Black Flagged Vektor (4) Page 2

  The RF detector had passively collected data since their arrival twenty minutes earlier, twice detecting a short frequency burst at 910 MHz, which was one of the most common frequencies associated with the local GSM-900 cellular network. The short transmissions resembled what he’d expect to see when a cell phone registers to a local cell tower. At this point, he felt satisfied that neither the yard nor the house was protected by motion detectors. He stood up and signaled for the team to move forward, placing the detector in the pack before slipping it over his shoulders. He disengaged the safety on his PP2000 submachine gun and stepped into the backyard.

  Three of the four Spetsnaz operatives converged on the back door from different points in the yard, while the fourth slid along the right side of the house, looking for the power line connection. Mihail listened intently near one of the illuminated windows, but heard nothing beyond the distant hum of a car motor. He decided that they would try to pick the lock and deadbolt, instead of forcing the door open. He desperately wanted to avoid making noise in this neighborhood. If the house was unoccupied, he wanted time to inspect it for anything useful. While one of his operatives worked the locks with a small tool kit, he listened underneath a different window. The house was still. By the time he returned less than one minute later, the two locks had been opened.

  He lowered his PN21K night vision monocular into place over his right eye and spoke softly into the microphone attached to his headgear. Two seconds later, the house went dark. On cue with the sudden darkness, the lead member of his team shouldered the door with enough force to dislodge any chain lock barring their entrance. The door opened unhindered, and his team slipped inside. Mihail followed the second man through the door, scanning the darkness with his goggles. Once the two doorways leading out of the kitchen had been secured, he whispered orders for the team to go silent and listen. Roughly two minutes later, he raised his night vision goggles and ordered the fourth operative to return electrical power to the house.

  When the lights reenergized, they could plainly see what the rough green images cast by their night vision had indicated. The house had been cleared of everything, “sanitized” all the way down to the toilet paper rolls. He recalled the fourth member of his team to the house, and they spent the next five minutes checking closets, opening drawers and prying at wallpaper in a futile attempt to find anything. Each operative returned to the kitchen cradling his submachine gun and quickly shaking his head. Nothing. He opened his backpack and scanned the radio frequency detector. He found a strong reading at 1621 MHz, which had started a few minutes ago. This was an L-band frequency used for satellite communications. Someone knew they were here, and would very likely receive a video feed of their foray through the house.

  He signaled for the team to evacuate the structure and contacted the van once they were outside. On their way to the front of the house, he ordered the power to be permanently cut. Once the power line had been cut, he checked the RF detector again and saw that the device hidden in the house continued to transmit, indicating an independent power source. He thought he had committed an error restoring power while they were inside, but it wouldn’t have mattered. His big mistake tonight had been assuming that they might find anything useful in the CIA safe house. Now the CIA knew for certain that they hadn’t lost interest in Anatoly Reznikov.

  As they waited for the van in the shadows, Mihail pulled out his encrypted cell phone and placed a call to SVR headquarters. It was time to exercise the least desirable option on the table. As he had anticipated, their night had just begun.

  Chapter 3

  1:26 PM

  CIA Headquarters

  McLean, Virginia

  Karl Berg reviewed the last few slides from the PowerPoint presentation he would present to Thomas Manning. He had been awake much of the night putting together the first draft of his urgent appeal for the CIA to take action against Vektor Laboratory’s bioweapons department. With Reznikov’s inside information, they could send General Sanderson’s Russian Group to destroy the facility and eliminate key personnel involved in the program. Reznikov felt confident that a small, properly equipped, elite force could successfully execute the mission, given the right tactical intelligence, which he could provide.

  Audra Bauer had joined him for part of the morning, helping him to modify most of the slides he had hastily cobbled together. She had already spoken at length with Manning about the threat posed by Vektor Labs. Israeli intelligence assets had repeatedly warned them about the Iranians’ continued efforts to secure research positions within Vektor, despite Israel’s best efforts to dissuade Iranian scientists from studying abroad. Iranian scientists died from sudden natural causes at a startlingly higher rate than their counterparts in other nations. A scientific career in the fields of biology, chemistry, or physics currently ranked as one of the most hazardous occupations in Iran.

  The Israelis expressed little doubt that the Iranians intended to steal bioweapons samples from the lab or collaborate with Russian scientists associated with the program. Recent grumblings from Wiljam Minkowitz, their Mossad liaison, left Manning and Bauer with the distinct impression that Israel was no longer satisfied with the CIA’s backseat approach to curbing Iran’s unquenchable thirst for weapons of mass destruction. Manning had already dodged three meeting requests from the Mossad liaison since the president had appeared on national television to explain the domestic terrorist attack on the nation’s water supply. They all knew what Minkowitz would say: It’s time for the U.S. to step up to the plate and take care of the problem.

  Berg’s job today wouldn’t be to convince Manning of the necessity of targeting Vektor. Manning was already primed to take their efforts to the next level. Berg’s presentation was designed to convince Manning that they could win the director’s approval, which would ultimately impact their chances of winning over the president. Without the president’s approval, Berg would have to make some difficult choices. Drop the topic entirely, or take the operation “off the books.”

