by Bob Blink
“Cleared for takeoff, one four right, maintain runway heading through two thousand five hundred, three six November,” Jake replied.
Laney taxied smoothly onto the runway, turned the plane to align it with the centerline, and applied the brakes with both feet. Jake could sense a slight nervousness in Laney, who normally flew in a more rural setting than the busy Virginia Beach area. He’d also never flown over the ocean or anywhere so far from an emergency landing spot, which Jake had explained was part of their plan for the day.
Laney slowly pushed the throttle forward with his right hand allowing the turbo charger to spool up to maximum take off power. After a couple of careful checks of key gauges that reflected the state of the engine, Laney released the brakes and began his take-off roll.
A short time later the plane passed through seventy knots airspeed. Laney held it on the ground a little longer than Jake would have done, but then he eased back on the stick to rotate, beginning their climb. As the plane passed through one hundred feet and 110 knots, Laney retracted the flaps, and the two men could sense the increased acceleration. Laney reduced the throttle to climb power and adjusted the trim for hands off flight.
“Three six November, contact departure,” Norfolk tower called.
“Switching to departure, three six November,” Jake replied doing his part. He wished it was his hand on the controls, and made a silent promise to himself to bring his status current when this was over and spend some time flying again.
Jake switched to the departure control frequency and pushed the mic button.
“Norfolk departure, Cessna seven three three six November is with you climbing through three thousand for one two thousand,” Jake said.
“Three six November radar contact,” Norfolk departure informed him.
Jake settled in to watch the scenery below. Laney was smoother than he’d been during the test flight, a combination of having been at the controls again, and the fact no one was looking over his shoulder.
Their flight plan took them west along the north shore of Virginia Beach, then they turned north along the western shore of Chesapeake Bay. There were multiple rivers that led westward, including the Potomac ahead that would lead them back to Washington, DC. Jake was amazed by the number of boats on the water. In addition to the large commercial ships, there were hundreds of smaller private craft, from small one or two-man sailboats to yachts of the size they were currently living on, to several larger even than that of Toby Widner. They seemed to be headed randomly, with some of the larger craft headed toward the mouth of the bay towards the open sea.
They flew northward for forty-five minutes, then changed course eastward, which took them across the open bay, then across a long finger of land and then out over the Atlantic ocean. Ahead the water stretched to the horizon. The number of small craft had dropped off now that they were over the open waters of the Atlantic, with only a handful of the larger pleasure yachts supplementing the numerous commercial vessels. Most were either headed toward the ports at Virginia Beach or Newport News, or away, having completed their business there. As Jake and Laney continued eastward, away from land, the vessels became fewer in number and farther apart.
They flew until they were twenty miles off shore, now officially over international waters. Despite the long stretches of open water that separated the ships they saw, there were a surprising number making their way north or south, in addition to those that were clearly headed toward the coast.
“Shall we head back?” Jake asked Laney after they had flown well south of Virginia Beach.
Jake had the mental picture he’d wanted, and now they could complete the last of their tasks today. While Laney made the necessary course adjustments to bring them back, Jake slid the wire antenna from the unit sitting on the seat behind Laney out the side window so it could trail in the open air, and turned the unit on. They were roughly fifteen miles from the Marine Shores Marina when they first picked up the signal. It took the unit a few minutes to fully lock on and determine the position of the tracking unit that had been placed on the East Wind the night before. The navy divers that Carlson had arranged to place the device had done a good job. The graphic display showed the signal coming from the berth where the yacht was docked. They would have no trouble tracking it the next day when it put out to sea.
Satisfied, Jake turned the unit off and retrieved the antenna. They flew back to the airport, landed, and refueled the plane so it would be ready for their flight the next morning.
After leaving the airport, Jake called the number that Lori had given him and arranged to meet the friends of the woman agent across town. Six of Lori’s friends who had been enlisted to simulate a spontaneous party of the Lazi Daze were waiting with the bags of party supplies and booze that Jake and Laney supposedly went into town shopping for. The three cars of would-be partygoers made their way back to the marina, and soon loud music and dancing could be observed by those anywhere close to the small yacht.
“Tell me about the rules regulating private yachts,” Jake asked Jason Fenner. Along with Laney, the two men had gone below decks to talk while the party raged on above them.
“What would you like to know?” Fenner asked.
“We saw a lot of boats on the water today. Some of them had passed out into the open sea, some into international waters. I’m guessing that most are only out for the day, perhaps a day or two before returning to the marinas from which they left. How does customs keep track of them? They can’t all be required to pass a thorough customs inspection each time they return.”
“Generally no,” Fenner agreed, “although every boat that goes into international waters could be directed by the Customs Border Patrol [CBP] to report for an inspection. It’s pretty casual, actually. Most yacht owners are members of NEXUS. That’s a five year program that allows them certain exemptions from normal procedure. If they are berthed somewhere in the United States, then when they leave port for international waters without making a call at a foreign port they don’t satisfy the formal departure requirement. Thus fishing boats and cruises to nowhere are pretty much exempt from inspection. They are required to make a radio report signifying they are returning to port, but unless they are directed to a CBP station, they can return without an inspection. Very few are inspected.”
