“I think our friend will be hallucinating within the hour if he keeps drinking like this.”
“The last time I visited him, he put away a bottle and a half in three hours. It kept him talking.”
“It’s your call. What did the home office say?”
“They’re walking it up to the director this morning. We might have an answer before we leave. My goal now is to get enough information to adequately plan the attack, regardless of the ultimate decision.”
Petrovich shook his head and grinned. Berg truly impressed him. Time to have some fun. When the two of them turned the corner, Reznikov screwed the cap on the bottle of vodka, which stood on the table half-empty. The serious look on his face betrayed a slight change in his attitude. Daniel guessed they were in for a request. The frightened scientist had found confidence in the clear liquid sitting at the bottom of his stomach. Not the kind of liquid courage found at a late-night karaoke bar, but something different. Berg sensed it too as they entered the kitchen nook.
“This ought to be good,” Berg mumbled.
“Gentlemen, before we proceed, I need assurances,” Reznikov said.
Berg sat at the table and sighed. “This isn’t a negotiation. We’ve been through this already. When and if your information is confirmed, you’ll be offered permanent residence at this wonderful facility. Signed and sealed by the director of the CIA. If your information is deemed deceitful or purposely jeopardizes the safety of my people, the deal is off.”
“That’s what I’m worried about…”
“What? The possibility that the mission will succeed and I’ll still throw you in a hole?” Berg said.
“I’d be worried about that,” Petrovich added.
“We both know I don’t have any control over your personal integrity, but I can drastically improve your team’s chance of success with a single phone call. I think we both can agree that it’s in my best interest for the team to succeed.”
“I’m listening,” Berg said.
“You’re going to need connections on the inside…”
“Not inside Vektor. It’s far too risky. Try again,” Berg said.
“I’m not talking about Vektor. I’m talking about inside Russia,” Reznikov said.
“Our team is perfectly capable of handling that aspect of the mission,” Petrovich said.
“Really? How much time have they spent in Russia, particularly Novosibirsk?”
They kept silent until Reznikov continued.
“Novosibirsk is a provincial Siberian city, with few foreigners…”
“The team is trained for that,” Berg said.
“Trained? You’ll only get one shot at this, Mr. Berg. Novosibirsk is still a Soviet city in many respects, unlike Moscow or Saint Petersburg. Less cosmopolitan, more bureaucracy. In order to pull this off, you’re going to need specialized equipment, weapons, explosives and hard-to-acquire transportation. You’re going to need a way to grease palms without raising eyebrows. If you don’t believe what I’m saying, get in touch with your analysts. I’m sure they’ll confirm what I’ve told you.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I have contacts in the bratva that can pave the way for your team. Take care of the logistical details and conduct preliminary surveillance,” Reznikov said, unscrewing the bottle.
“The Russian mafiya? You have to be kidding me. Why would the brotherhood help us…or help you?”
“Money, of course, and a favor I did for one of the Solntsevskaya brigadiers a few years ago. I provided a small amount of natural neurotoxin that targets the body’s respiratory muscles. Something I smuggled out of Vektor on their behalf. They had no idea what I was really working on back then. Anyway, he used it to quietly kill several rival mafiya ‘boyeviks’ over the course of a six-month period, while the Solntsevskaya gang solidified control of organized crime activity in the Novosibirsk Oblast. That favor will get me an audience. A large sum of money will get you the support you need to take down Vektor.”
“The Solntsevkaya Bratva is a nasty group that I’m not keen to trust. I think I’ll pass on your offer,” Berg said.
“It’s non-negotiable. They’re your only hope of pulling this off and getting your people out alive. One hundred and fifty miles is a long trip. A very unpredictable trip without local support. I can’t afford to take the chance. Either you put me in touch with my bratva contact, or I’m not saying another word. And you still need my help. I haven’t told you half of what you’ll need to know about Vektor.”
“How much money do you think it will take?” Berg said.
“Several million U.S. dollars. Maybe more,” Reznikov said.
Petrovich whistled. He couldn’t wait to hear Berg’s response to this. Maybe Reznikov was smarter than he acted. He certainly hadn’t expected this wrinkle in their plan, but oddly enough, it made sense. Trust would be a major issue, but enough money could always solidify temporary loyalty in organizations like these. He’d seen more than his share of deals sealed over large payoffs that trumped longstanding personal disagreements. The Serbians under Milosevic had perfected the concept of purchasing loyalty. The trick to buying loyalty always remained the same. Make your first offer higher than expected, and be prepared to pay out more at the last minute. Never start out with a lowball offer, or you’re likely find yourself standing at the end of a steel barrel…sold out to a competitor willing to pay more. He’d make sure to speak with Sanderson at length about the payment amount, reinforcing its importance to the mission. Sanderson might have to shell out some of his own cash to keep the team out of trouble.
“That sounds like a lot of money. I’m not sure how I’m going to come up with several million dollars for an operation that never happened,” Berg said.
“Oh, give me a break. One of your new Tomahawk missiles would cost you close to one million dollars, and I think you’d need to use three or four to make absolutely certain that the building was obliterated. Even then, you’d never know. The beauty here is that the Russians will probably blame the Israelis, especially if you take out the Iranians. Several million dollars is a bargain! I can get this started immediately. All I need is access to a cell phone.”
“That’s not going to happen. No outside contact is allowed,” Berg said.
“I’m not asking to keep the phone here. I just need periodic access, to make sure the relationship is going smoothly. No cell phone, no deal. Good luck trying to destroy a P4 containment building with Semtex. I hope you can rent a dump truck in Novosibirsk, because that’s how much explosives you’ll need…unless I get what I want.”
“I’ll give you limited, strictly monitored satellite phone access. Five calls. One to establish contact. One to negotiate the deal. Three to confirm whatever it is that you feel the need to confirm. I will personally oversee the calls, along with several translators. If anything is screwy, I’ll bury you myself. No questions asked. Does this sound fair to you?”
Petrovich was glad to hear that Berg wouldn’t agree to the use of a cell phone. He figured they had some kind of scrambling device or way to reroute calls from the compound, but computer hackers could work miracles these days, as he had witnessed firsthand a few weeks ago. There was no reason to assume that Russian hackers couldn’t do the same thing. Satellite communication was the safest method available. The radio waves couldn’t be intercepted without sophisticated land or space-based SIGINT (Signals Intelligence) technology, which, in the case of Reznikov’s limited use, would be like finding a needle in a haystack without looking.
“Yes. Five calls will be sufficient. The final call will be made right before I give you the most important piece of information, so don’t think of playing any games,” Reznikov said.