Seconds to Midnight

by Philip Donlay

  No sooner had Lauren closed her eyes than a man wearing a suit opened the door.

  “Dr. McKenna. Come with me.” He spoke in perfect English.

  She followed him down the narrow hallway until they came to an elevator. It opened immediately, and they stepped inside. There were a series of buttons, but the man with her inserted a keycard instead of pressing a floor. An unmarked light illuminated, the doors closed, and Lauren felt the car descend. There was no real sensation of how far they’d gone down, but when the elevator opened, two armed soldiers stood on either side of a heavy steel door. Another swipe of a keycard and the door swung open. She walked into a control center not unlike the one where she worked at the Defense Intelligence Agency.

  She was surprised by how many people were on duty. She spotted a dozen men and women sitting at workstations, many using multiple monitors. There was a low murmur of hushed conversations. What words she heard were unintelligible. Several people glanced up at her before going back to what they were doing.

  “To your right, the first office,” her escort said.

  Lauren did as she was told, and when the door swung open, she found an older man sitting at a desk. Thinning gray hair was parted into a comb-over. His jacket hung on a coat rack and he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt that strained across his belly, the sleeves rolled to the elbows and a tie loosened at the neck. He removed his reading glasses and stood as the door behind her closed.

  “I’m Dr. Lauren McKenna,” Lauren said as she held out her hand in an effort to appear forthright and unafraid. Unexpectedly, the man stood and reached out and shook her hand.

  “I’m the senior diplomatic attaché on duty. You may call me Nikolai,” he said as he eased back down in his chair, leaving Lauren standing. “I know who you are, though I’m more familiar with your CIA code name, Pegasus. You’re nothing if not intelligent, but I have yet to figure out what exactly it is you think you’re doing. Start with what kind of drug you’ve given Dmitri.”

  “It’s classified,” Lauren said. “All I can tell you is it’s a prototype developed by Mossad.”

  “You’re an analyst with the DIA. You’re also highly placed within Eco-Watch, due to the fact that your husband is the Director of Operations. You seem to be at the center of a great many—let’s call them interesting events, shall we? Tonight you kidnapped a high-ranking member of the Russian government, drugged him, interrogated him, and then you personally deliver him back to our embassy, accompanied by an extremely dangerous man we know as Archangel. Have I missed anything?”

  “The woman, Sofya,” Lauren said. “You left her out of your summary.”

  “Where did you get the pictures of her? It appears she’s dead.”

  “Only unconscious. She’s alive and safe for the moment.”

  “Dmitri’s interrogation tape.” Nikolai interlaced his fingers and then stretched them as he spoke. “We know you’re there. Who is the other woman?”

  “Classified.”

  “Very well, let’s say for the moment I have a vague idea why you’re here. Why are you with Archangel?”

  “His name is Kristof, and he’s a friend of mine.”

  “He has no phone, no passport, no identification.”

  “Yet you still know who he is.” Lauren remembered her conversation with Kristof in the helicopter. “Are you sure he didn’t arrive with anything else? He told me he had something you wanted.”

  “The single piece of paper?”

  “With a number written on it?” Lauren asked.

  “Yes, and nearly illegible, I have no idea what it means.”

  “Well, he did write it while riding in the helicopter. The number is thirty million, and it’s the price in dollars for what it is you want.”

  “That’s preposterous,” Nikolai said through a forced laugh. “I could kill him and take what I want.”

  “That would be an ill-advised move,” Lauren said evenly. “You know he’s sick, right? He has a succession plan in place, has had for years. You’d gain nothing, and the new leader would seek revenge.”

  “A valid point,” Nikolai said. “What else compelled you to arrive on my roof?”

  “There was another interrogation earlier tonight. Tatiana Reznik spoke freely about the SVR, Sofya, and Dmitri. That tape is in the hands of someone who will release it to Moscow, as well as the world media if anything happens to Kristof or me. I can promise you won’t like what Tatiana had to say, and neither will Moscow. Nikolai, I’m not here to threaten you. I’m here to get you to listen, to help me figure out what is happening so we can work together to stop it.”

