The Ajax Protocol-7 (8 page)

Grigorev stopped in front of number 17. The door had been painted green, long ago. The paint was chipped and scarred. A narrow slot allowed the passage of food into the cell. A circular viewport covered with a movable shield let the jailer observe the prisoner.

Korov slid the metal covering aside and peered in. There was no window in the stone room. Light came from one dim bulb hung somewhere high above. The floor was of stone. In the far corner of the room a foul hole lined with dried excrement served as a toilet. A thin mattress marred by dark stains was laid on the floor. It was the only thing in the room except for the man lying on it.

The prisoner's hair was matted with blood. His arm rested at an odd angle where it lay across his chest. His mouth was open as his breath rasped in and out. The mouth was bloody. Several teeth were missing. His eyes were blackened, swollen and closed.

"What happened to him?" Korov said.

Grigorev shrugged. "He was unruly. We had to teach him the rules."

"Ah."

Korov concealed his distaste and reminded himself that this prisoner was a traitor.

"Open the door."

Grigorev placed an old fashioned key made of heavy metal into the lock and turned. The door swung open.

"Prisoner! Stand!" Grigorev shouted at the man.

The man's name was Litvenenko. He tried to raise himself on one arm and fell back against the mattress.

Grigorev moved toward him but Korov laid a hand on his arm.

"It's alright. I don't think he can stand up. I'll talk to him there."

"As you wish, Colonel."

Korov stepped into the cell. The prisoner had soiled himself. Korov held his finger under his nose as the stench of the man and the filth hit him.

Korov squatted down beside Litvenenko. "I am Colonel Korov. I am your only hope. Do you understand?"

Litvenenko opened an eye.

"Do you understand?" Korov said again.

"Da. Understand." The voice was hoarse, choked with phlegm.

"Good. I will only ask a question once. If you lie, I'll know it. If you lie, I'll leave you in the care of Sergeant Grigorev. Do you understand?"

Korov saw the fear in the man's eyes. He hated this, but it had to be done. He had to know who had bribed this man. Someone had given him that device. Someone had told him to place it exactly where it had been placed. Korov needed to know who it was.

"Yes, understand."

"You placed a package in the central bank."

"No, it wasn't me."

"No? Then why are you here?"

"I swear, it wasn't me. I gave the package to Yevchenko."

Korov looked at the Sergeant. "Why wasn't I told about this?"

"I don't know, Colonel. I was only told to bring you to the prisoner."

Korov turned back to Litvenenko. "Who is Yevchenko?"

"The janitor. He cleans up after everyone is gone."

Dimitri Yevchenko was on a list of people still missing after the riots. Korov had an almost photographic memory. He remembered seeing the name. The man was listed as an employee of the bank.

"Why did you have to give it to someone else? Why couldn't you place it yourself?"

"The manager, Kaminsky. He was always the last out. He always made everyone else leave before he locked up. Only Yevchenko could stay."

"Who gave you the package?"

"A man, I don't know, I swear. Just a man. He told me to give it to Yevchenko."

"What did he look like, this man?"

Litvenenko squinted through his swollen eyelids at Korov. "Like you. He looked like you."

"Swine," Grigorev said. "You are talking to an officer." He stepped forward and kicked the man in his ribs. Litvenenko screamed.

Korov raised his hand. "Enough, Sergeant. Wait outside. "

"Sir..."

"Wait outside."

Grigorev moved back to the door, scowling.

Korov said, "What do you mean, he looked like me?"

"Blond, like you, tall. Short hair, like a soldier. He paid me a hundred rubles. I was afraid, I thought maybe he was FSB. He said to give it to the janitor and tell him to leave it in Kaminsky's office after the bank closed. He said it was a surprise for Kaminsky and I shouldn't say anything about it because it would spoil the surprise."

Litvenenko coughed and spit blood onto the floor.

Korov shook his head at the man's stupidity and greed. "You didn't think that was a lot of money to give a package to a janitor?"

"I needed the money. Please, I didn't know. Please..."