“So if someone takes out their yacht, say our friend across the way, and heads out into the ocean, there is nothing to prevent them from meeting up with a ship out there, taking on contraband, and them coming back in without being subject to an inspection?”
Fenner nodded. “They would simply lie about what they had been doing. I know they use satellites to watch such things, but if it happened to be a cloudy day, the coverage might not be so good, and the meet could easily be missed. It is possible that the ship being met could put out a small inflatable with the contraband, that the yacht simply picks up on. There are ways it can be done. In an area like this where the smuggling is infrequent, it would be easier than say Miami where there is a lot of it.”
“You think Widner is planning to make a pickup tomorrow?” Fenner asked. “Perhaps some more of the biological agents that are being used in the canisters we are finding?”
“The thought had crossed our minds,” Laney replied.
The Lazi Daze was quiet after the raucous party of the evening before. Jake and Laney were awake as dawn approached, watching the East Wind across the marina through the porthole of their room. With the spotting scope that was mounted on a tripod, they had a good view of the activity across the water, and there was no doubt the crew was preparing for an early departure. Toby Widner was in cutoffs and a windbreaker, and two of his women were clearly more than decoration as they actively helped with preparation. A pair of young male deckhands that neither Jake nor Laney had seen before also were part of the preparation crew.
“Other than the two deck hands, I haven’t seen anyone new,” Laney whispered. “I thought you said he claimed he would have a passenger?”
“Maybe this is him,” Jake replied softly, indicating a figure moving up the dock across the way in the direction of the East Wind.
Laney adjusted the scope, and despite the poor light of the predawn morning he hissed. “Varennikov! He’s part of this? You knew he was coming, of course.”
Laney looked at Jake, knowing that Varennikov’s presence was no surprise to his partner. All FBI agents located in Washington were required to stay current on the potential troublemakers from the various foreign government embassies, and so he recognized the man who was known to be a Soviet agent.
Jake nodded. He hadn’t known the Russian when Laney had spotted him at this point the last time they’d done this. They’d been surprised when the East Wind departed on Thursday rather than Friday as Widner had suggested, and Jake had back-tracked so they would be ready. That time he and Laney had spent most of the night watching the other boat. That was when they had spied the early morning arrival of Varennikov, which then triggered the departure of the East Wind.
“This time around. You identified him for me the last time.”
“He’s Widner’s passenger?”
Jake nodded again. “You’ll see them get underway in a few minutes. No one else will be arriving.”
As Jake predicted, the East Wind backed out of its berth less than a quarter of an hour later. The sky was cloudy, suggesting the rain that had been predicted was on the way. Not the best day for sailing, nor for flying either. Jake checked the signal on the monitor, but the small green blip that was the tracking device was reading strong at this range. He knew it wouldn’t have been found, but was reassured to see that nothing had changed this time. They watched as the indicated position moved out of the marina and headed east toward the open sea.
“We’d better get going,” Laney said. “It’ll take us a while to get to the airport.”
“No need to hurry,” Jake said. “They move a lot slower than us, and there is no point simply flying circles while we wait for them to get where they are headed. It’ll be a few hours before they get where they are going.”
They raided the galley, and ate while they watched the slow progress of the East Wind on the monitor.
“What do you want us to do?” Fenner asked.
“Alert the stake-out crew. We’ll want a close watch on the East Wind tonight. They will be off-loading their contraband, and we’ll want to see where it goes,” Jake said.
The yacht had moved beyond the land that enclosed the bay, and had turned slightly north by the time Laney and Jake stepped onto the dock and headed for their car.
The 182 was fueled and ready as they’d left it the previous afternoon. Clouds filled most of the sky, but Jake knew the rain wouldn’t actually move in until this evening, at which time he and Laney would be back, and even the East Wind would be nearing the marina when the first drops started to fall. This morning there was a brisk breeze coming off the ocean as the wind drove the coming storm their way. Nonetheless, Laney’s takeoff was precise and professional. The flying the day before had sharpened his skills. They followed the directions of the Norfolk tower until they were released to head out over the ocean, and then turned eastward.
The tracker indicated the East Wind continued to head east and slightly north. There was little of interest in that part of the ocean, suggesting they had a rendezvous waiting. They kept the plane well away from the track the yacht was following. They didn’t want to be spotted, even in the distance. So long as they were making way, there would be nothing to see.
More than two hours later, Jake announced, “They stopped moving.”
Laney adjusted their heading so they would be able to pass by at distance and see what was out there. Using binoculars, Jake could spot the large freighter that the East Wind had stopped near. They noted the latitude and longitude from their tracker. The Coast Guard would be able to identify the larger ship from the position. All shipping traffic approaching this close to the United States was monitored, and there was no other ship nearby.
