Niles turned away from the Russian and looked directly at Second Captain Dishlakov. “Sir, on behalf of the president of the United States, we offer you asylum in our country.”
Dishlakov stood and nodded. He looked from Compton to Jack and then to Vassick.
“I thank you for the offer,” he said in Russian, which was translated by Virginia to Niles and the others. “But I am not a coward. My people must learn the truth about these arrogant and dangerous men. I cannot accept your gracious offer.” He sat back down, and he again looked Jack’s way, and he could only nod in understanding. He would do the same thing if it were him.
“Again, you are wasting your time. You will not win this battle. You have”—Vassick looked at his gold wristwatch—“exactly thirty minutes to comply with our request, or we can settle things militarily. This point is up to you.”
“As you said, your power is derived from secrecy of your hidden group. That you would control all aspects of your government through your committee members. Well, it may not be that secret any longer. Your little speech has been viewed by a colleague of yours who is now an interested party to your committee’s deceit since 1941.”
At this point, Xavier Morales rolled his old-fashioned wheelchair over to the monitor and then flipped a switch, and a blank screen came up. Then Xavier typed information into the laptop he had installed on the arm of his chair. He turned in his wheelchair and nodded at Niles.
“Second Captain Dishlakov, your refusal to assist these men and your refusal to seek asylum will not go unnoticed. I assume you will still be alive in the coming months and years as your government figures out what it is they have to do about this rogue element within the sanctity of your national borders. The US government is bowing out of this situation by order of our president.”
“That is most wise,” Vassick said as his intense gaze fell on the Russian captain.
Jack and the others saw the faintest hint of a smile curl at the director’s mouth.
“Mr. President, are you there?” Niles said as he turned to the monitor.
“So, now you think we will bow to your president, Doctor? What makes you think this?” Vassick said with the smile still on his face. “We know that he is powerless to pursue any remedy for my group of patriots.”
“Who said anything about our president?”
“Uh-oh,” Carl said loud enough to be heard. Jack only smiled as the bluff came full circle in a confused mess that Compton would have to explain to simple soldiers like he and Carl.
The color drained from the face of Dr. Vassick as the screen came to full-color life.
The face of Russian president Vladimir Putin was there live for all to see. He was sitting next to a man they all assumed was an English-speaking interpreter. But Jack figured rightly that he hadn’t needed one for what it was he had just heard confessed to. The Russian ruler said something in a calm voice, and then the man sitting next to him spoke.
“I am indeed here, Doctor. Your president was very forthright in insisting I join this meeting.”
“Did you understand all that was discussed here, sir?” Compton continued, with his one good eye never leaving his counterpart.
Vassick lost that arrogant smile of his as he realized for the first time in his committee’s history they had admitted to their treason in full view of Russian authority.
“Yes, I believe we have serious internal discussions we will have to have on state security matters. I have made the appropriate arrangements with your navy, and our response, I understand, has arrived aboard your carrier.” The interpreter became silent as Putin, a man despised in the Western circles of government, stared into the screen.
Jack realized that a plan had been formulated between himself and Lord James Durnsford, the bow-tied little Brit who knew more than anyone in the world as far as secret government agencies went. Collins smiled and shook his head as he reminded himself never to allow the best bluffer in the world in the stubby form of one Niles Compton into their weekly poker game. He looked at the seated Russian agent Salkukoff and winked at him. The man turned away angrily, as his plans had been illuminated by the most powerful spotlight in the world.
There was the sound of the hatchway being opened, and the same marine stepped aside to allow men in blue battle camouflage to enter. Jack and Carl knew them to be Russian marines. What was amazing was the fact that the US Marine security detail allowed them to keep their sidearms aboard one of the most protected ships in the entire world—Nimitz.
The ten very large Russian naval marines marched straight to the seated Russians. With Vladimir Putin still watching with an intense gaze, the marines took them into custody.
Vassick smiled as he was stood up and handcuffed. He remained silent as he was escorted out.
They saw Salkukoff stand up as if he were the next to be taken, but the marines merely walked past him and out of the hangar deck. It was Second Captain Dishlakov who stopped in front of Salkukoff, and then it was his turn to smile as he simply walked out.
All eyes went to the large screen of the monitor as the interpreter spoke. “My president wishes to express his gratitude for your assistance in this matter and wishes you to pass the same along to your president. This issue will be taken up with trusted members of our politburo, and appropriate measures will be taken. As for the apparatus in your possession, according to official Soviet records, the Simbirsk was lost with all hands in the summer of 1945. So, it is our opinion that this ship is not Russian state property, and our government has authorized its destruction if that is the will of your salvage team. We expect a proper outcome to this matter and thus will discuss it no further as long as the appropriate measures are taken immediately. Good day, gentlemen.”
The monitor again went blank as the stoic face of the Russian president vanished.
Jack and the others stood and shook hands with Niles, Xavier, and Virginia.
“You are going to have to explain all of this when we get home,” Jack said as he smiled and faced the Group.
Niles smiled and looked deeply into Jack’s eyes. “That’s need to know, Colonel, need to know.”
The Russian-made helicopter left the flight deck of the Nimitz and sped toward the waiting Russian battle fleet miles away. Vassick was angry as he sat with his fellows and then gestured angrily toward the marines watching them. Second Captain Dishlakov’s eyes widened when Vassick held out his cuffed hands and the marine removed not only his but the also the restraints of the other members of his group. Vassick angrily gestured toward a man in civilian dress who had not been aboard the carrier. The black-suited man handed over a laptop.
“Second Captain Dishlakov, you may want to witness this.”
Two Russian marines harshly stood the Russian officer and pushed him to the opposite side of the helicopter. Dishlakov watched as a connection was made. The face of Vladimir Putin was there and smiling.
“Are you hearing me, Gregor?” Vassick said into the microphone on the laptop.
“Yes, and I guess you’re lucky we were, my old friend. They had me in a television interview for three hours with a silly woman reporter from Germany. I almost didn’t make it in time.”
“Well, you did good, old friend. You go and finish your interview now.”
“Okay, you old Bolshevik, see you when you get home to Siberia.”
The laptop went blank.