He clawed at Arkady's sleeve. Korov pulled his arm back in disgust and stood. He thought about what the prisoner had said. It would be necessary to question him further, but Korov didn't think there was much more to be learned. The man was terrified, as he should be. Arkady had taken part in enough interrogations to know when someone was lying. Litvenenko was guilty of greed and poor judgement, but nothing more. He was an expendable part of someone's plan. Unfortunately for him, his greed would cost him his life. The Russian justice system was not noted for compassion and understanding.

Back outside the prison, Korov took a deep breath of the smog-filled Moscow air. A bus rumbled by, trailing black smoke and diesel fumes. After the stink of the cell it seemed like pure oxygen.

Time to report in. He wondered if his boss was going to share what he'd learned with the Americans.

Korov thought about the Americans, about Nick and Selena and the others. Especially Selena. He'd never met a woman like her. Women in combat roles were nothing new in Russia, but they didn't have Selena's combination of beauty, skills and courage. She even spoke Russian like a native.

Twice, now, he'd seen her in action under fire. Once in America, in Texas. Once here in the Motherland. He wondered if he was going to see her again.

He'd like that.

CHAPTER 18

It had been two days since the firefight in the hospital parking lot. Harker was briefing the team in the ops center below Harker's office. 

"You're sending us to Alaska?" Nick said.

"As soon as we plan out the mission," Harker said. "Lamont stays here. He's still on meds and recovering from his wound."

"Director..." Lamont said.

"You're not going."

Lamont settled back in his chair. He looked unhappy.

"What's our objective?" Nick asked.

"Are you familiar with SATWEP?"

"Isn't that the Army's secret satellite program? The one no one wants to talk about?"

"That's the one. The signal that triggered the riots in Novosibirsk came from a substation that's part of the program."

"Isn't the installation on an Army base near Fairbanks?" Ronnie said.

"The main facility is. The signal came from farther north, near the Arctic Circle."

"How certain are you that it came from there, Director?" Nick said.

"Completely certain."

"What are we looking for?"

"Anything that can help us figure out what's going on or who is behind it."

"That's pretty vague. Do we at least know where to look?" Nick asked.

"I can show you," Stephanie said.

Stephanie's laptop was linked into the Crays in the other room. She entered a series of keystrokes, humming to herself as her fingers danced across the keyboard. The Ops Center had a large wall monitor identical to the one in Elizabeth's office. The picture that appeared on screen was a satellite shot over the Alaskan wilderness. Steph zoomed in on a white dot in the middle of a forest. The dot became two low buildings, set next to each other and connected by a short passage. Nearby, rows of tall antenna towers were laid out in a grid.

There was no road to the site. The land around the facility consisted of old growth forest that had been cleared back about a hundred feet. There was a helipad and hangar.

"Way out in the boonies," Ronnie said.

"Out of sight, out of mind," Nick said. "I wonder what they're doing out there?"

"Probably playing talk radio for the grizzly bears," Lamont said.

"I don't think they'd do that," Ronnie said. "You don't want to piss off grizzly bears."

Harker rolled her eyes. "Steph, show the nearest town."

"That would be Circle. It's not just the nearest town, it's the only town." She brought it up on the monitor.

They studied the picture. A wide river snaked past a cluster of low buildings laid out on the river bank. West of the town was a single, straight airstrip. There were no planes or hangars, only a cracked strip of pavement. A narrow access road ran like a tee from the center of the strip to a cleared area that was probably a parking lot and then to the town. A highway entered the picture from the lower left corner and ended at the town. A single main street ran through the settlement.

From miles above the Earth's surface, Circle looked like a one horse town without the horse.

"Is that the Yukon River?" Ronnie asked.

"It is." Stephanie adjusted the picture. "The highway you see is Route 6, if you can call it a highway. Circle is literally the end of the road in Alaska."

"How many people live up there?" Selena asked.

"Around 80, year round. More in the summer, when they get a few tourists."

"Not much going on," Lamont said.

"The nearest big city is Fairbanks," Stephanie said. "It's about a hundred and fifty miles from Circle."

"We can fly to Fairbanks and drive to Circle from there," Nick said.