“Can you make out a name?” Laney asked.
“It’s the Svyataya Anna,” Jake replied, although at this distance he couldn’t read the markings on the vessel.
“Russian,” Laney said, not entirely surprised. “What is their role in this?”
“They’re behind it,” Jake replied. “They apparently aren’t happy with some of the pressure the United States has been exerting of late, and decided that the trouble they could cause us, especially if someone else could take the blame, would be a good thing. They made some kind of deal with one of our Mid-Eastern enemies. They supply the agent, and the others see it distributed and released. Verennikov is their directing agent.”
“Hopefully we make an issue of this when it’s over,” Laney said.
“Unfortunately, we know, but we had little proof. Varennikov got away, so while something might have been done through diplomatic channels, it wasn’t ever made public.”
“We can’t let that happen,” Laney objected.
“I’m hoping we can lay our hands on Varennikov when this is over this time around. Perhaps we can make at least that much of a change.”
Having learned what they were after, Laney turned the plane toward shore. Jake called in to the Air Traffic Control, alerting the coastal defense that they were an American aircraft and were penetrating the Air Defense Intercept Zone [ADIZ]. They had filed a flight plan that indicated they would be passing out through it and returning, but he didn’t want to panic anyone by violating the zone without following the proper protocols.
They landed without incident, called Carlson and told her what they had learned, and then headed back toward Washington. Fenner and the local team would watch the East Wind. There were other matters that Jake and Laney would need to attend to.
Chapter 37
“Varennikov,” Carlson said when the three of them were gathered the next morning. Her comment didn’t reflect surprise at the man’s name. The man’s involvement had been passed to her on the call the night before, and she’d had the night to think about it and what action might be appropriate.
“The name of the ship is the Svyataya Anna, as you indicated,” she informed them. “There was plenty of time to verify that. Obviously the Russians are involved in this matter, which makes it a far bigger issue. A group of terrorists is one thing, but the involvement of Russia is technically an act of war.”
“It might be, but we don’t really have proof,” Laney pointed out. “Jake and I saw a yacht from a considerable distance. Without the tracker we wouldn’t be able to say that it was the East Wind that met up with the Svyataya Anna. There is only our word for what happened. We also have no evidence at this point that anything was transferred to the yacht.”
“We could always raid the East Wind,” Carlson suggested.
“That would alert the enemy we are on to them, and might trigger the whole thing. Even if the Russians were inclined to back out, I’m not sure they have that much control over their partners in this thing. They are supplying the toxins and some help, but most of the direct effort is under the control of their friends.”
“What about Varennikov?” Carlson asked. “He works out of the embassy and is clearly one of theirs.”
“We have nothing that proves his involvement,” Laney indicated. “We don’t even have pictures of him meeting the yacht. Because of Jake we know where this all leads, but that isn’t something we can use against them.”
“I doubt those in charge of our government would want that anyway,” Carlson said after a moment’s thought. “If we could prove this, they’d rather use the information behind the scenes to force certain concessions from Russia. How was this handled last time?” she asked Jake.
“I have no idea what our leaders might have done secretly. Varennikov slipped away, so there was little proof. He was seen briefly in Florida more than a week after everything was wrapped up. As far as I know, he wasn’t seen again after that.”
“However we pr
oceed, it will have to be handled carefully,” Laney said. “We let too many people know, or let the politicians raise the matter to the Russians, and it could all be triggered before we are ready.”
“I realize it puts you on the spot, but I suggest we don’t let this be known outside of the three of us just yet. We want this to go down in a controlled manner,” Jake said.
Carlson smiled wryly. “Of course you don’t know who I might have told last time. You only know the actions and directions I gave you.”
“That’s true,” Jake admitted.
“What about the East Wind?” Laney asked. “We know they went out there for something important. Especially with Varennikov on board.”
“We have a large team watching the yacht,” Carlson replied. “We expect them to make whatever move they have in mind today. Actually, I expected to see something develop last night, but I was wrong. All was quiet. It wouldn’t make sense to keep any contraband on board when they have that party planned for this evening. Maybe they believe they can mask the movement of whatever they picked up in the loading and unloading in preparation for the party. Fenner has indicated that those in the marina look forward to parties Widner hosts. Apparently they are quite the bash.”
Jake had almost forgotten about the party he’d been invited to. Fenner and the two female agents would have to deal with it. Jake had other things to occupy his attention and had no desire to drive all the way back to Newport News simply to put in an appearance.
“The team watching the Alexandria factory has reported daily activity. Thus far, counting both containers they had led us to and those that our people have located independently, we have disabled more than eighty of them. Unfortunately, that still falls well short of the number you said are being deployed.”
“Some will be put in place at the last minute,” Jake advised them. “Those devices close to the government buildings are too difficult to get inside the buildings, but they will want to saturate the area with the deadly toxins. For that they will deploy a mobile fleet of vehicles. They will be equipped with government plates, and look like official vehicles.”
