"It's not like it's the first time," Lamont muttered.
"I don't think you need to worry about noise," Stephanie said. "I searched through our satellite archives and found pictures of the villa. It's isolated. The house is surrounded by thick hedges on three sides. You could set off a bomb in there and no one would hear it."
"Inside, maybe," Nick said. "Sound carries a long way in the country. Let's see the pictures."
Stephanie clicked her mouse and a satellite photograph of the villa and grounds appeared on the wall monitor. The house was large with a slate roof. A high stone wall with a gate ran across the front of the property along the main road. A long, white gravel drive led straight and flat from the road to the house. Behind the house was a field with rows of grapevines laid out in a neat grid. There were several outbuildings scattered around the villa and another, larger building in back. A tractor was parked next to it.
"What's that building in the back?" Nick asked.
"It's where they crush the grapes," Stephanie said. "You can see an access road from the vineyard that goes right to it."
"The little old winemaker," Lamont said. "Makes me glad I drink beer, if guys like Gutenberg are the ones who make the wine."
"Pretty easy to figure out you drink beer," Ronnie said. "You really gotta work on that gut you're getting."
Harker cleared her throat, loudly. "Focus, please."
"We'll need the jet," Nick said. "Diplomatic papers to get our gear through customs. We can fly into Caen and drive from there. Steph, can you get us a floor plan?"
"I'll search the city archives at Caen. There might be something there. "
"It's not a good idea to go in there blind. That's a big house. It's going to have a lot of rooms."
"I'll task infrared surveillance on the villa," Elizabeth said. "It will tell us how many people are inside and where they are. The Pentagon has upgraded most of the satellite cameras with new technology. It almost makes the roof and walls invisible."
Nick nodded his head. "That will help a lot."
"What are we taking?" Ronnie asked.
"It's a straightforward mission, in and out. The usual stuff. Vests, MP-5s, with silencers. Flash bangs, night vision gear. Comm gear."
"C4?"
"No, but take grenades."
"Frags or offensive?"
"Both."
"Aren't all grenades offensive?" Selena asked. "I mean, it's not exactly a defensive weapon."
"Those are two different types," Ronnie said. "Frag grenades send shrapnel everywhere. Offensive grenades are small bombs with a five second fuse. They're good inside a bunker or a building."
"How do you tell them apart?"
"You're familiar with the frag type. The offensive grenades look like a shaving cream can. They're marked so you know what they are."
"Oh, that's helpful," Selena said.
CHAPTER 47
In Moscow, late snow had buried the promise of spring. No one was surprised. It was always too cold or too hot in Moscow, too wet or too dry. The one thing you could count on was that whatever kind of day it was could change at any moment.
That was as true for Alexei Vysotsky as it was for the weather.
Vysotsky stood at parade rest in front of the desk of the Director of SVR, Boris Vishinski. Vishinski sat in a brown, high back leather chair, studying Vysotsky's report on the interrogation of Konstantine Kamarov. Vishinski had total control of the largest intelligence network in the world. It made him the most dangerous man in Russia.
Standing behind Vishinski was a tall, hawk faced man in civilian clothes. General Kiril Golovkin was head of the GRU, Russian Military Intelligence. Vysotsky had worked with him often and knew him well. He was intelligent and ruthless, a nationalist and a patriot. He wore a patch over his left eye, a gift of the Chechen separatists.
Vysotsky had taken a chance coming here. If Vishinski was part of the plot, Alexei knew he'd be dead by nightfall.
"Where is Kamarov now, General?"
"In a private medical facility where no one will find him," Vysotsky said. "I thought it best to keep him alive for trial and further interrogation."
Vishinski nodded. "Your report says his nephew arranged the attack on the train and the assassination of your men. Have you arrested him?"
"No, sir. That is for you to decide. Without his uncle to give him directions, I feel he can do little damage. I thought he should be left in place until you decide what to do."
"What do you think we should do?" Golovkin asked.
Vysotsky didn't hesitate. "He is a traitor to the motherland. He should be interrogated and shot."
"Sometimes you are so very old-school," Vishinski said. "It's one of the things I appreciate about you, General. In this case you are absolutely right."
Vysotsky felt himself relax, just a little.
"Stand at ease, General. You are making me nervous."
"Sir." He allowed himself to stand easy.
"You have displayed considerable initiative in this matter. It must have been rather confrontational for you, no?"
"Sir?"
"I'm talking about risk. You took a great personal risk in going after Kamarov like that. Why did you do it?"
"Konstantine Kamarov is a pig, feeding on the spoils of our nation. If I'd tried to go through channels and accused him, he would have made sure the accusation turned back on me. I'd be pictured as someone angling for his nephew's job, someone jealous of Kamarov's success and wealth."
"That thought had occurred to me as I was reading your report," Vishinski said. "I understand your caution. But it still does not explain your actions."
"He is responsible for the deaths of my men. That alone would be reason enough for me. He's a traitor. He had to be brought down, one way or another."
Golovkin nodded once, in agreement.
"Take a team and arrest Vladimir Kamarov immediately," Vishinski said. "As of now, you are the new deputy director."
"Thank you, sir."
"You will retain command of Zaslon."
"Sir."
"Put together a plan for elimination of this group, AEON. Subject to my approval, you will put it into effect," Vishinsky said. "I will want daily progress reports but nothing in writing. Make sure nothing leads back to us. The names in this report are too important. The British Chancellor of the Exchequer and the French Foreign Minister, for starters. It's unbelievable. There's even a U.S. Senator."
"It explains a lot, doesn't it?" Vysotsky said.
"How do you mean?"
"The sanctions, the propaganda, the false accusations of atrocities while they secretly create crisis after crisis. All designed to turn world opinion against us. These men in AEON have been manipulating events for years. They are driving us to war."
"All the more reason we must stop them," Golovkin said.
"The world will be destroyed if there is war," Vysotsky said.
"Yes," Vishinski said. "So you had better get to work."
CHAPTER 48
The mission was a go.
They landed in France in the late afternoon. Their diplomatic papers took them through customs without trouble or an inspection that would have turned up the arsenal they'd brought with them. They rented a nondescript van and loaded an aluminum trunk holding their gear into the back. Gutenberg's wine country retreat was about an hour from the Caen airport. Selena drove. Her fluent French would smooth things if there were any problems along the way.
"I always wanted to come here," Nick said. "We're close to the beaches where the Brits and Canadians landed on D-Day. They thought they'd take Caen on the first day but the Germans had other ideas. It took two months before the battle was over."
"Wasn't the city almost destroyed?" Selena asked.