  He didn’t think an unsanctioned black op would be feasible in this situation. Novosibirsk was the third largest city in Russia, nearly two hundred miles beyond the Kazakhstan border. Getting Sanderson’s team to the target wasn’t the problem. Evading the massive military and police response from the Novosibirsk Oblast would be impossible without significant, targeted intervention.

  The feasibility of this operation depended upon White House support, which shouldn’t be entirely difficult to win given the fact that a weaponized virus from Vektor Labs had nearly decapitated the U.S. government.

  Berg’s STE (Secure Terminal Equipment) desk set rang, indicating a call from the operations watch center. He picked up the handset, which triggered the automatic negotiation of cryptographic protocols within the removable Fortezza Crypto Card inserted into his phone. Unique identifiers built into the card’s cryptographic processor verified that Karl Berg was on one end of the call and that the operations watch center was on the other. STE technology represented a major improvement over the STU-III system, where the cryptographic processor was built into the phone and provided no unique identification procedures. With the STE system, Karl Berg could insert his card into any STE phone and conduct a secure, encrypted conversation.

  “Karl Berg,” he answered.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Berg. I have a Flash Alert data package designated for your eyes only. How do you want me to proceed?”

  “You can send it through my secure feed. I don’t have time to review the package in the ops center,” Berg said.

  Berg knew where the package had originated, but he was dying to see the contents.

  “Understood. You now have access to the package.”

  “Thank you,” Berg said.

  He navigated to the CIA operations intranet gateway and entered a long string of passwords that enabled access to his secure feed. He quickly found the data package in question. A separate screen opened, showing eight data sets, all of which contained a hyperlink
. He opened the one showing the longest period of time, which ended three minutes ago in Sweden. “19:17.24GMT/13:17.24EST-19:23.53GMT/13:23.53EST.”

  The hyperlink activated a data recording captured by one of the motion-activated, night vision-capable cameras hidden in the Viggbyholm safe house’s fire detectors. Located on the ceiling of each room, the cameras provided a searchable three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view within each space. The recording showed a three-man team enter the kitchen from the door leading into the backyard and proceed to wait for two minutes. Each operative wore the latest generation Russian night vision monocles and carried the same type of submachine guns used by the Zaslon Spetsnaz team in Stockholm. Definitely not your garden-variety operatives. He guessed they were some variation of SVR Spetsnaz.

  After two minutes, the house lights came on, momentarily blinding the camera as the smart-sensor switched camera lens inputs. A fourth operative entered through the back door, and they proceeded to search the house. Berg toggled through the other hyperlinks, which showed the team conducting a quick, yet thorough investigation. He returned to the first link, which was still running, and almost missed the most important part of the data feed. The lead operative removed a small electronic device from his backpack and immediately ordered the team’s evacuation. Less than fifteen seconds later, the scene went dark, replaced by the green image of an empty kitchen. The team leader knew that their raid hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  Berg sat back in his chair and considered the situation. He hadn’t expected the Russians to forget about Reznikov. Given what the crazed scientist had told him over vodka shots and gourmet food, he was surprised that they hadn’t heard more from the Russians by now. Of course, Moscow was still buried under the staggering fallout left by Reznikov’s manmade disaster in Monchegorsk, compounded by Reznikov’s link to the terrorist plot in the United States. The Russians didn’t have a basis to object on any level. Everything led back to a program that supposedly didn’t exist.

  As predicted, the Russians would dig around quietly for Reznikov. But how long would their efforts remain below the surface? The Spetsnaz team in the video didn’t look like they would have passed up the opportunity to take down anyone found in the house. The big question was where would they go next? If Berg were pulling the strings, he’d start with the Stockholm embassy.

  Three members of the CIA station knew critical details about Petrovich’s operation. One of them was temporarily assigned to his staff while she awaited her next assignment, which took her out of play. This left the Stockholm embassy’s CIA station chief and her assistant station chief. The Russians wouldn’t dare touch the station chief, but if pressed, they might make a move on the station’s second-in-charge. This was the only move that made sense.

  Given the sensitivity of Reznikov’s circumstances, it would be reasonable for the Russians to assume that the details of the operation had been restricted to the most senior CIA officer at the station. In this case, neither the station chief nor her assistant knew the identity of the target, but this wasn’t something he could pass on to the Russians to dissuade them from taking regrettable action. All he could do was warn Emily Bradshaw that the Russians were actively prowling the streets of Stockholm. He opened a different internet directory and located the station chief’s after hours contact information.

  Chapter 4

  5:39 PM

  CIA Headquarters

  McLean, Virginia

  Thomas Manning cracked his knuckles and nodded at Berg, shifting his attention to Audra Bauer. Karl Berg put the projector in standby mode and exhaled, waiting for Manning to start.

  “I can sell this to the director. Do we have a confirmed link to the Iranians, beyond what the Israelis have hinted?” Manning asked.