  “You have no leverage. You’re a fugitive. Interpol desperately wants to talk to you.”

  “We both know I didn’t have anything to do with the attack in Innsbruck. But there have been attacks in Minnesota, London, and Prague, carried out by Russians.” Lauren placed both hands on the desktop and leaned in toward Nikolai. “I don’t think you sent those men to kill my friends, but I do think you need to find out who did, and why. You also need to find out who wants Sofya dead. I’m assuming she’s one of yours?”

  “That’s classified.”

  “Thank you. At least we’re being honest. She’s SVR, same as you, and I have her.”

  “We demand her immediate release,” Nikolai said effortlessly. “She is a Russian citizen.”

  “Nikolai, please don’t start posturing. I think there’s something about to happen somewhere in the world that will do harm to both of our countries. We found Sofya on a frozen lake in the Arctic, and the moment we asked Interpol to help in identifying her, people started dying. Dmitri used the word ‘war’. That’s why I’m here. Our governments, our countries, are not at war, but I think someone else might want us to be.”

  “What if our countries are at war?” Nikolai said, as he put his hands on his desk and stood to face Lauren.

  “If I thought that were even remotely true, I wouldn’t have come here,” Lauren said without blinking. “The second I think it is true, I’ll come across this desk and kill you before your men can stop me.”

  Nikolai’s eyes flared in surprise and then he stared at her, as if assessing the chances that she might be capable of her threat. Then a smile came to his fleshy face. “I’ve heard the stories. You and your husband have done much for our country. The business last year in Slovakia, I was involved in that operation. You and your group of friends were impressive, though I never believed the entire story. After meeting you today, I’m far more apt to believe what I’ve heard.”

  “I’m done with the CIA. I’m really more of a stay-at-home mom these days,” Lauren said as she backed off, and smiled sweetly to hide the fact that she had no clue how to kill anyone barehanded. “If you know about Slovakia, you know a small group of people risked everything to avert what would have been a disaster. Is it asking too much for your help in return?”

  “We both know the risks of dealing in maybes and innuendo. Both of our governments get dozens of threats every day. Sometimes we even threaten ourselves so we can display our readiness to those who might be watching. It’s a bit insane, I know, but it’s how the system of checks and balances works. You brought me a rambling interview, given by a drugged, or perhaps just a drunken, old man. One who is clearly under duress.”

  “I’m well aware of what I delivered, which is exactly why I’m here. The drugs we gave him should last at least another hour.” Lauren watched as Nikolai’s eyes narrowed as he processed the implications. “Make it count.”

  Nikolai reached for the phone, waited for someone to answer, and began speaking in Russian. The conversation was entirely onesided and after a minute, he hung up and leaned back. “What can I do to make you more comfortable? This may take some time.”

  “I want to see Kristof. He needs a doctor. It would be tragic if he passed away while enjoying your hospitality.”

  Nikolai was about to reply when his phone rang. He swept it to his ear, listened, and then grunted something in Rus
sian.

  “Follow me,” Nikolai said as he hurried Lauren out of the room.

  She followed him around the open-sided corridor that bordered the operations center. Maybe it was just her imagination, but there seemed to be more activity than before. When Nikolai opened a heavy door, Lauren passed into a semi-darkened space. She understood that the only light came from a window that was one-way glass. Kristof and Dmitri were seated at a table in the room under observation. Another man, someone much younger, faced them.

  Lauren realized she and Nikolai weren’t alone. Two other men stood off to one side, watching. One wore a crisp military uniform, the other was a civilian who appeared somewhat unkempt, unshaven, with a yet-to-be-knotted tie looped around his neck.

  “Dr. McKenna, there will be no introductions,” Nikolai said quietly. “Everyone is well aware of who you are, and would prefer to remain unknown to you.”

  “What’s going on?” Lauren asked. “Why is Kristof being interviewed with Dmitri?”

