Authors: Murray McDonald
“Major, you received my message?” asked the General, no need for preamble.
“Yes Sir, General.”
“You understand the importance of your mission?”
“Of course, General!’
“Where are you now?”
“We are securing the property’s boundary and ascertaining the location of the target.”
“Is he not there?”
“It appears not, we have two heat sources on our infra red, one too small and the other has recently arrived and was not the target. We are assuming the wife and another unidentified male.”
“The child?”
“No heat source suggests a child is on site, General… wait a second, General…”
Major Pushkin listened to his number two report the news picked up by their radio operator.
“I’m sorry General we have reports coming through of a CIA assassin in the area having just competed a mission nearby. Our target perhaps.”
General Borodin almost choked on his vodka as the Major relayed the information.
“Sorry,” he spluttered. “You are picking up a radio broadcast of a CIA operation?”
“Sorry, we are not picking up a CIA broadcast, General. It is a local news channel reporting the information,” clarified Pushkin.
“Vasiliy get in here!” shouted Borodin for the world to hear.
“Pushkin, I’ll call you back!” informed the General before killing the connection.
Vasiliy rushed to his General’s command and stood ready for whatever he needed.
“I’ve just heard that the local news station is reporting a CIA assassin’s involvement in Laredo. I actually thought for a moment we were able to listen to encrypted CIA broadcasts but that’s another matter,” he digressed before coming back on subject. “ Find out what is happening!” he ordered.
“Of course, General.”
***
Captain John Kenny had been monitoring and analyzing the Glonass system pretty much since its reinstatement by President Putin as a top priority for modern Russia. The original system had caused great concern at the time of its inception in the late 70s and had been a fairly major priority for NSA at that time. Rooms of data on the structure and capability of Russia’s own network of Global Positioning Satellites had been filled many times over. However, with the fall of the wall and the downturn in the Russian economy in the 90s, it fell into disrepair. Putin’s reinvestment lifted some eyebrows within the NSA but nothing like the interest generated in the cold war era.
Captain Kenny was fascinated by the system and had pretty much followed it as a hobby during his normal duties at Lackland Air Force Base within the NSA’s Texas Cryptology Center. He was convinced the structure and original plans were to create something far more powerful than a simple navigation system. However until that night, he had not an ounce of evidence to support such a suggestion. In the previous two hours, all of that had changed. Two anomalies had occurred that had triggered a small program John had written to alert him to any such nuances. Two signals had been sent to the system that was far more advanced than anything that had ever been sent before and the signals had emanated not from Russia but from Texas itself. It seemed all his efforts to convince the hierarchy of an advanced communication tool, far beyond anything the US had even considered possible of the Russians, was a reality.
He grabbed his phone and immediately called the duty officer at Fort Meade, he needed to speak to Vice Admiral Kenyon, Head of the NSA immediately.
***
General Borodin picked up the new fangled phone and hit the dial button. He was connected to Pushkin almost immediately.
“You are right, it seems a CIA operative has been active in the area. Although our intelligence believed the target was no longer with the Agency. The coincidence would presume he is your target.”
“Do you have his new location?” asked Pushkin, keen to fulfill his orders.
“From the reports, he is in a police facility at the border.”
“What should we do?” asked Pushkin.
Borodin paused as he considered the options. Pushkin’s team was more than capable of taking out a police station; it was whether the situation required it.
“You said the woman was still there?”
“Yes, General.”
“He’ll come back, be ready when he does!” he ordered before killing the line.
***
As Captain John Kenny was being put through to a very sleepy and grumpy Vice Admiral Kenyon, his program reported a further nuance. Three in the space of two hours and two of those in five minutes.
“What in the name of God is it Kenny?”
“I was right Admiral, the Glonass is an advanced communication system!”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“The Russian equivalent of our GPS system, they are using it for communications.”
“And this couldn’t wait until the morning?!” he answered with some anger.
“Well that’s just it, Sir. They’re communicating from here!”
