“One of General Sanderson’s operatives walked off a flight in Kiev on Tuesday and disappeared,” Ardankin said.
Several seconds passed in utter silence, which was unusual for the director. Just as Ardankin considered the possibility that their connection had been severed, Pushnoy spoke.
“Three days ago?” Pushnoy asked, his tone clearly implying that the time delay was unforgiveable.
Ardankin chose his words carefully. The Federal Customs Service had reluctantly agreed to add “sanitized” profile photos to their computerized watch list, which was directly linked to Ukrainian Customs. These requests were normally relayed by the Federation Security Service’s counterintelligence branch, but Ardankin wanted to bypass the FSB in this case. He had spent the better part of an hour negotiating a truce with Arkady Baranov, director of the Center for Special Operations (CSN), which included assurances that the Foreign Intelligence Service had closed the case regarding the leak at CSN. He had been instructed not to share information regarding the discovery of a new American covert intelligence group, so it was in his best interest to contact Customs directly to add suspected members of this group to their database.
The downside to concealing the additions to the Customs database came in the form of resource priority. Since the profiles were sanitized, containing no information beyond known aliases and photographs, they would be entered as low priority in the system. The faces would not appear at Customs terminals or be shown to Customs agents at a shift briefing. Customs required information to elevate priority and allocate limited human resources. Ardankin’s hands were tied, since the information would raise eyebrows and result in an immediate phone call to the Customs Service’s FSB liaison, exposing his sidestep. The best they could expect was a possible match through automated facial recognition sweeps of passport and Customs checkpoint photos. Frankly, Ardankin was surprised they got a hit on one of the profiles at all.
“Bureaucracy at its worst, sir. Customs is 82 % sure that Richard Farrington presented an Australian passport at Kiev Zhuliany International,” Ardankin said finally.
“And he disappeared?”
“His Australian cover hasn’t been used since the airport, sir.”
“Disturbing,” Pushnoy stated.
“How do you want me to proceed?”
“This stays internal. Activate and deploy everyone at your disposal and start working Kiev. Train stations, rental car agencies, buses…I want to know where he is headed.”
“Understood. We’ll start in Kiev and expand. I’ll contact Customs and have them implement search protocols based on his Australian cover. I doubt he is alone. We may get lucky,” Ardankin said.
“Don’t count on it. I want this man in custody before he can do any damage. Contact me directly regarding your progress. I have to go.”
The line went dead, leaving Ardankin with his mouth open, ready to respond. He’d call Customs anyway. It was always better to cast a wider net, especially when they had no idea what they were looking for. He’d narrow the search parameters to males between the ages of 20–50 entering Russia with an Australian passport within the past five days. The list might be extensive, but the FIS had the manpower to sort through the names looking for anomalies. They’d find something.
He checked his email for the file promised by Customs, finding that it had arrived during his terse conversation with his director. He opened the email attachment, which generated a full-screen Customs layout comparing two pictures of Richard Farrington. The leftmost photograph had been provided to Customs by Ardankin, showing Farrington in a U.S. Army uniform. He’d found this picture in one of the SVR’s routine archival snapshots of Pentagon personnel. Unlike the old days, when pictures like these were taken by spies with 35mm cameras, Farrington’s picture came directly from the Pentagon’s database.
The rightmost picture contained the slightly altered Richard Farrington. Clearly, the Americans hadn’t gone to extensive lengths to alter his appearance, which surprised him, given the fact that one of their operatives had recently disappeared in Munich. This General Sanderson, or whoever was pulling the strings, should have known that Herr Hubner would eventually break, exposing details that could compromise their program. Then again, maybe information within the group was compartmentalized. They’d never know, since Herr Hubner managed to end his interrogation early.
Ardankin sat back and stared at the two photos. There was no doubt it was the same person. His eyebrows had been artificially thickened, which was one of the easiest, but most effective ways to alter an appearance. His cheeks looked fuller, indicating the use of an oral implant. Another subtle, yet effective way to throw off facial recognition software. His natural blue eyes were hidden behind brown contact lenses. Changing eye color was a tactic used to fool humans, but had little effect on computer recognition algorithms. Farrington wasn’t taking the chance that his photo might have been distributed to customs checkpoints. Finally, his hair appeared darker and longer. A modest hairpiece that didn’t attract attention, but significantly differed from the close-cropped military haircut in his Pentagon photo.
Surface cosmetics. Nothing that would fool sophisticated software, but not a bad effort for an operative that didn’t want to undergo minor plastic surgery…or didn’t have time to. This last thought lingered, hanging over Ardankin like a death threat. He shook his head slowly, agonizing over his reaction to the thought. There was something there, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. He closed his eyes for a moment and cleared his mind, breathing deeply. A momentary meditation to eliminate the clutter. Less than five seconds later his eyes flashed open.
Richard Farrington hadn’t been concerned with defeating facial recognition software. He knew it would take days for the system to detect his entry, at which point he had already long abandoned the identity used to arrive in Kiev. Even after discovering his entry, it could take days or weeks to generate another lead. Best-case scenario, they’d find his next travel connection within a day or two. Add more time to prosecute leads at the end of that connection, assuming he was smart and didn’t travel directly to his final destination. Unless the American made a rookie mistake, it could take them a week to finally catch up with Farrington. He had to have known this. The American’s mission would take place within the next few days. Ardankin had no time to waste.
First, he’d activate all of their Ukrainian-based agents, augmenting the effort with additional agents from Poland, Belarus and Romania. If necessary, he could deploy more agents from Moscow, though he preferred to use Directorate S assets stationed in the field. The last thing he needed was an out-of-practice headquarters-based agent blowing his or her cover in Kiev and casting a light on the entire operation.
He opened one of the classified directories on his computer and searched for the number he needed, quickly finding it. Feliks Yeshevsky ran their Ukrainian operations, directing the efforts of five native Ukrainian field agents based out of Kiev. He’d proven extremely resourceful in tracking down Reznikov’s Stockholm address and had never failed to produce results in the past. Still, Ardankin hesitated.
Yeshevsky had a reputation for brutality that could turn into a liability during a systematic canvassing effort. His methods were better suited for a more targeted approach to acquiring intelligence. Ardankin considered the alternatives and decided that Yeshevsky represented their best hope of quickly rediscovering Farrington’s trail. He’d have to trust Yeshevsky’s judgment, which was a better option than importing less capable agents into a foreign country and starting them from scratch. He dialed the Ukrainian number, apprehensive about where all of this was headed.