The Prague Plot: The Cold War Meets the Jihad (Jeannine Ryan Series Book 3) (24 page)

Peter Zeleny left the Pennsylvania Turnpike. At the entrance to the Ohio Turnpike, he hit the button for his ticket. His passenger, Anne Simek, was asleep. Her face was worry-free. The Currituck County Sheriff had approved her leaving North Carolina.

The road sign indicated a rest stop, one mile ahead.

They still had to cross Ohio and Indiana to reach Chicago, and he needed a cup of coffee. He could not risk falling asleep and crashing with this wonderful woman next to him.

Peter was smitten. He loved Anne. One obstacle remained.

Anne’s father, Havel, lived with her in their home in Chicago. What would he think?

The morning was unseasonably warm in northern Virginia. Michal Pacak had agreed to share what he knew with the CIA. Thus Bill Hamm had chosen a secure location away from the safe house so that Michal could attend. Bill, Tom Fletcher, and the former agent Jim Harrigan, sat on one side of the table across from Ivana, Michal and Elena.

Elena Krkova leaned slightly in front of Michal, as if to protect him should the questions become harsh.

Bill spoke.

“Ivana, Michal, this is an informal debriefing, and I stress the ‘informal,’ to see if the two of you can ‘brainstorm’ together to give us some answers concerning the task force’s plans for Novichok-H, in the U. S. or anywhere. Michal why don’t you start. What were you told to do?”

Michal leaned forward. Elena put her hand on his arm.

“My orders were two-fold. I was to test the condition of the two Novichok-H precursors to see if there had been deterioration due to storage, contamination from the containers,
etc.
I should say right away that there was almost no deterioration in the chemicals, and no detectable changes or contamination from the containers. The supply is intact and potent.”

Michal added.

“And I had samples from every lot of the main stash.”

Jim Harrigan broke in.

“What were the sizes of your samples? And how did you test them?”

“I had a liter of each precursor from about fifty lots, over time about 100 liters in total. I tested each lot separately. I devised a container with two one liter compartments. An external lever had two positions. At the first stop, the interior partition collapsed and the precursors mixed to produce the Novichok Agent. Depressing the lever further, opened a pressure valve that, fully charged, could release a jet spray, for maybe thirty yards.”

Tom Fletcher erupted.

“How the hell could you work on something like this?”

Elena jumped in.

“Let him finish.”

Michal looked down at the table. His voice was low.

“They told me it was for a war in Africa. It would only be used to deter the other side from using theirs.”

After a moment, he continued.

“Anyway, the two-stage lever was not really needed. The precursors mixed and combined rapidly so that the nerve agent formed as the pressure valve opened. You could triple the size and still have adequate mixing without stirrers.”

Jim Harrigan spoke.

“How heavy was your unit?”

“Even triple the size, a teen ager could handle it, but it would be easier for an adult.”

“What else?”

“I also worked on a container suitable for a 500 pound bomb, like the Mark 82. There the mixing was slower. I devised a system with internal magnetic stirrers. It would have worked too, but I was told to stop. And then that guy Hrubec arrived. You know the rest.”

Michal looked sideways at Elena. Bill Hamm took over.

“Two more questions. Is the main stock stored at or near your Maryland plant, and would your two-liter system work for a homicide-bomber.”

“A suicide attacker could use it with the right concealment, and no, the stock was not at the plant. For safety, the precursors were stored in two separate locations. Sometimes the samples took several days to arrive, but I think both locations are here on the East Coast.”

Jim and Bill looked at each other. Their thoughts were the same.

It’s here. God, help us!

Throughout Michal’s questioning, Ivana had maintained her silence, only nodding to herself to affirm statements that she knew to be true. Now she broke her silence.

“Michal’s correct. The main stock was never at the Maryland plant. I know that it was never stored there.”

Bill turned towards her.

“How are you sure?”

“From Karel’s records. They were in my backpack. The one they took near the airport.”

“If not at the Maryland plant, then where is the main stock?”

“I know that the precursors are at two different locations. I can confirm what Michal said, that they are in the U. S. and if I had to guess, I’d say Virginia. All I am sure of is that Karel always referred to the locations as ‘Area 1’ and ‘Area 2,’ and that the U. S. is the target. If the agent is in Virginia, I would guess the target is on the East Coast. But that’s still a guess.”

Bill frowned.

“That’s not too much to go on. Ivana, you heard Michal. What do you know about delivery systems?”

“Michal’s Maryland plant was more of a research plant. Their work was primarily to verify that the chemicals had not deteriorated in storage. Michal just confirmed that they had not. He did that with a two-liter container. Apparently he went beyond that and devised a corresponding delivery system. That was a neat feat of engineering, but it’s not the whole story.”

“Why not?”

“Because the main task of the Maryland plant was always the chemistry and small units. Most of the engineering was done in Brno. My understanding from Karel’s records is that delivery systems larger than a 500-pound bomb are developed and ready.”

Michal interrupted.

“Larger than the Mark 82? More than 320 liters?”

“Yes. Karel had specs for much larger tanks. They are already tested. There were special nozzles and internal magnets for stirring to speed up the mixing reaction.”

