Authors: Don Tompkins
Vladimir was so engrossed in his daydream
that he nearly missed Granowli leaving the café. He finally looked
up to see him walking away down a side street. It was an easy task
for Vladimir to follow him home, talk his way inside by claiming he
had information Granowli could use to help the American and then
kill him. One more person who couldn’t identify him. He wasn’t sure
how many more he had to go, but it had to be down to only a few and
none of those had seen his face. He was pretty sure none of them
could identify him, but he couldn’t afford to take any chances.
After all, what’s a few more kills? With all that he had already
killed, a few more wouldn’t really matter. After Granowli died,
he’d go back to the hotel and try to pick up Thurmond’s trail. The
only problem would be if Thurmond left Poland. He’d have no way of
knowing where he was going or how. Oh, and that one more nagging
problem—Granowli may have described him in his disguise to
Thurmond, but that description would be several years old and he
doubted very much if Thurmond could recognize him today from that
description.
Garcia, in the meantime, watched Sam doing
nothing. After an hour he was starting to believe this was a wild
goose chase when she got to her feet and walked down the street. He
watched her as she approached a taxi that had just pulled over. As
the taxi drove past the bus stop, Garcia saw another person in the
back and realized it was Thurmond. He’d missed him. He was at the
café. How stupid of him not to realize where Thurmond would be. Sam
was just a diversion. Well, back to the Hilton. He hadn’t seen
anyone else watching Sam, but if anyone was following Thurmond, he
wouldn’t have seen him. Damn. Now he had to find a taxi to get
back.
Grant and Sam talked little on the way back
to the hotel. After they were in their room, Grant told her about
the meeting and that he’d gotten a new list of names. Since he
wasn’t sure the secretive code-named informant would answer his ad,
Thurmond decided to focus on the other two. At least he knew they
had always responded to the ads Granowli placed. It might mean
another three days in Warsaw, but it’d be worth it. The first thing
they had to do was to check the death records for the past six
years or so. No more waiting around on people who were never going
to show up. Neither of the two names was listed at DIA as having
been killed, but that would make sense. No one at DIA knew they
were even part of the network.
***
Granowli, before he died,
also told Vladimir the same names he had given Thurmond. There were
only three that Koslowski hadn’t told him about. Since they were
all in the same cluster, he had already known those names and had
killed two of those people almost two weeks ago. His was the third
name. Although he couldn’t be positive, he believed that with the
information he had drugged out of Granowli, he had killed
all
the people who might
be able to identify him. There may be a few left that would know
his code name, but he didn’t think anyone was left who could
positively identify him to Thurmond or to the Russians. But, just
to be sure, he’d better keep tabs on Thurmond, who was turning out
to be cleverer than Vladimir first thought.
Thurmond might just identify more people and
be able to put more pieces of the puzzle together. If it looked
like he was getting close, Vladimir would kill him and his
girlfriend, too. Then he remembered this guy Garcia. He hadn’t been
able to spot him yet, so he didn’t know if he was in Warsaw or not.
Since he didn’t know how much this Garcia knew, it would be very
important to make sure he died when Thurmond and the girl died.
With all this going on, it might be a good idea to move up the
timetable on all the deaths. Vladimir decided to work out a plan to
make that happen in the next few days. But first, he had to spot
Garcia.
I minus 37
The next morning both Grant and Sam were up
early. Since Grant wanted to continue to limit the time they were
together outside the hotel room, he ordered room service
breakfast.
Between bites Grant said, “Sam, even though
I don’t like you going out on your own, we need to split up today.
I’d like you to head to the bureau of public records, or whatever
that’s called over here, and check on death reports for these two
people. If you don’t find anything, you might have to check the
newspaper morgue files. I’m gonna head to the embassy to call
General Wheeler on the secure phone with an update.”
“Sure. I can do that. Meet back here for
lunch?” Sam said brightly.