“The US?”
“Yes, the US, in fact right here in Texas!” explained Kenny excitedly.
“So you have hunch about a system developed in the eighties by the Soviets that it has some amazing uses nobody else agrees with and it just so happens the first proof you get is on your doorstep? Of all the places in the world the first location is where you are?!” The final sentence had Captain Kenny moving the handset away from his ear.
Before Captain Kenny could respond, the admiral hung up. The call was over and the duty officer came back on line.
“Hmm, I think you should start packing your bags, John. I would imagine your next post will be even more remote than Texas!”
“Just file my report!” demanded John as he himself hung up. He knew he was right, just as he had been three years earlier when his pestering had resulted in his transfer from Fort Meade to Texas.
The report of suggested advanced level Russian communications emanating from the state of Texas to the Glonass satellite navigation system was filed in the intelligence report for the day. Linked into the United States intelligence community network, it would be available for all 16 members of the community to view and cross check against their own reports and analyses.
The moment the reference to Russia and Texas hit the system, an alarm triggered at the CIA headquarters at Langley. A call was placed to the former Head of CIA’s Moscow office and friend of Vincent Black, Mike Ritter, who just two hours earlier had requested any information pertaining to Russia, Sean Fox or Laredo, Texas. On receiving Vincent’s earlier call Mike had climbed out of bed and on Vincent’s request had headed straight to Langley. Vincent wanted somebody with first hand knowledge looking into what the hell was going on. And as far as Vincent was concerned, nobody understood the region or its history better than Mike, having spent almost his entire career in Moscow during the cold war and beyond.
Chapter 40
With over three hours sleep, Sean felt invigorated, or at least he told himself he did. The governor’s chopper coming into land had awoken him to the frantic last minute preparations to welcome the governor’s arrival. The small office where he had been kept from the press’ prying eyes was the last to be visited by the welcoming party and on seeing he was up and awake, they swarmed in and tidied just about everything but the desk, chairs and sofa that had been Sean’s makeshift bed for the last two hours.
The Mayor introduced himself to Sean. He was a former FBI agent and was certainly not your average city Mayor. Both awaited the arrival of the governor with some small talk. Sean constantly had to change the subject as the mayor offered his extremely expert and experienced viewpoint and perspective on the warring cartels and the situations Sean and his team must have been facing working undercover.
Knowing approximately zero on the subject, it was one of the most difficult conversations Sean had ever undertaken. His knowledge of Nuevo Laredo was that it was the neighbor to Laredo, it had better whorehouses and Luis’ uncle ran one of the cartels. Fortunately for Sean, the governor made a beeline to his hero and insisted on meeting Sean before making any comments to the press.
“My man!’ beamed Governor Rick Brown as he entered the office.
Sean accepted the outstretched hand and introduced the Mayor.
“Great to meet you, Mr Mayor. Would you mind giving me a few minutes?” he offered the mayor with a smile and a handshake.
The mayor accepted the hint graciously and nodding his head to Sean, exited the small office and left the governor and Sean alone.
Silence followed as the Governor looked closely at Sean, a little too closely for Sean’s liking but he was about to be president, so he let it go.
“Have we met?” asked the governor after the rather awkward staring.
“Hmm, can’t say we have,” replied Sean, pretty certain they had never met before.
“I definitely recognize you and I never forget a face!” he continued to stare at Sean.
“Nope, can’t say we have,” replied Sean with some conviction, he had never met the man before, he was certain.
The governor shook his head and waved his finger at Sean. “It will come to me, it always does.”
Sean nodded half hearted at the governor’s playful promise.
“So, what the fuck are you playing at?” The smile was gone and the governor was bringing things back to business.
The change of demeanor, tone and friendliness in the bat of an eye, was, Sean thought to himself, impressive.
“Just doing a favor for a friend!”
“I thought we hadn’t met,” asked the governor confused by Sean’s answer.
“You’re not the friend I’m doing the favor for!”
