned about Nick’s lover from a female courier who frequented both the consulate and the trade mission. Elena pried the gossip out of the twenty-two-year-old after two glasses of wine at a Vancouver bar. When Nick returned to San Francisco after the Neva mission, he and the cyber technician from Saint Petersburg resumed their long-standing bed-sharing arrangement.

  Elena’s body tingled as she anticipated the events of the evening to come and the hazard that accompanied the pending rendezvous. Nick was second in command of the SVR on the West Coast of North America.

  Kwan Chi’s promise to wire the final payment when Yuri Kirov delivered the data remained fused into Elena’s memory core.

  If Nick only knew . . .

  * * *

  “It’s okay, honey,” whispered Laura as she held Madelyn. The infant finished nursing, feeling full but fussy due to teething pain.

  Sitting in the cabin chair with Maddy’s head resting on her left shoulder, Laura swayed her torso back and forth, mimicking the rocker at home. She also tapped her daughter’s upper back tenderly, helping to expel the gas in her tummy.

  Madelyn let out a robust burp.

  “There you go! Now you’ll feel better.”

  Reunited an hour earlier, the two women who attended Laura had brought Madelyn into the cabin along with the car carrier and two cardboard boxes chockfull of supplies—disposable diapers, a container of wipes, several fresh baby pajama outfits, formula, and two dozen bottles of assorted Gerber baby foods.

  The guards offered no explanations. They continued to conceal their faces.

  Still confined to the cabin but no longer bound to the chair, Laura was thankful to have her daughter back.

  “It’ll be okay, sweetie. Yuri will rescue us.”

  * * *

  Nick sat in the backseat of the Uber cab as it sped south on Highway 101, headed for San Francisco International. The stated purpose of his visit to Vancouver station was to evaluate the mission’s security protocols. He could have sent one of his minions but chose to make the trip himself.

  The principal function of the mission was to promote trade between eastern Russia and western Canada. But it also served as an SVR outpost. Like most of the developed nations—West or East—Russia was always on the lookout for opportunities. Economic espionage was now on par with the military spying.

  It was a game that the host nations tolerated—to a point. Blatant spying and/or overt agent recruitment by SVR officers could result in expulsion of the mission from the country. It was Nick’s job to make certain that did not happen.

  Like Elena, Nick looked forward to the upcoming evening. Elena was an exquisite lover; she had nearly worn him out during their last coupling. And maybe tonight they would rekindle that crazed firestorm.

  But Nick also had reservations.

  Yuri had insisted that Elena’s involvement with Laura Newman’s abduction went much further than serving just as an SVR messenger. Yuri suspected that she was working for the PRC. Nick didn’t buy it. Elena was a pro; she had a bright future with the SVR.

  Elena turned—no way!

  Nevertheless, before leaving Seattle Nick had promised Yuri he would check on Elena and report back. He also recommended that Yuri retrieve the underwater intel to secure Laura’s release.

  Nick had already initiated a backchannel investigation of the Vancouver mission, part of his job. He had detailed profiles on the entire staff from the chief to the lowest clerk. Elena’s file revealed that during the past year, she’d taken on a new lover—a submarine squadron commander in Vladivostok. The file also provided a summary of her travels throughout East Asia. There were no reports of her visits to the States, which he found disquieting. Yuri had reported that she’d visited him at his Redmond office and again in a downtown Seattle high-rise.

  Even more of a concern was the lack of chatter within the SVR regarding Yuri’s so-called resurrection. Nick had again made quiet inquiries to Moscow about Yuri’s status; he remained missing and presumed dead.

  After reviewing the active case files regarding Elena, he had found nothing to indicate her involvement with a joint SVR and Chinese Intelligence op to retrieve Yuri’s underwater recording pods. Nothing in the system related to that operation, which because of its nature was not alarming to Nick. However, Elena’s file did reveal that she’d been tasked with recruiting an unnamed Chinese businessman.

  Nick’s trip to Vancouver would allow him to quiz Elena on her current work while at the same time renewing their intimate friendship. He could hardly wait.

  CHAPTER 49

  “How do you like Vladivostok?” Nick Orlov asked. “It’s okay. You know, it’s a Navy town.” Elena Krestyanova picked up her wineglass and took a sip.

  Nick and Elena sat at a cozy table in a quiet corner of the five-star restaurant in downtown Vancouver. They’d already ordered dinner. A chilled bottle of a California sauvignon blanc occupied a corner of the table.

  “I visited there once. I know what you mean—typical seaport.”

  “Yes, and that place just happens to be loaded with droves of horny young sailors. This I know from experience.”

  Nick laughed. With Elena’s long and lean figure, shoulder-length blond hair, and endearing smile, she must have attracted catcalls and wolf whistles when walking about in the seaside city.