Bill Hamm took over.

“Ivana, no aircraft is going to get near the Capitol or the White House to drop any 500-pound bomb or larger on them.”

Ivana frowned.

“I didn’t say it was a bomb. The specs were for a large stationary tank fitted with special nozzles. That’s all I know. I’m not sure how they could distribute the gas from it.”

“Like on the back of truck, sprayed from a truck?”

“Maybe the tank could be pressurized, so there could be a spray. I don’t know. I did see that there was no explosive included.”

Bill’s thoughts were far from pleasant.

First, a legion of suicide attackers with spray tanks, and now large tanks under pressure but no explosives. They want to kill thousands, but how? And where?

But damn it, there’s no time. The delivery systems are ready!

Around the room everyone was silent.

Jeannine Ryan and Aileen Harris were once again at their temporary office and refuge, the Best Western Hotel in Rockville Maryland.

Jeannine looked up from her laptop.

“Aileen, I’m going nuts. I can’t stand inactivity. I have to search through Vaclav’s files again. What am I missing.”

“Maybe it’s a ‘Who’ you miss. Why hasn’t Bill come to see you?”

“You know he’s guarding that informant for the CIA.”

“Informant? You mean Ivana. Isn’t Donald Trump’s ex named ‘Ivana’? Wasn’t she a model?”

Aileen raised her eyebrows and continued.

“‘Ivana,’ such a mysterious exotic name, ‘Ivana!’”

Jeannine frowned.

“That’s enough, Aileen. Yes, I want to see Bill, but you know we aren’t married. We don’t have a real commitment to each other.”

“You could fool me. I think you do. And if Bill ... Oh well it’s your life.”

Jeannine looked away. She tapped furiously on her keyboard.

Aileen stared out the window at the parking area below. Her face brightened to see a familiar car drive into the lot.

“My mother’s here with Mary Catherine. I’m going for a ride with my daughter. See you in a while.”

Jeannine heard the door slam behind her.

Karel Moravec stared out the window of Fiala’s (formerly Ivana’s) apartment. Fragile white flakes floated by the window only to melt and disappear on the lamp-lit street below.

He was in a reflective mood. The news from North America irritated him, but overall the plan was moving forward. He had no complaints there.

Hamm, Ryan, Zeleny and Simek, and even Ivana were disgusting gnats who got into his eyes and buzzed his ears. His men had swatted them but the creatures had evaded the blows. They were major irritants!

But soon it would be too late for them to affect the project. Nonetheless, their luck in evading his blows astounded him.

The phone in the pocket of his robe vibrated. Karel answered.

“What is it, Erik?”

“Chief, we have finished half the big tanks.”

This was not one of Karel’s enforcers, but a trained engineer and a skilled manager. Erik Holub was older than Michal Pacak, but like him, was a graduate of the Technical University of Brno. Erik ran a small company that produced fire-control systems.

“Good, Good. Is there any sign of Hamm or Harrigan?”

“No. No one knows us in Warrenton. Virginia is not on their radar.”

“Keep it that way. I told Hrubec to manage your security. Is he there yet?”

“Tomorrow. He was busy sanitizing the Maryland plant. It’s clean. There’s nothing to find there now. Maybe some pesticide by-products. Nothing else.”

Karel hung up.

Outside, white flakes began to stick to the streets of the old city.

His eyes drifted to Fiala’s sleeping form. He climbed back into bed.

Jeannine’s eyes ached. She had been staring at her screen for hours.

Aileen had not returned. Jeannine was alone. She stood and stretched her arms, and gazed out. To the west, the sky shone violet as a red sun flirted with the horizon.

She sighed. The phone on the stand buzzed. Jeannine picked up.

“Ms. Ryan, this is the front desk. A Mr. Harrigan is asking for you. May I give him your room number?”

“Please do, and send him up.”

Jeannine drew back the chain and waited by the open door. Jim approached from down the long hallway.

“Jim, where is Bill?”

“He’s at a safe house with his informant. He’s not free to leave. You know that.”

“And you?”

“I’m no longer active with the Agency. I can go where I please.”

“So why are you here?

“Bill told me to fill you in on the latest findings. Can I come in?”

“Oh, sorry. Of course. Looks like you’ve had a long day. Would you like a beer?”

She did not wait for an answer but went to a small fridge and popped two bottles. She handed one to him. He took a swallow and sat. He told her about Michal Pacak and Elena and that the stock of nerve agent was as potent as ever. He added their thoughts about the delivery of Novichok-H using small tanks for suicide attackers, as well as with large tanks by means as yet unknown. He did not mention Ivana.

After a while Jim’s speech slowed. He was exhausted. Jeannine pointed to a well-stuffed chair.

“Jim, why don’t you sit there and shut your eyes. A nap would do you good. Afterwards I could make coffee.”

“Thanks, maybe I will grab some sleep before I go back to the safe house. I’ll skip the coffee.”

He fell into the chair. His eyes shut, but reopened immediately.

“Wake me up in an hour.

“I will and when you get back to the safe house, tell Bill we need to talk.”

“Will do. He misses you.”

Jeannine frowned.
Sure!