  “It was Kristof’s idea,” the unkempt man said as he flipped up his collar and began tying his tie. “The man conducting the interview is asking a set of questions that Kristof devised. Kristof’s deception has convinced Dmitri that they are both prisoners, and Kristof is selling Dmitri out for leniency.”

  “What have you learned so far?” Nikolai asked. “And why did you send for us?”

  “We already know that Kristof sold several shipments of AK-47s to Dmitri, along with a large consignment of ammunition. Dmitri then asked that the contraband be smuggled to Moscow.”

  “Where the AK-47s were probably stolen from in the first place,” Nikolai said.

  “That’s the thing—Kristof is giving us an inside look into his operation. Archangel’s empire is far more complex and far-reaching than we ever anticipated.”

  Lauren smiled to herself in the darkness. Kristof was breaking Dmitri, as well as marketing his business at the same time. “Where in Moscow did Kristof smuggle the guns? I mean, why would Dmitri buy guns he already has access to?”

  “Just listen.”

  “Kristof,” the interrogator asked. “Where did your organization deliver these guns?”

  “I’ll tell you,” Kristof said. “And when I do, you’ll understand that my friend Dmitri thought he was doing the right thing.”

  “Explain,” the interrogator said, as if growing irritated.

  “Dmitri told me that the order came from a senior officer within the SVR,” Kristof continued. “I assumed it was yet another ill-conceived attempt by the SVR to buy guns from me and then track my sources. Prepared for this, my people subcontracted with locals, and then watched as the guns were ultimately delivered to a hangar at the Vnukovo airport, and not the SVR.”

  “Wait, what? That’s not where I was instructed to send the weapons,” Dmitri sputtered.

  Lauren turned to Nikolai. “Where did Sofya leave Moscow from?”

  “We suspect Vnukovo airport, from one of the private jet terminals.”

  “Dmitri,” Kristof said. “We still have time to get out of Berlin, but you have to tell them what you told me earlier, about the coming war. We’ll make our deal and get out before it’s too late.”

  “What war?” the interrogator asked, his voice even and calm.

  “Gregori Petrov’s war,” Dmitri said. “I think he’s been buying weapons to start a war.”

  “The AK-47s are hardly enough to start a war,” Kristof said. “What else have you tried to locate for him?”

  “Tell me and I will suggest amnesty instead of charging you with treason and conspiracy,” the interrogator said hungrily. “Better to live out your days on a pension, than be hung as a traitor.”

  “Months ago he started looking for a nuclear weapon, and then, just as quickly, he stopped asking,” Dmitri said. “I received word that he’d found one.”

  “And he’s going to detonate it today?” Kristof asked. “How would you know that?”

  “There were whispers. I was warned to avoid any large city today, so we need to go.”

  “Do you at least have a target, a time, or a delivery system?” Kristof asked.

  “No, only that Gregori wanted the spectacle to be in the daylight. He wanted people to see what had happened.”

  “The airplane in Canada,” Lauren said as she spun to face Nikolai. “Is it carrying a nuclear weapon? Did Sofya bring it down because she knew?”

  “I don’t know,” Nikolai said. He turned to the men in the room. “Find out the whereabouts of Gregori Petrov, as well as all of his family members. I also want the locations of all of Dmitri’s known acquaintances.”

  “Can you help me locate my husband?” Lauren asked. “I need to know if he’s still in Canada. He’s traveling in an Eco-Watch Gulfstream.”

  “This way,” Nikolai said. “Anything that involves a satellite or cell phone has been severely affected by the storm, but I think the landline links will get us what we want.”

  Lauren fell in beside Nikolai as he escorted her through a door and into the operations center. They went straight to an empty workstation where he typed in a password and waited. Lauren noticed the large monitors were from the same high-quality manufacturer preferred by the DIA. A search page finally materialized, and Nikolai typed in more commands until an outline of Canada filled the screen.

  “What’s his call sign?”

  “Eco-Watch zero one,” Lauren said, and moments after Nikolai entered the data, a page for the Galileo appeared. As English was the international language used by the aviation industry, she could read what was on the screen.

  “There we are—Eco-Watch zero one left Churchill earlier today.”