  “Will you be relocating permanently to Vladivostok?”

  “No way. I’m still based out of here, thank God. But I’ll report in there now and then while working.”

  “Your China assignment.”

  She nodded while taking another taste of wine.

  “I’m headed to Beijing next month,” Nick said.

  “Oh really—anything you can discuss?”

  “I’m traveling with the consulate general. Another bullshit goodwill tour. Kind of like what you’ve been doing for the trade mission.”

  “The new alliance with our Asian ally?”

  “Yep.”

  Elena smirked and said, “Our bosom buddies.”

  Nick chuckled. “Like we can really trust them. They’ll screw us out of every barrel of oil we’ve got whi
le smiling at us the whole time.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me on that. They’re brutal negotiators. If they believe they have the advantage, they will not compromise. It’s take it or leave it.”

  None of this was news to Nick. The SVR’s moles inside the PRC’s central government provided accurate intel on China Inc.’s game plan to become the dominant power in the Western Pacific. The Taiwan problem was again heating up, the new leader of the renegade island providence strengthening ties with the United States. Taiwan’s insolence needed to be dealt with. Paramount to that goal was Beijing’s plan to force the retreat of the United States Navy back to its home waters, which was just fine with the Kremlin.

  Nick and Elena chatted for ten more minutes on geopolitics and SVR gossip, both careful not to divulge any pertinent details of their particular operations. Just after the waitstaff served their meals—both ordered grilled Chinook salmon—Nick broached a new subject.

  “Elena, I need to apologize again for what happened last year with the boat. It was out of my hands. We just couldn’t wait any longer.”

  Elena was about to munch on a morsel of salmon but instead set her fork back on the plate and looked Nick in the eye. “I forgive you, Nick. Stop worrying about it.”

  “Thank you.”

  They made small talk for the next few minutes. Nick carefully orchestrated the discourse back to their previous joint op.

  Nick finally said, “What happened to the Neva once it made it home?”

  After taking a sip of water Elena said, “The last I heard it was going to be decommissioned. It was too damaged to be repaired.”

  “That’s not surprising.”

  “I agree.”

  Nick chose his next words cautiously. “Have you heard anything about where Yuri might be?”

  Elena ran a hand through her hair. “I have no idea. You would know more than me.”

  “Laura told me she was going to get him help for decompression sickness. That was the last I heard.”

  “Have you contacted her?”

  “No. She asked that I leave her alone. After all she did to help Yuri and the crew, I decided to honor that request.”

  Elena drained her wineglass. “He was a good guy all right. I wonder if he survived.”

  “He was, and I hope he did.”

  Nick refilled her glass and continued with his meal, having completed the first element of his stealth interrogation.

  Elena had lied about contacting Yuri—and Laura. Nick wondered what else she was hiding.

  CHAPTER 50

  DAY 27—SATURDAY

  It was 1:35 A.M. aboard the Ella Kay. The workboat was about two miles north of Dungeness Spit. The seas were calm this early morning. The flush of luminosity to the north marked the City of Victoria, sixteen miles across the Strait of Juan de Fuca.

  In the late afternoon, Deep Adventurer located the underwater recording pod that Yuri had planted on the seabed the previous year. The Ella Kay was above the pod, headed into the flooding tidal current with just enough thrust to maintain a stationary position. The workboat’s diesel engine and the bow and stern thrusters were all in sync with the GPS-linked autopilot. As long as the wind did not exceed twenty knots, the Ella Kay could maintain its alignment over the bottom coordinates within a twenty-foot circle. Such precision was necessary to deploy the remotely operated vehicle.

  Yuri was inside the cabin sitting at the galley table, his eyes fixed on a laptop display. With his right hand, he worked a joystick control. A thin wire encased in black insulation linked the hand controller to a computerized power control module located on the main deck about forty feet aft. That device connected to a nearby deck-mounted reel that housed a thousand feet of quarter-inch-diameter cable. Almost six hundred feet of the cable snaked over the gunwale and descended into the water. The neutrally buoyant tether supplied electrical power and communications to the ROV.

  Nicknamed Barnacle, the underwater robot hovered over the sandy bottom nearly 450 feet below the sea surface. About the size of a shopping cart, it housed a floodlight-illuminated high-definition video camera that focused on a rock outcrop. The boulder protruded about a half meter above the seabed.

  David Wang, aka Lieutenant Commander Wang Park, stood next to Yuri, also eyeing the laptop’s screen. “How will you attach that line? There’s nothing to tie to.”

  “Just wait. You’ll see.”

  Yuri twisted the joystick to the side and Barnacle’s articulated arm extended into view. He moved the appendage over the partially embedded stone and then rotated the clamp at the end of the arm until it lined up with the rock.

