T
he figure remained on the screen, a hand to his ear, frozen in time talking into a cell phone. Pike looked at the image, then at Aaron.
“You know him? Who is he?”
Aaron leaned in close, studying the face. When he turned back, he said, “I believe that man is Yuri Gorshenko, code name Jarilo. Works for the Russian FSB.”
Pike said, “How do you know?”
“It’s my business to know. He’s the leader of the Berlin group, a team of Russian Special Forces that target Chechen insurgents. He’s killed them all over the world. Last year, he took an interest in supporting a Palestinian we had under watch. Nothing ever happened between them that we could prove, but we kept our eyes on the group because of it.”
“The FSB operates externally? I thought they were like our FBI?”
Aaron said, “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously.”
“I guess that answers the question of whether you’re CIA. The FSB is the Russian security apparatus that took over from the KGB. They started out like your FBI, but they’re much, much more like the old KGB now. If you were a spook, you’d know that.”
“Like I told Shoshana, I’m not in that racket. I deal in substate terrorist threats. I don’t follow state security organizations unless it has to do with terrorism directed at the United States, so my knowledge is limited to what you would expect. You and the Mossad, Iranian IRGC, Saudi Arabian Mukhabarat, that sort of thing.”
Aaron said, “They weren’t on my radar either, until they started connecting with Palestinian terrorists. The FSB has grown deadly, with no moral restraints and a lot of organized criminal connections. Their roots run deep through the government as well. It’s run by Vladimir Malikov—known as Vlad the Impaler—an old KGB hand who thinks Stalin was soft.”
Staring past Aaron, thinking, Pike nodded his head. “That name rings a bell, but I have no idea why. It’ll come to me.” He focused back on Aaron. “Okay, so this Berlin group is somehow involved with my Boko Haram guy. They’re protecting him, which means they’ve got a plan in motion and it’s not about selling counterfeit Amway products. They’re going to attack someone.”
Aaron said, “Perhaps.”
“So you should want to help me here. Help me stop them.”
“No. I should not. This isn’t my fight. I have other priorities. Anyway, whatever plan they had in motion was destroyed by Daniel and Shoshana. There will be no attack.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Why do you know so much about this Vlad guy?”
“Because we do not trust him. He’s linked to terrorist events.”
“Precisely. So you should want to help me get rid of the Berlin group, beyond killing the Syrian. You stopped the symptom, but I’m talking about halting the disease.”
“Why are you asking for my help? You’re the mighty United States.”
“Yeah, well, even that’s not enough sometimes. You’ve already done the work. You could give me a lead to Yuri right now, if you wanted. Couldn’t you?”
Aaron said nothing for a moment, considering. Then: “As a matter of fact, Vlad the Impaler is here, in Istanbul right now. He doesn’t know we know because he thinks he’s clever, but we track him fairly closely.”
Pike considered that. “Your point is, it’s not a coincidence he’s here? He’s got something to do with the meeting you broke up?”
“I’m not saying anything. Maybe he’s just here for the food and the women. He’s meeting someone tomorrow at a restaurant that’s about a quarter of a mile from the Russian consulate. He never strays far from there when he’s in town. I can give you the specifics of the meeting, but that’s it.”
“How do you know that?”
Aaron smiled. “Your NSA is powerful, but not the only agency in the world with collection capability. We can do a thing or two ourselves. We intercepted an e-mail about the same time you were interrogating Shoshana.”
“Can you get me the selectors? Get me something to track on my own? The e-mail address? Phone number, ISP, anything?”
“No. No way. I give that to you and it’ll be compromised within twenty-four hours. The United States isn’t the best at keeping secrets, and we’d lose our ability to monitor him.”
“Does he travel with a smartphone, or some Soviet-era brick cell phone? Do they even have smartphones in Russia? At least tell me that.”
“Yes. He has a smartphone. And yes, it accesses the Internet, although it’s encrypted.” He pursed his lips as if to stop something from coming out, then reconsidered. “It’s a Russian country code. That’s all I’ll tell you.”
“Thanks,” Pike said. “Will your people be on him tomorrow?”
“No, like I said, I have other priorities. Electronic monitoring is good enough to keep tabs on him.”
Aaron heard a muted vibration. Pike removed his phone, said hello, and exited the bedroom.
Daniel said, “Why are you helping him?”
Aaron put a finger to his lips, then one to his ear, wanting to hear the conversation. It wasn’t much.
“When did we get it?”
“Did you tell him you needed help? That we need three?”
“Okay. Retro’s fine. Cut Shoshana free and get out of there. I’ll call you in a minute with a location.”
By the time he reentered, Daniel had prepared a disposable flash drive with the intelligence from the meeting and the videos.
Pike said, “Looks like you’re not the only one with other commitments.”
Daniel handed him the drive and Pike said, “Shoshana is free. She’ll be back shortly.”
Aaron said, “Good. I appreciate working with a man who keeps his word. A fight between us would have been messy.”
“What would it take to get you to keep working with me? I’m not going to let this go, but my boss has other priorities.”
“A vital interest to Israel. Something that would cause my people to sit up and notice. Like the Syrian did. Sorry, your man getting killed isn’t vital.”