“Oh, so who then?”
“Somebody at the CIA.”
“Your boss?”
Sean checked his watch. “Nope,” it had been over two hours since he had spoken to Vincent, so, technically, he was no longer a CIA operative.
“So who then?”
“A friend.”
“Does you friend have a name?” asked an exasperated governor.
“Yep,” replied Sean. He could keep this up for hours.
“Care to tell me it?”
“Nope.”
“You are a federal employee and I am a Governor of the United States of America, will you just tell me the name!”
“Actually, I’m not a federal employee.”
“I thought you were a CIA agent?”
“I was.”
“But you told the officers here you were a CIA agent, is that not true?”
“No.”
“So you lied?”
“No, not true, double negative, ” replied Sean.
“Jesus, are you going to give me a straight answer?”
“I have been,” offered Sean with no hint of sarcasm.
The governor pulled up a chair and indicated for Sean to do the same. Sean flicked the chair with his right foot and spun it in his left hand and planted himself just as it landed perfectly in line with the Governor’s.
“Oh my God” exclaimed the governor. “That’s how I recognize you, James Fox!”
Sean looked at him with utter confusion. The governor was the same age as himself. How the hell did he know his father?
“That thing you just did with your chair, your father used to do the same thing.”
Sean thought back and realized he was right. That was exactly what his father used to do, kick and spin the chair before planting himself to perfection on the seat. Sitting on the chair back to front.
“How did you know my father?”
“Uncle James, he visited us.” The governor thought back. “About three or four times a year.”
“Uncle?” exclaimed Sean.
“Well that’s what I called him, he was a good friend of my mom and dads.”
“But I never met your parents?”
“They didn’t travel much after dad’s accident. In fact, I think it was the time they spent in Washington before I was born that they met your parents. Dad was too ill to travel to the funeral when they died.”
“So you are James Fox’s son!”
“Yep, Sean, Sean Fox.” Sean offered his hand again for a more personal meeting. “Pleased to meet you, Governor!”
Governor Brown took the hand and shook at in a completely different way than before. The firmness and strength had been replaced by a warmer friendlier shake.
“But wait a minute,” the governor pondered. “Didn’t I read you had died, that’s why I didn’t recognize you straight away. I thought you were dead!”
“Another Sean Fox,” smiled Sean not particularly wanting to revisit that story.
“OK,” replied the governor. “So anyway, who is this friend?”
Sean laughed as the governor leaned in conspiratorially, saying he knew Sean’s father it seemed was all he needed to crack Sean’s resolve.
“I’m afraid not, Mr Governor…”
“Rick, please call me Rick!”
“I’m afraid not, Rick. Let’s just say he has your best interests at heart.”
“Worth a shot!” replied the governor with a shrug. He obviously hadn’t expected Sean to fold.
“So you’re not in the CIA any longer?”
“No, left about eighteen months ago and just picked up this job to help out a friend.”
“So what do you do now?”
“Up until about one day ago, bodyguard and exec rescue in Afghanistan.”
“Sounds dangerous!”
“Not nearly as dangerous as here!” muttered Sean under his breath.
“Sorry?” asked the governor not quite catching what he had said.
“Very, but paid very well.”
“And now that you’ve done your favor for your friend?”
“One more little job and then life’s a beach.”
The governor considered Sean’s answer far more than Sean thought it deserved.
“How long will your little job last?”
Sean hadn’t really considered how long it would take him to get James back but the more he considered it he realized it really needed to be soon. Too many variables were in play and the situation could get out of control at any moment. James’ life really was hanging by a thread.
“Hopefully, we’ll have it wrapped up the end of the day!”
“Perfect, we leave for Moscow in three days!”
“Sorry?” asked Sean perplexed by the statement.
“I have a trip scheduled to Moscow as part of my build up to announcing my presidency. I need a bodyguard and you obviously fit the bill. Perfect.”
“The Secret Service will protect you.”