“I’ll call Semion immediately. As for you,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “it is time for you to travel east.”
Valery nodded once and met his steely gaze. “We need to ensure that the American team destroys this bioweapons laboratory…without leaving any traces of our involvement.”
“Provide anything they request, as long as it is untraceable. Money is not an issue, but take care not to attract undue attention. Under no circumstances are any of your men to participate in the actual attack on Vektor. The Americans must do the dirty work. If the government suspects our involvement, all hell will break loose. I will trust your judgment on how to proceed. You are my most trusted associate, Valery. The potential reward for our success is immeasurable. I don’t have to remind you about the consequences for our failure. We sink or swim together on this one, my friend,” Penkin said.
“I won’t fail you, brother,” Valery assured him. “The crew in Novosibirsk is rock solid.”
Penkin stood up from his chair, prompting Yuri to do the same out of respect. He placed a hand on Yuri’s left shoulder and pulled him in for a hug, whispering into his ear.
“Keep a close eye on everyone involved during the operation. Trust nobody. Word of this must not filter back to our Pakhan. Not yet. Make sure to take a few highly trusted soldiers with you, but keep them out of sight,” Penkin said.
Valery cocked his head in a quizzical manner.
“I may require a more permanent solution to keep the Novosibirsk crew silent,” Penkin said.
He could tell that Valery was uncomfortable with the suggestion, and rightly so. Killing their own people to keep this secret left broader implications. Once it started, where did it stop? He was no doubt wondering about his own longevity, which could only be expected.
“We will strive to avoid this, but the secret must be contained for our plan to work. And this is our plan now,” he said, hoping that this provided a modicum of reassurance.
He had no intention of eliminating Valery, unless his most trusted boyevik decided to take advantage of the situation. Needless to say, he’d keep a close eye on the young man. Matvey Penkin had risen to the rank of brigadier in the Solntsevskaya Bratva by taking risks and following one simple mantra: Trust nobody.
PART TWO
BET IT ALL ON BLACK
Chapter 27
Darryl Jackson stared at his BlackBerry screen for several moments, listening to the artificial sound of crickets chirping. He seriously debated whether to take the call. Reluctantly, he pressed the green receive button.
“No,” he said into the phone.
“Is that any way to treat a good friend?” the familiar voice asked.
“The answer to whatever you are about to ask is no. Actually, it’s more like hell no,” Jackson said.
“What makes you think this isn’t a social call? I’m not allowed to call a longtime friend anymore?”
“Karl, including today, I can count the number of times you’ve called my office at eight in the morning on my middle finger, which is currently extended facing north toward your office. You can redirect one of your surveillance satellites to confirm this, unless you need my help with that too,” Jackson said.
“I’ve called you at the office before,” Berg said.
“That’s right. I remember a late afternoon just a few years ago when you called asking for a favor. That didn’t work out very well for me. Then it happened again a few months ago. Same result. Less than a month ago, another call comes through and suddenly I’m sitting on an airplane headed to bum fuck Pennsylvania with a cache of illegal weapons, which was returned to me dirty,” he whispered. “So the answer is fuck no, to whatever you are asking.”
“I need help with something overseas. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Berg said.
“Does your agency have any organic assets at its disposal? Why the fuck am I still paying taxes to the government?”
“Here’s the situation,” Berg started.
“I didn’t say I wanted to hear about it,” Jackson cut in.
“Of course you do. I’m running a critical national security operation out of Kazakhst—”
“Sorry. Can’t help you. I’m not exactly on good terms with our office in Astana after the unfortunate loss of several assault rifles. That was your fault by the way. Just wanted to remind you in case your memory doesn’t extend more than two months into the past. Look. I’m due in a meeting here shortly and—”
“I need six men at the minimum. They can split four hundred thousand dollars. I just need them to babysit some important equipment in southeastern Kazakhstan. This is a middle-of-fucking-nowhere camping trip,” Berg said.
“Six contractors won’t be easy to swing,” Jackson said, suddenly interested in the proposal. “The office isn’t that big.”
“Four hundred and fifty thousand. All you have to do is find six guys willing to give up a week of vacation to sit in the middle of nowhere and make half of their annual salary. Tax-free. I know these guys pull this kind of shit all the time. Seventy-five grand for sitting on their asses, cradling AK-74s. I’d be willing to bet that the entire office would close down for thirty thousand apiece.”
Jackson sighed. “No funny bullshit on this one?”
“Not for them. They’ll keep an eye on some refueling gear and about 2000 gallons of aviation fuel. No smoking.”
“What the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?”
“We’re closing the loop on this whole Zulu virus thing,” Berg said.
“I thought you took care of that in Kazakhstan.”
“We did, but it wasn’t the original source of the virus,” Berg said.
“Shit,” Jackson muttered.
“Shit might be an understatement when this is finished. I’ll pass you the coordinates when available. I expect them soon. We’ll do our best to make the site accessible by vehicle. No promises.”
“Timeline?” Jackson asked.
“Your people on site within forty-eight hours. We have a limited window for the use of some very specialized helicopters, which is why your people might have to spend some time out in the desert. I have to put this gear out there before that window closes. I don’t have a solid execution time for the rest of my operation, but I’m told no more than five to seven days from now. Combat controllers will relieve your men roughly twenty-four hours prior to the raid.”
“I thought you were close to retirement age, Karl.”
“Oh, I’ll probably be forced into retirement after this one,” Berg said.
“Or into hiding.”
“The thought has crossed my mind. Now that your kids are out of the house, how do you feel about house guests?”
“Let me run that by Cheryl.” Jackson chuckled. “I’ll get back to you next year.”
“I’m still waiting for that dinner invitation,” Berg said.
“Yeah, well, I’m still trying to explain why Cheryl could hear a jet taking off in the background of one of my phone calls…when I was supposed to be watching over my daughter in Princeton. There’s no fucking airport in Princeton, Karl.”
“You called her from the airport in Pennsylvania?”