Grant, stopping a forkful
of food on its way to his mouth, said, “Yeah. If you find out
either one or both are not listed as having died, then I’ll place
the newspaper personal ads in the
Gazeta
Wyborcza
this afternoon. I can get help
from the embassy translating the message into Polish. I’ve
memorized the words, but I don’t have a clue how to spell them.
After that . . . I guess we’ll just wait.” He filled his mouth with
the very good food.
Soon, after placing the handgun in his
inside coat pocket, Grant left the hotel. As usual, Vladimir had
parked his car near the entrance of the hotel and when Thurmond
hailed a taxi, he stayed close enough behind to make sure he didn’t
lose him . . . but not close enough to be recognized. However,
Grant, on high alert right now, did notice a car swing out and make
a daring U-turn, staying behind them. Could be nothing, but he kept
an eye on the car all the way to the Embassy. Since they didn’t
make any turns along the way and the morning commuting traffic was
heavy, it was difficult to tell whether the car was following him
or was just another crazy Polish driver on his way to work. As
Grant’s taxi slowed down to enter the embassy gate, the other car
sailed on past with the driver not so much as giving Grant’s taxi a
glance. The car looked like a million others on the road and Grant
wasn’t sure he could recognize it again. It had a few dents in the
front fenders and the grill was busted, but a lot of other cars
were banged up, too. Still, he’d keep it in mind.
Garcia, meanwhile, sitting on his bus stand
bench, watched Grant leave the hotel and, determined not to miss
him this time, frantically hailed down a taxi. As he entered the
taxi and told to driver to just go forward quickly until he told
him to stop, another crazy driver made a u-turn on the busy street
causing traffic to stop quickly, including his taxi. He got a quick
view of the driver in profile and by the determined look on his
face he was clearly a man on a mission. Man, they drove crazy here.
Worse than the beltway back home, he thought. His driver was able
to get about a block behind Thurmond’s taxi and hold that position.
The wild driver was still a couple of cars ahead of him, but was
driving more calmly now so Garcia dismissed it. As they approached
the US embassy, Grant’s taxi pulled in. To avoid detection, Garcia
went on past. Half a block further the same stupid driver did
another U-turn and as Garcia looked back, the driver parked his car
on the other side of the street facing back towards the embassy.
Garcia’s training kicked in. Was this guy following Thurmond? He’d
swung out into traffic right behind Thurmond’s taxi and had now had
placed his car in position where he could watch anyone arriving or
leaving the Embassy. He instructed his driver to go around the
block and park on a side street near the corner where he could keep
the other car in sight.
After making his way up the Embassy’s inside
elevator to the third floor, Grant called General Wheeler on the
secure phone.
“Wheeler,” The General barked as he
answered. His voice was, as usual, gruff, making his name sound
like a command.
“General, this is Thurmond,” Grant
paused.
“Great timing, Colonel. I have a meeting in
fifteen minutes that the DNI is also attending. When he sees me I
know he’ll ask for an update.”
Grant spent ten minutes updating the General
on what he’d found.
“So let me get this straight. You’re no
closer to solving the problem?” Wheeler was clearly annoyed.
Grant replied calmly, “Well, sir, I’m
getting more information, more pieces of the puzzle. I know time’s
getting short, but I’m not ready to throw in the towel. I think I’m
getting closer.”
“We’re planning the most secure inauguration
in history, but the President-elect insists that it be outside and
proceed as planned. There are so many things to cover that I’m just
not sure we can make it completely assassination proof. The secret
service is running the show and, while they’re the best in the
world at this stuff, nobody’s perfect. Colonel, I’ve got a bad
feeling about this.”
“So do I sir, but to solve this we have to
take a systematic approach, following each lead as we uncover it.
That’s what I’m doing,” Grant said with more confidence than he
felt.
“Do what you have to, but get it done. If
you need any help, you know how to reach me,” Wheeler growled.
“Yes, sir.”
The defense attaché said he had a meeting in
town and offered to give Thurmond a lift back to his hotel and
Grant accepted. They left by a back door and their ride was
uneventful. Thurmond knew the driver was CIA and armed, ready to
protect the defense attaché with his life. He felt completely safe
and was able to relax and even able to have a social conversation
about the upcoming NFL playoffs while in the car.