Jim’s eyes closed. In minutes he was fast asleep.

She went to her laptop.

Vaclav, I know you hid more information on this drive. Where is it?”

She flipped the hair off her forehead while her fingers rapidly drummed the keyboard.

Jim Harrigan was long gone when Aileen returned to the Best Western.

Jeannine was asleep, slumped at her computer. At the sound of the door closing, she looked up.

“Aileen, where have you been. It must be the middle of the night.”

“I put Mary Catherine to bed, but I fell asleep next to her. She needs a mother. But what about you. Why are you still up?”

“Jim Harrigan was here. The CIA knew about Hus-Kinetika’s Maryland facility, the one that you Googled. They had an agent, Elena Krkova, planted there. Hus-Kinetika security found out, and she barely escaped with the help of a chemist, Michal Pacak. It was a close call. Elena’s at the safe house now, with Bill and that Czech woman.”

Aileen bit her tongue at the reference to “Ivana.” Jeannine continued.

“It looks like the main stock of Novichok-H is somewhere in Virginia, and Jim thinks there are two plans for distributing the gas. One is by suicide attackers with converted twin breathing tanks, one for each precursor. Without a mask, the sprayer has a minute or two to aim the spray before dying, but the nozzle will lock open. With a mask, he could continue to spray until the tanks are empty.”

Jeannine paused to take a breath.

“The other way is more puzzling. Large tanks that might fit in the back of a pickup truck. Trouble is, best info is that the tank is without explosives. The tanks might be pressurized for delivery.”

“That’s interesting, but I know you, Jeannine. You’ve found something beyond what Jim said. Tell me.”

“You’re right. I did find something.”

“Well?”

“I think I know how the plotters will use the large tanks.”

“Jeannine, stop teasing. Tell me.”

“OK, Hus-Kinetika’s home office in Prague required delivery invoices for a certain kind of shipment to list a contact phone number in the U. S. Vaclav made a list of phone numbers from those deliveries for the last two years.”

“Why would he do that?”

“That was my question too. Why the last two years? I made a graph of the activity by area code, comparing the previous year with the current one. Look.”

Jeannine handed a printout to Aileen. On it was a bar graph.

“Look, at the graph. This year, four area codes have more than 100 deliveries of this type of materiel from Prague, including Area code 443. I checked the phone numbers with that area code. The numbers are for that Maryland plant you found on the internet, the one where Michal Pacak worked. It has a 200% increase in deliveries over the previous year. And we know the conspirators were using that plant.”

Jeannine kept on.

“Next I wanted to know what facilities Hus-Kinetika had in these four area codes, so I went on the internet. I found this.”

She handed Aileen a second paper. It had a table printed on it. Aileen looked quickly and spoke.

“So the two largest percentage increases for the current year are for Aberdeen, Maryland, Michal’s plant, and for Warrenton Virginia.”

“Right, but the Warrenton code is not associated with a Hus-Kinetika facility, yet it has a huge increase, almost 500%, in deliveries. So I did reverse searches on the numbers. The Warrenton phone numbers are for a small manufacturer and supplier of fire prevention equipment. They produce and distribute SCBA’s, self-contained breathing apparatus’, as well as fire extinguishers.”

Aileen gasped.

“Such as could be modified for suicidal fanatics with nerve gas!”

“Yes, and that’s not all, the company makes and installs fire prevention sprinkler systems. And in some cases where the water pressure is less, they install large backup tanks to maintain the pressure in case the supply lines fail.”

“So that’s their plan. Start a fire and then spray nerve gas from the large tanks through the ceiling sprinklers.”

“I think so, but Aileen, do you think the nerve agent would be soluble in water, if it’s water pressure that drives it through the pipes?”

“That’s hard to say. Organophosphates are all over the map when it comes to solubility in water, as well as fat-solubility. The fat-soluble ones have a delayed toxic effect because the agent is first absorbed in human fat and then released slowly.”

Aileen paused.

“The real question is how well does Novichok-H
mix
with water. Let me use your laptop.”

Aileen Googled several key words. She looked up from the screen.

“Here’s an organophosphate pesticide,
Phosphamidon
that is completely miscible with water at 20 degrees Celsius, that’s 78 degrees Fahrenheit. If Novichok-H mixes nearly that well, there should be no problem getting it through the water pipes.”

“Then this could be their way of distributing the nerve gas.”

“Jeannine, you have to call Bill, now!”

Jeannine looked through the window blinds. The sky to the east was light. Sun rise was near.

She reached for her cell phone.

The large warehouse, located some miles off of Lee Highway near Warrenton, Virginia, was filled with activity. At the loading dock, Erik Holub watched his men load the 18-wheeler under the spot lights.

Erik pulled his jacket tight around him. The lights were bright but the air was cold. Still he was pleased.

The destination of this shipment was well-concealed. It had a falsified paper trail. And after this only one more shipment of mixing tanks needed to be “fixed.”

Erik sighed. This task was almost completed.

The village of Dethorens, Virginia is a “populated place” designated as Code U6 by the U. S. Census Bureau. Some distance away, the similarly designated village of Delaplane is located. Both entities are known for expensive estates and fox hunting.