  “Reznikov didn’t specifically mention any Iranians in the facility. He just said that he’d been approached on the outside by what he assumed were Iranian intelligence agents,” Berg said.

  “For all we know, those could have been Mossad agents testing the waters at Vektor. This wouldn’t be the first time we’ve mistaken Mossad operatives for Middle East terrorists,” Manning countered.

  “It’s always a possibility. I could run this by our liaison and see what our Israeli friends might be willing to confirm.”

  “If we’re willing to share the information provided by Reznikov with the Israelis, I’m sure Mr. Minkowitz would be amenable to steering us in the right direction,” Bauer said.

  “The director will never approve that,” Manning interjected. “Reznikov’s information stays with us for now. We’ll need to come up with a different angle to garner Israeli support.”

  “If we can convince them that we plan to take action against Vektor, they’ll pass information,” Berg said.

  “Let’s take this up the chain of command without trying to involve the Israelis. If the plan gets kicked back, we’ll take steps to solidify the Iranian connection,” Manning said.

  Berg’s phone buzzed, breaking his concentration. He’d set the phone to silent for this meeting, with the exception of high-priority calls from the operations center.

  “Late for dinner?” Manning said.

  “My apologies. It’s the operations center. This might have something to do with Stockholm,” he said, and Manning nodded for him to take the call.

  “Karl Berg,” he answered.

  “Mr. Berg, I have a priority, encrypted call from Stockholm. Source station confirms Emily Bradshaw originated the call.”

  “Stand by. I’ll call you right back from an encrypted terminal,” Berg said. “Call from the Stockholm station chief,” he said to Manning and Bauer.

  “Shit,” Bauer mumbled.

  He pulled his crypto card from his front pocket and inserted it into a slot on the front of the STE desk set next to Manning. After entering his PIN into the set, he dialed the operations center and the call was connected.

  “Is Ian in a secure location?” Berg asked.

  “We have a situation,” Bradshaw responded.

  “How bad?”

  “I tried to contact Ian via cell phone and landline immediately after your call, but he didn’t answer. I tried a few more times before heading out to his flat myself,” Bradshaw said.

  “You went out there alone?” he said.

  “What choice did I have? Send the police to investigate a CIA officer’s residence? Wake up one my officers and burn another CIA employee?” she said and paused. “I found his apartment door damaged and half of the apartment in disarray. He put up quite a struggle,” she said flatly.

  “Jesus. I’m sorry, Emily. I called you as soon as they hit the safe house.”

  “I know. They either had a second team on Ian, or they drove straight to his flat from the safe house. I was at his place within the hour. I should have gone straight over.”

  “Based on what I saw in the digital feed from the safe house, your presence might have complicated matters even further,” Berg said.

  He looked up at Manning and Bauer and shook his head.

  “Is there anything we can do?” Bradshaw said.

  “No. We can’t afford to let this spiral out of control, and I can’t imagine any scenario leading to Ian’s recovery. You’ll have to treat Ian’s disappearance like any other embassy employ—”

  “I understand what’s required,” she interrupted.

  Berg paused before speaking again. “I’m really sorry, Emily. This is a shitty situation made worse by the politics.”

  “How bad will it be for him?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?” Berg said.

  “You know exactly what I mean,” she hissed.

  “The worst,” he said.

  “I need to recall all of my people to the embassy. Frankly, I don’t trust your assessment that the rest of us are off limits. Let’s hope nobody else has disappeared.” She hung up.

  Berg removed his crypto card and looked up at Bauer and Manning, who appeared speechless.

  “Not good. Ian Reese d
isappeared. Bradshaw found signs of forcible entry and a struggle at his apartment. We can assume that the Russians will strip the information out of him in a short period of time,” Berg said.

  “Beyond Erin Foley’s involvement as a surveillance asset during the raid, he really doesn’t know anything,” Manning said.

  “Yes and no. In terms of raw data, both the station chief and Reese were kept in the dark. The only damning thing they could confirm is the timeline for the raid. He knew that our team arrived in Stockholm the day before and that the team didn’t learn the address until the next morning. They’ll connect the dots pretty quickly.”

  He had never divulged any information regarding Kaparov, nor would he ever betray that trust in any way. If Manning or Bauer knew Kaparov’s position, they would immediately try to leverage the Russian for information regarding Vektor. As director of the Bioweapons/Chemical Threat Assessment Division, Kaparov should have detailed information regarding the operations and physical security of Russia’s premier virology and biotechnology research center.

  Vektor, or the Vektor Institute, served as Russia’s equivalent to the U.S.’s Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and the U.S. Army’s Chemical Biological Defense Command. In fact, the World Health Organization recognized the Vektor Institute as one of the world’s premier virology research centers. Vektor and the CDC were the only WHO-authorized repositories of the smallpox virus, which indicated the significant level of trust and prestige bestowed on the institute.

  Like the CDC, other infectious diseases would be kept at Vektor for “research” purposes, representing a possible biological threat to Russia that would fall under Kaparov’s sphere of concern. When and if the time was right, he would ask his friend for help, but until then, Berg had no intention of exposing this secret.