***
Vladimir assumed Thurmond would exit the
embassy through the front door and take a taxi from there. So he
paid close attention to see if a taxi came to the embassy front
entrance or if Thurmond came out to flag one down. The official
embassy cars that came and went had heavily tinted windows,
preventing Vladimir from seeing anyone who might be inside them, so
he paid no attention to them. After waiting in his car for two
hours, Vladimir decided he’d somehow missed Thurmond so he decided
to go have some lunch and return to his post outside the hotel.
Hopefully he’d find a parking spot on the street where he could
watch the entrance.
Garcia, restlessly sitting in the back seat,
had been feeding the taxi driver twenty dollar bills every half
hour or so to keep him waiting. As the other car pulled out, Garcia
instructed his taxi driver to follow, thinking he was unnoticed by
the driver of the parked car.
Vladimir had, however, noticed the taxi
sitting on the side street, thinking it was unusual for the driver
to be idle and not out hustling fares. But, maybe the driver had
been up all night and was just napping. Vladimir started his car
and pulled away from the curb, staying in the right lane. He kept
his eye on his mirror and was surprised to see the taxi pull out
behind him. Vladimir immediately became alert. He varied his
driving speed, sometimes slowing down much slower than surrounding
traffic and sometimes speeding up. The taxi stayed behind him. Not
too close, but definitely queuing off his driving speed. Who would
be looking for him? Russians? He decided to quickly pull over and
stop and let the taxi pass by him. Then he could follow it. When
Vladimir’s car pulled over, Garcia instructed his driver to
continue on down the road, ignoring the car. As the taxi passed his
car, all Vladimir could see was someone slumped down in the back
seat and couldn’t tell whether it was a man or woman.
He started going through the
possibilities—it could be the Russians, it could be the girl, or it
could be the elusive Garcia. He was sure it wasn’t Thurmond. The
taxi was there right after Thurmond entered the embassy. He
wouldn’t have had time to get into position. If it were the girl,
she would be no problem for him. If it were the Russians, he might
be in trouble, but he couldn’t see them using a taxi and also it
looked like there was only one person in the back of the taxi. The
Russians would no doubt send several. They weren’t known for being
subtle. It could be this Garcia, but he couldn’t be sure. He
decided to take the initiative and get close enough to the taxi to
see into the back seat. He pulled his hat low over his forehead and
accelerated forward, speeding around cars both on the right and the
left side of the road.
As he approached the taxi from the rear,
Garcia, who’d been watching Vladimir’s car, told the driver to get
away from the car behind him. His driver sped up and the car behind
him gave chase. The taxi driver, being very experienced and skilled
in veering through traffic started to put distance between the two
cars. This only encouraged Vladimir to drive more erratically,
taking even more risks.
After several blocks, the taxi driver came
upon a knot of traffic he couldn’t safely go around and was forced
to stop. Vladimir, in the car behind, saw an opportunity and closed
the distance rapidly slamming into the rear of the taxi at full
speed. Garcia, who was not wearing a seatbelt, was thrown around
the back of the taxi, hitting his head on the left side window hard
enough to break the glass and knock him unconscious. The crash
completely demolished the trunk area of the taxi, rupturing the
fuel tank and starting a fire.
Vladimir’s car was disabled, but he was
unhurt. Immediately after the crash, when he saw the taxi burst
into flames, he abandoned his car and escaped on foot down the
block. He walked the rest of the way to the hotel, went to his
room, opened a vodka from the mini bar and sat heavily in one of
the armchairs. Thankfully they restocked the mini bar every day. He
thought about what had just happened. Somehow, someone had
identified him. That person hopefully was now dead, but he couldn’t
be sure who it was or what nation he was working for. It had to be
either the US or Russia. No one else was looking for him. He wasn’t
worried about the crash. The car had been stolen in Krakow a week
before and there was no way to trace it back to him. But now,
everyone had to die . . . quickly. And he had to find another
car.