  Yuri next swung the arm downward, allowing the blunt end of the clamp to strike the stone. After contact, the top of the boulder peeled back, exposing a stainless steel ring.

  Wang swore in Mandarin, amazed at how skillfully the listening device blended into the seabed.

  Yuri used Barnacle’s artificial arm to attach a steel cable to the lifting ring. He turned to Wang and said, “It’s secure. Have your man reel it in—but slowly.”

  Wang retreated to the workboat’s stern, where he issued the orders.

  As the crane reeled in the lifting cable, Yuri kept watch with the ROV’s video feed. The slack in the wire rope disappeared as the winch retracted the cable. The cable tugged on the lifting ring and the motor struggled against the line tension, broadcasting a low-pitched groan, which Yuri could hear from inside the cabin. He feared the motor would stall out. But the strain lessened as the pod broke free of the bottom. Ten minutes later, the Russian Navy’s secret underwater surveillance device lay on Ella Kay’s main deck.

  Yuri and Wang stood beside the recording pod. Yuri had already removed the boulder-shaped fiberglass housing that had projected above the seabed. The underlying cylinder was about six feet long and slightly over two feet in diameter. Wood blocks placed on the deck along each side of the cylinder prevented it from rolling in response to the low ocean swells that continued to travel eastward along the waterway. Deep Adventurer was in its cradle next to the pod.

  “How does it look?” asked Wang.

  “Okay. I don’t see any damage.”

  “Can you open it—to see if there’s data inside?”

  “Yes, but very carefully.”

  “Why?”

  “It has an anti-tamper mechanism. Open the unit in the wrong sequence and a small charge will destroy the equipment.”

  “What do we do?”

  “First, I need to disarm it. Then we can check data files.” Yuri dropped to his knees and examined the exterior surface of the pod.

  Wang squatted next to Yuri. “How can I help?”

  Yuri gestured toward a nearby bulkhead. “There’s a toolbox inside the locker. I need the set of Allen wrenches plus socket wrenches.”

  “I’ll get them.”

  To avoid the commercial traffic in the nearby shipping lanes, the Ella Kay retreated southeastward several miles. It jogged a slow orbit in Dungeness Bay, just east of the Dungeness Spit. The predawn skies had clouded and the wind kicked up.

  Yuri opened the Russian underwater monitoring device and extracted the one-hundred-terabyte data pack. When he transferred the first five-gigabyte file to his laptop to run a diagnostic test on the acoustic recordings, he discovered a glitch. The data was contaminated. Five additional tests on randomly selected files produced the same results. He and Wang discussed the situation.

  “Based on these tests,” Yuri said, “I suspect the entire data pack is contaminated.”

  “What caused this?”

  “I’m not sure. There must have been a malfunction with one of the hydrophones, which somehow distorted the ambient acoustic level.” Yuri pointed to his Dell. Digital static filled the screen. “I think there’s real data in there, but extracting it is going to be a bitch.”

  “How do you extract the data?”

  “I’ll have to come up with a filter. We had similar problems with hydrographic data from our AUV p
rojects. We ended up writing a program that filtered out the junk.”

  “Good, then do the same with this data.”

  “Not so easy.” Again pointing to the screen, Yuri continued, “This is acoustic recording data over a wide spectrum, not a narrow beam echo sounder, which was where the problem with the AUV data occurred. For the monitoring pod, there are magnitudes more of raw data that require analysis.”

  Wang frowned, peering down at the deck. “We’re both running out of time. Can you do this or not?”

  The threat remained in the background.

  “Yes, but I’ll need to take the data pack to my office and use the software we have available.”

  “How long will that take?”

  Yuri raised his hands, signaling his frustration. “I’ll need several days.”

  “You’ve got forty-eight hours. But that’s it.”

  “Forty-eight hours once I get back to my office—I’ve got to have at least that much.”

  Wang sighed. “All right, but we need to head back to Anacortes now.”

  “Good, but I have a suggestion before we leave.”

  “What?”

  “I’d like to redeploy Deep Adventurer now instead of waiting until later.”

  “Don’t you have to recharge the batteries longer?” The AUV was currently charging.

  “No. The second pod is only about sixty kilometers west of the one we recovered. It’s across the Strait on the Canadian side. Deep Adventurer has plenty of juice left for that.”

  Wang checked his wristwatch. “We need to get this data analyzed first. It can wait.”

  Yuri frowned. “Look, Wang, I want to get this over with—you know why.”

  Wang started to protest but Yuri held up his hand. “We may need the second pod as a backup—assuming it’s still there. The chances of the recordings on that unit having the same type of contamination as this one should be minimal. One other thing, I know Moscow, and I suspect your people, too, want recordings of submerged American missile subs. We are much more likely to have that data on the second pod because it’s located in the region where their subs sound.”

  Wang was sold. “Okay, let’s do it.”