“You have a way I can contact you? I mean that you don’t mind me having?”
Aaron laughed. “No. I don’t need the NSA up my ass.”
Pike said, “Come on. Make one right here. An e-mail account. You can burn it in a week, and I’ll be the only one using it.”
Aaron agreed, and in seconds he’d created a Gmail account and passed it to Pike. “Now your NSA can keep tabs on both of us.”
Pike smiled, held up the flash drive, and began walking to the door. “Thanks for this. Sorry I ripped Shoshana off the bike.”
After he’d gone, Daniel said, “What was that all about?”
“Getting Shoshana home.”
“Why’d you help him?”
“Because that fucker Yuri killed our countrymen. I can’t prove it, but we ended up picking the pieces of a Palestinian suicide bomber off the streets of Tel Aviv. Yuri had contact with him. Don’t worry, Nephilim will cause them some much-needed trouble, but we won’t be seeing him again. He’s good, but he’s no match for Yuri and Vlad by himself.”
“Nephilim. That’s a bad omen. Bad name.”
“Stop it with your damn superstitions. Did we hear anything about breaking the second encryption?”
Daniel snapped his fingers and said, “Yes! Yes, we did.” He bent down to the computer and began rattling the keyboard.
“I forgot about it because of your call, but we have the pinpoint location. We can get the drive tomorrow.”
I
called Jennifer as soon as I was out of the room, telling her to come across to the Beyoglu side of the straits. I’d decided to stay right here in the Conrad, figuring getting away from all of the action in Old Town was probably a good idea. Also, the Russian consulate was on this side of the strait, just down the street from Taksim Square. Aaron had said the meeting was within a quarter mile of it, giving me another reason to remain here.
Jennifer said, “So you finally figured out that all of the pubs and bars are over on that side, huh? I wondered how long that would take.”
I smiled. “You’ve been keeping that from me so you could stay near all the old shit. Anyway, I figured you could use a stiff drink.”
Softly, barely loud enough for me to hear in my phone, she said, “I’m okay.”
I said, “I saw the video. I saw what happened. I’m sorry.”
She said nothing. I continued, “I have a picture of the man who I think chased you. We’ll find him. I promise.”
She said, “I’m not so sure I want to do that.”
“You don’t have to be afraid of him. I’ll take care of it.”
“Pike, that’s not what I’m afraid of.”
This wasn’t something I wanted to address on the phone. I saw where she was going, and knew her heart. She would never take a life for revenge, nor would she participate in an operation that resulted in the same. But that wasn’t what I was doing. Well, not completely, anyway.
The fact remained that this Berlin group was focused on facilitating known terrorist organizations that were antithetical to Western civilization. They’d failed with Chiclet, but that didn’t mean they’d quit trying. Reducing their ability to operate was nothing more than reducing a clear and present danger. I knew that Jennifer wouldn’t see it that way, though. All she would see was my bloodlust.
Since I’d brought her into the Taskforce, Jennifer had been forced to do some pretty unsavory things. She’d killed in self-defense, to protect her life, and killed offensively in support of Taskforce objectives when her life wasn’t in danger, but it wasn’t until she’d attempted to manipulate me into slaughtering a man who had raped her that she began to question herself. In the end, she’d deemed the man’s death worse than the damage the killing would do to her psyche. After setting me in motion, she’d tried to prevent me from harming him because of her inherent moral compass.
She’d failed.
I changed the subject. “Where’s the thumb drive?”
I hadn’t even had the time to check the initial report for the operational area, and now we had a pinpoint. Things were moving quickly, and I had to make this good or Kurt would have my ass. The only thing that had prevented a thorough reconnaissance—and thus potentially missing the opportunity to get the thumb drive—was the operation that had gotten Decoy killed. The one I’d begged Kurt to let me execute, against his better judgment.
Jennifer said, “It’s on the railing near the Medusa head in the Basilica Cistern.”
“That means nothing to me.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t. Don’t worry. I’ll get the damn thing. The Cistern opens at nine in the morning. All we need to do is be the first in line.”
“So we don’t need to recce? You’re confident?”
“I’ve already been online. There are thousands of pictures of the Cistern, and the pinpoint mechanics were done by a professional. We should probably get out by eight just to scope it, but it shouldn’t be an issue.”
“Sounds fine by me. Knuckles was good with giving us Retro?”
“Yeah. He wants you to call. There are some complications.”
I said, “I’ll bet. I’m wondering if I should call Kurt.”
“Talk to Knuckles. He’s on your side, although I don’t think that’s smart.”
I said, “I’ll call him now. See you soon. I only got one room, since there’s no Taskforce bullshit.”
She said, “Pike, I’m . . . I’m really tired.”
I laughed and said, “Wow. You must think I’m a robot. I’m just saving Grolier Services some money, since this is now off the government dime.”
There was a pause, then I heard, “Okay.”
I said, “Tomorrow’s coming early. Get in bed and get some sleep. Room’s under Nephilim.”
“Where are you going?”
“Talking to Knuckles. I’ll get your luggage while I’m there.”
She took that in, then said, “Okay. See you when you get back.”