  “That’s them.” Lauren felt an enormous wave of relief as she seized on the fact that they weren’t in Canada. “Where are they now?”

  “The flight plan is to Edinburgh, Scotland.” Nikolai scrolled eastward until the icon of the Galileo illuminated on the big screen. “They’re here, flying over Greenland.”

  Lauren could see the small white aircraft icon, and when Nikolai placed the mouse pointer over the airplane, an abbreviated data block appeared. The information for the Galileo showed their origin and destination, and that they were flying at thirty-nine-thousand feet. Lauren couldn’t help but notice that in the broad expanse of sky depicted, there were only two other aircraft icons. “What’s this airplane here?”

  Nikolai swung his pointer up and tagged the target. “It’s a Gulfstream, en route from Luton, England, to Keflavik, Iceland. The registration number is G-CGEL.”

  Lauren recognized the registration as the chartered Gulfstream on standby for Abigail, Stephanie, and Reggie. “How long until they land?”

  “They’re scheduled to arrive in forty-five minutes. Why?”

  “This other aircraft up here to the northeast.” Lauren pointed. “Who’s that?”

  “Hmm,” Nikolai said as he studied the data block. “It’s tagged as a Russian Federation Tupolev 214. It’s using a call sign that marks it as a diplomatic flight.”

  “Landing at Keflavik?”

  “Yes,” Nikolai said as his eyes narrowed. “In one hour.”

  Lauren put a hand over her mouth and nose as if to suppress a cry for help as all of the possibilities seemed to hit her at once. She stepped back from the screen and turned to Nikolai. “I think there’s a diplomatic summit taking place in Iceland. American Ambassador William VanGelder is already on the ground, waiting. Nikolai, what if there is a delegation of diplomats in Iceland, and there’s a bomb aboard the Tupolev?”

  Nikolai’s eyes flared and he set his jaw. Instantly, he began to speak in Russian to the analysts in the room. He seemed to assign a specific task to each and receive a short reply in return. As Lauren watched the process, she saw the determined expression on Nikolai’s face turn to one of frustration.

  “What is it?” Lauren asked. “Tell me what’s happening.”

  “I’m told the entire island of Iceland is experiencing a complete bl
ackout due to the storm. We’re unable to contact anyone on the ground there. We have no clear picture of what is happening.”

  “As a precaution, call air traffic control, have them turn the Tupolev around,” Lauren said. “Petrov wouldn’t detonate a bomb in Moscow.”

  “We don’t know that there is a bomb, and if there is, we have no way to know how it might be detonated. An altitude sensor, a switch connected to the landing gear, it could be anything.”

  “Call the crew, have them search the plane,” Lauren said.

  “With the storm there is no HF or satellite communication. We can’t talk to anyone, warn anyone. As it stands, we’re powerless.”

  “Call the British,” Lauren said, knowing she was clutching at empty ideas. “Have them scramble fighters and shoot the damn thing down! Don’t let Petrov start a nuclear war.”

  “Royal Air Force jets intercepting and downing a Russian diplomatic flight would do exactly what you’re trying to avoid,” Nikolai said. “I feel like Petrov has used the storm to his advantage, and played this perfectly. Whatever is going to happen, we’re powerless to stop it.”

  Lauren felt nauseous; she pressed her fingers to her temples and started to pace. She thought of the DIA, but even if she could reach Calvin, he would face the same obstacles that the Russians did. There were probably trunk cables on the ocean floor that ran from Iceland to Europe, but without any power they were ultimately useless. At some point, there needed to be electricity. She mentally raced through every form of known communication that could reach Iceland. She sensed the tiny spark of an idea, paused, and then slowly turned to look up at the oversized monitor. The icon that was the Galileo was pushing eastward and Lauren’s eyes flared wide as she put it all together. She estimated the distances involved, quickly did the math, and then turned toward Nikolai.

  “Dr. McKenna?” Nikolai must have sensed the shift in her mood.

  “Nikolai, please tell me you have a submarine close enough to make direct radio contact with the Eco-Watch Gulfstream.”