“In the course of trying to identify Petrovich from the images taken in Stockholm, we discovered an amazing coincidence through Interpol. Daniel Petrovich bears a 93 % resemblance to Marko Resja, a Serbian paramilitary sniper wanted by the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia. The charges leveled against him are highly specific, which is unusual for this tribunal. Torture and murder, to include a beheading. According to the documents, he fled Serbia in 1999, never to be seen again.”
“When did he first appear in Serbia?”
“The exact timeline is unknown. Tribunal documents state that he operated with the Panthers from early 1998, until he disappeared in the late spring of 1999.”
“Four years,” Pushnoy muttered.
“Four years?”
“His training lasted nearly four years. 1994 to 1998. That’s unheard of, even for CIA deep-cover agents.”
“We found two more possible members of this group. Richard Farrington and Jeffrey Munoz appeared on FBI wanted lists at the same time as Sanderson and the Petroviches.”
“Petroviches?”
“Daniel and Jessica Petrovich were placed on FBI wanted lists right around the time of the high-profile assassination spree in the United States,” Ardankin clarified. “Several Muslim businessmen were killed in one evening.”
“I remember that. This is nearly unbelievable. What about Farrington and Munoz?”
“Both of them were regular military. Lieutenant Colonel Farrington started his career in 1987 as an infantry officer and remained on active duty until he appeared on the FBI watch list in 2005. The details of his arrest warrant are sealed. Munoz’s profile resembles Petrovich’s. Entered active duty as a Marine artillery officer in 1992 and melted away, reemerging in early 2002 as a civilian. He was wanted in connection with the murder of one of the eight Muslim businessmen.”
“Was?” Pushnoy remarked, looking up from the files.
“That’s the most interesting aspect of this entire case. They all disappeared from the FBI wanted lists in late April of this year. A little more than three weeks ago,” Ardankin said.
“All of them?” Pushnoy said.
“All of them,” he replied blankly.
“This is all highly irregular. Were they taken off the FBI lists before or after Stockholm?”
“Archived snapshot data indicates that they were removed from the lists the day after the ambush in Stockholm.”
“You would think that if Sanderson’s group had been turned into a legitimate extension of the United States government, they would have been removed from the lists prior to the CIA-sanctioned attack on our agents,” Pushnoy said.
“The CIA has been known to utilize questionable assets. Maybe Sanderson’s group conducted the attack in exchange for some kind of immunity.”
“I’m not so sure. This group is homegrown. Not the kind of degenerate outside scum we use for missions requiring no links. The operative captured in Munich could have shed more light on this mystery.”
Ardankin noted the subtle implication that his agents had mishandled the opportunity. Unfortunately, this wasn’t far from the truth, though in all fairness, the Directorate “S” agents assigned to the abduction couldn’t have predicted their captive’s steely resilience and unnatural commitment to this newly discovered program.
“He killed himself on an agent’s knife. Careless, yet completely unexpected,” Ardankin said.
“It seems that General Terrence Sanderson has created a new breed of American operatives. We can expect nothing but the unexpected from this point forward.”
“Perhaps all was not lost with Pavrikova. Her kidnapping—”
“Defection. Though I’m surprised they didn’t just kill her. It would have been a lot simpler,” Pushnoy interjected.
“The Americans have always been soft when it comes to their contacts,” Ardankin said.
“Indeed. Have you notified FSB Special Operations?”
“Not yet.”
“I’m surprised they haven’t contacted you. Miss Pavrikova’s absence must have been duly noted this morning.”
“Arkady Baranov will tiptoe around this—” Ardankin started.
“Baranov? Tiptoeing? Hardly. If anyone is worried right now, it’s his boss, Greshnev. He’ll be concerned about my reaction, but infinitely more troubled about Baranov’s,” Pushnoy said. “Baranov is hardcore, old-school Spetsnaz. If he suspects that we made a direct move against one of his people, he might retaliate. Pavrikova was part of the Center for Special Operations.”
“She was a technician. Hardly the same as an agent,” Ardankin said.
“Baranov is a warrior. He doesn’t need much of a reason to pick a fight. Especially with us. Make sure you contact him immediately to explain the situation. And put an immediate end to any continuing surveillance of his personnel,” Pushnoy said.
“What if he doesn’t believe me?”
“You need to make him believe you. We can’t afford to have him as an enemy. Sooner or later, it will cost us more than just a few operatives.”
“I’ll take care of this immediately. How much information should I share regarding Sanderson’s program?”
“Nothing about Sanderson. You can give him the names of the men involved in the abduction and their biographical information, but nothing connecting them to Stockholm. Let him draw his own conclusions, while we formulate a strategy to deal with this new threat,” Pushnoy said.
“Understood. Shall I consider Pavrikova a dead end at this point?”
“I think so. We’ll issue a capture-kill bulletin abroad, but I’d be surprised if we ever saw her again.”
“What a fucking mess this has been. The Americans crossed the line on this one,” Ardankin said.
“Everyone went over the line on this one,” Pushnoy corrected. “At least something good came of it. We’ve uncovered a potent threat to Russian Federation security.”
“Potent indeed,” Ardankin said, waiting for Pushnoy to dismiss him.
The director cast his eyes down, examining the file for a few seconds before closing it. “I’ll prepare a briefing for the Prime Minister. Make sure you call Baranov immediately. Don’t bullshit with him. The sooner he’s off your case, the better.”
“Of course, sir,” Ardankin said.
“Don’t wander too far today. I may need you to fill in some of the details for my briefing. Putin will not be pleased with this update. That will be all.”
Ardankin simply nodded, keeping his thoughts, or any visual betrayal of these sentiments, to himself. Pushnoy opened his laptop, which meant the meeting was officially finished. At this point, Ardankin ceased to exist. He turned unceremoniously and approached the conference room door, thinking dangerous thoughts about why Putin wanted Reznikov erased so badly.
Chapter 22
Richard Farrington leaned over the rustic lacquered conference table and examined the map, tracing the routes leading south out of Novosibirsk. He was still unsettled by the clear lack of options for their escape and evasion plan. As always, Petrovich’s assessment had been a “no holds barred,” concise summary of their situation. The first words out of his mouth had been, “I’m glad I won’t be in attendance.” What followed summed up Farrington’s first impression of the job. “Looks like a straightforward deal going in…getting out promises to be a motherfucker. Good luck.” Not exactly the words Sanderson wanted broadcast to the team during the videoconference, but at least his sentiments cleared the air. The group selected for this mission didn’t balk at his pessimism. If anything, they embraced the challenge, which resulted in a robust, yet deeply flawed escape plan.