"That might not be so easy, " Ronnie said. "I've been to Fairbanks. That road going North is unpaved gravel and in rough shape. No one will risk renting a car to go to Circle. We'd have to hire someone to drive us."

"There's that airstrip. We could hire a plane in Fairbanks to take us to Circle and hike in from there," Nick said, "but it's days on foot over rough country to the objective."

"There's a helipad right on site," Selena said. "Why not use that?"

Ronnie shook his head. "If anyone's there, we'd be sitting ducks coming in."

"A chopper is a good idea, though. We could land somewhere nearby and hike the rest," Nick said. "Call for extraction when we're done and have the chopper pick us up."

"I can't requisition a helicopter without someone asking why," Elizabeth said.

"I know a guy who lives in Fairbanks," Ronnie said. "He flew choppers in RECON. Now he's got a charter service that takes hunters into the backcountry. We can trust him."

Elizabeth nodded. "Good, Ronnie. We'll use him."

"I'll call and have him meet us at the airport."

Elizabeth looked at Nick. "You have to be careful, Nick. Get in and get out. Don't get caught and please, don't blow anything up."

"Mm," Nick said.

CHAPTER 19

It was after midnight when Ronnie, Nick and Selena landed at the private terminal in Fairbanks. Ronnie's friend was waiting for them. Sam Newhouse was a wiry, short man who looked like he'd been carved out of beef jerky.

"Hey, Gunny. Long time. How they hanging?"

The two men hugged and clapped each other on the back.

"Sam, these are my friends. This is Nick and this is Selena."

"Pleasure," Newhouse said. They shook hands. He looked at Nick. "Afghanistan, right? Recon? I remember you from Bagram. I was flying the bird that pulled you out. You were hit pretty bad. Glad you made it."

He's in the market, ramshackle bins and ragged cloth walls. Clouds of flies swarm around the butcher’s stall. He hears a baby cry. The street is deserted.

The rooftops erupt with men firing AK-47s. The market stalls shatter in a firestorm of splinters and plaster and rock exploding from the sides of the buildings.

A child runs toward him, screaming about Allah. Nick hesitates, a second too long. The boy cocks his arm back and throws a grenade as Nick shoots him.

The child's head dissolves in a red fountain of blood and bone. The grenade drifts through the air in slow motion...everything goes white...

"Nick?" It was Selena. Newhouse was looking at him. Nick realized he'd been gone for a moment.

"Sorry, yeah, that's right. Bagram. You have a good memory. I never got a chance to thank you."

"No thanks needed. Follow me," Newhouse said.

He led them outside to the parking lot and a red Toyota Highlander spattered with mud. They stowed the bags with their gear and weapons and got in. Newhouse pulled out of the lot. Ronnie sat next to him in front.

Newhouse said, "You said on the phone you wanted to fly up past Circle. We have to wait for daylight. There's a motel near here that's clean. I figured you might want to rest up a little. The only had two rooms available. I hope that's okay." He turned onto the highway.

"Sounds good," Ronnie said.

"You want to fill me in? You don't look like you're going fishing and there's nothing up there except bears and black flies."

Nick had checked out Newhouse. He'd talked it over with Harker and they'd decided the pilot would need to know something about why they were in Alaska.

"There's something we want to take a look at," Nick said from the back seat. "It's a government installation. We don't exactly have permission to visit it."

Newhouse said nothing.

"I can't tell you everything but you need to know that we all work for the President."

"Rice? He's a good man, not like that jerk he picked for a VP. It's too bad he had that heart attack."

"Rice didn't have a heart attack," Nick said.

Newhouse looked at him, surprised. "What do you mean, he didn't have a heart attack?"

"Someone tried to poison him. We don't know who did it but this place we're going may have something to do with it. We need you to set us down about a day's hike away and then come get us when we call you. The whole thing needs to be kept quiet."

"You're spooks, aren't you?"

"No, we're not Agency."

Newhouse was quiet as he drove. Then he said, "I guess not, or you wouldn't need my bird."

"It's complicated," Ronnie said. "We need to stay below the radar. Literally."

"Like the old days," Newhouse said. "Hell, I thought I left all that behind over there."