I said, “You good?”
“Yeah. I’m as good as I could be, but don’t go bar hopping with Knuckles.”
“I won’t. I’ll be back soon. Call if you want to talk.”
She said good-bye, and I went to find a cab, dialing Knuckles to give him a warning that I was coming.
• • •
The drive over to our old hotel took longer than I wanted. We’d picked a spot on the European side, just west of the airport in a business district, which worked well for our cover but was hell and gone from Beyoglu—or Old Town, for that matter. It was closing in on three in the morning, and eight o’clock was going to come quickly. While Jennifer and Retro would be doing the work tomorrow, I still needed some sleep.
The only good things about the trip were I’d finally found a cabdriver who spoke English and during the drive I remembered where I’d heard the name Vlad the Impaler. Well, the cabby pretended to speak English, and I wasn’t sure I remembered, but I thought I did. I’d have to check it after I retrieved my computer, but if I was right, it might be the edge I needed to get Aaron into play.
After a repeated conversation with the cabby, where he responded to every damn thing I said with, “Yes, yes,” I finally got him to locate the DoubleTree Hotel. After driving in circles for an additional twenty minutes, we pulled to the front door. About to boil over, I tossed money into the front seat and left, not even waiting on him to count it.
Knuckles was in the lobby drinking a Styrofoam cup of hotel coffee. He looked sunken, like a man who’d just left the doctor with a catastrophic diagnosis. Something I expected. He’d recruited Decoy into the Taskforce after I’d left. They had both served in the same SEAL team at one point or another, and had grown close.
I shook his hand and said, “How’re you holding up?”
He said, “I’m good. This bureaucratic stuff is bullshit, though. Our State Department is doing absolutely nothing to help me with the remains. You’d think he was a crack addict or something.”
I sat down at his table, asking, “Taskforce?”
“They’re not willing to bring any pressure. Too delicate.” He sat down again and said, “Too much heat with the death of Turbo and Radcliffe because they’d already brought pressure in that incident. They’re afraid something will split out of this mess, exposing them. Someone will make the connections if they press again.”
“What’s the status?”
He took a sip of coffee, then leaned back in his chair, looking at the ceiling, his head resting on the top spar. “Best case, I get him home in two days.”
I said, “You know I’m not coming with you.”
He sat back up, saying, “You need to think about that, Pike. Kurt is on the warpath. It’s going to get messy. I mean it’s going to get messy for
you
. You’ve pushed things before, but this is outright mutiny.”
I said, “I know. I probably should let it go, but I’m not. Those fuckers have killed three of our men, and came damn close to killing Jennifer. I can’t let it go.”
“You know you’re losing the rock-star bird, along with the package. I’m taking it with me.”
“Yeah. I know. But I’d appreciate it if you let me raid it before you left.”
“What have you learned?”
I filled him in on the Israeli connection and the probability that the whole thing was designed by a Russian kill squad out to protect Chiclet.
“So you think there’s something more going on with Chiclet? That he’s on his jihad?”
“I think he
was
about to run amok, but I’m pretty sure the Israelis chopped off his nuts on that. They believe the Syrian they killed was bringing in a Sarin arty round. Now that he’s gone, so is Chiclet’s ability to harm anyone. He’s dropped out of sight. The phone we were tracking is dead, and he could be on a ferry to Libya for all I know. Anyway, he’s just a linkage at this point. I’m going after the Russians. I have a meeting location tomorrow night, and I could use a Pwnie Express box. Along with the Goblin IMSI grabber.”
“You got a target?”
“No, but I will tomorrow.”
“You think you can exploit Bluetooth?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure with the Pwnie I can get in.”
He put his cup down. “You can have anything you want. Whatever you want. Just put Decoy’s killer down. Will you do that? For me?”
His eyes were vibrating in anger, and I saw a tic in his hand. A tremor that hadn’t been there before.
He said, “Maybe I should go with you.”
“No, you shouldn’t. You’ve always been the calm one. Let me take this. I promise, I’ll put him down. Just have Retro at the Conrad in Beyoglu no later than eight tomorrow morning with the kit. I’ll keep him until the night, and you can tell Kurt it took longer than we thought for the thumb drive mission.”
“You want me to tell Kurt you’re headed off the reservation and into the badlands?”
“No. I’ll do that myself, after I’ve gotten this incredibly important thumb drive. Might give me a little cushion.”
Knuckles gave a brittle laugh and said, “Yeah, it’ll be like throwing a Dixie cup of water onto an oil well fire.”
The attempt at humor was swallowed by the reality of the night. We sat in silence for a moment, then Knuckles said, “You
are
going to get them, right? I’ve never asked anything of you before. I’ve taken the backseats and I’ve taken the lumps because I trusted you. Because I believed in you. Tell me you’re going to burn them down. I want to hear it.”
I could feel the pain leaking out of his being, reminding me of a dog hit by a car: lying on the pavement and keening, knowing it was hurt but not understanding why. I knew at that point it was good he was going home. Good he was escorting Decoy.
I said, “Yes. I’m going to find them, and when I do, Decoy will be the first to know, because he’ll be counting the souls popping into the afterlife.”