“He was aware of our interest in this name and as such, knowing that he was probably the only Russian agent party to this information, made the calls to his handlers.”
“Calls?” queried Surkov with some confusion.
“When he was inserted, it was a joint GRU/KGB operation. He had two handlers myself and the Director of the Science division at KGB.”
“Surely two handlers doubled the chance of interception?”
“We had had a number of high profile embarrassments. The Americans had been playing GRU and KGB off against one another. The two contacts would ensure the same Intel was relayed to both agencies directly from the agent, without any political interference.”
Surkov nodded, he understood the political interference referred to in-fighting between the two agencies for control. In principle, the idea was sound.
“Of course, it was a disaster. You were right. The number of agents arrested increased dramatically and shortly after, the trial was abandoned. To be honest, this agent is probably the only one who still operates under joint control. He is of course unaware of any changes to operational procedure. This would never be sent in an update in case of interception. He is simply aware of areas of interest to us.”
Surkov shook his head in amazement. Thirty years on, this man gained information and followed the protocols learned a generation earlier and fulfilled his promise to his motherland. He was without a doubt a true hero to his country.
“So who received the other call?”
“The Director of Science Department at SVR.”
“Mikhail Beryutov?” asked Surkov, very aware of the name.
Borodin nodded.
Surkov nodded knowingly. There was no need to discuss the fact that he was no longer an issue.
“And?”
“I dispatched two agents as a matter of urgency, the closest were SVR. So, using Beryutov as cover, I ordered them to Fox’s last known location to deal with any loose ends.”
Again Surkov nodded. He understood the reference to loose ends. There was no need for Borodin to explicitly say the killing of the widow and child.
Surkov waited for Borodin to restart but he remained silent. As far as Borodin was concerned, Surkov appeared to know everything he was telling him and he was simply going over old ground.
“Continue,” commanded Surkov with an almost regal wave of his hand.
Borodin almost tore the arm off of the sofa as he fought to stop himself from ripping the old man’s throat out. He grimaced before continuing. His ability to smile had all but left his body.
“Our agents went in but as they were about to carry out their orders, Sean Fox appeared and as far as they were concerned, their orders no longer stood.”
“Why exactly?” criticized Surkov acidly.
“If Sean Fox was alive, how could they kill his widow?”
Surkov smiled wryly at the rationality of the agents’ actions.
“They have been dealt with!” explained Borodin dryly, removing Surkov’s smile.
“And what of Sean Fox?”
“He is of no concern. I have a team arriving in the next couple of hours,” replied Borodin with some conviction. He was beginning to exert his authority on the situation. He had had enough of the games and wanted some answers himself.
“Now tell me why he is of such interest?”
“He is not of any interest,” replied Surkov simply.
Borodin sat bolt upright. “Sorry?”
“I am not the least bit interested in Sean Fox.”
“But you issued the original request to have him killed if he surfaced, some five years ago?”
“Yes but he is not of interest!”
“So what is he?” asked Borodin, following on from Surkov’s hint in emphasizing interest.
“The single biggest risk to our country since the end of Communism.”
Chapter 31
Luis shook his head. These Americans always talked in riddles. They could never just say what they meant. The woman was curled in a ball crying her eyes out while the American sat hopelessly looking at her with large sad eyes. He picked up his Desert Eagle and turned his attention to the TV. The pictures of the armored personnel carriers on the bridge had just started beaming live as he joined the coverage.
As the graphic image of the Colonel’s head exploding on live TV hit the screen, he preyed to God that his uncle was not the gunman and it was some rogue imbecile that had killed the American officer. However, he knew deep in his heart that his prayers would not be answered favorably. It was exactly the type of insane stunt his uncle would pull.
“Oh fuck!” exclaimed Sean as he witnessed the killing.
Katie looked up and caught the body hitting the ground. All she cared about in the world was her son and the pictures on the screen were not of a young boy. She turned and buried her head further into the sofa, wishing everybody would leave and her son and Sean were back home and everything was back to normal. Something she knew life would never happen.
Sean stole a look at Katie, he wanted to help her, needed to help her. But he knew the last thing she wanted at that time was help from a man whom she had thought was her husband miraculously arisen from the grave.
He looked at Luis and from the look on his face, he knew things had just got even worse. “Your uncle?”
Luis didn’t even think before nodding. “Probably!” his eyes glued to the continuing coverage of the soldiers being killed.
“Fuck!!” repeated Sean with more conviction.
As the screen showed the lonely body of Colonel Masters abandoned in the middle of the Juarez-Lincoln International Bridge, Sean considered what he had just witnessed and the implications. Two things were obvious, the border was going to be shut for some time and Luis’ uncle was a fucking good shot.
“Jesus H Christ!!” exclaimed the Governor. It had been less than half an hour since he had spoken with the Colonel.
“Governor, what are you going to do?” came numerous shouts as the press in the room remembered their purpose.
The Governor just stared at the monitor and the man whom he had ordered to defend the honor of his state and country. The somber picture would grace many front pages that morning. Without a word, he stepped away from the monitor and began to push his way through the crowd that had gathered.
“What are you going to do, Mr Governor?” The shouts became louder and more insistent as he reached the double doors he had so nearly exited a few very different minutes earlier. He had insisted, despite Masters’ concerns that they make a big show of the National Guard. It hadn’t been needed of course. The police and border guards were more than capable of closing and securing the crossings in a far less ostentatious way. Eight fucking guardsmen. When that became public, he’d be a laughing stock.
One thing was for certain. Whoever the fucker was that had cost him the presidency was going to pay. It was a defiant Governor that turned to face the press.
“Gentlemen…Ladies,” he nodded to the two female reporters.
“I am going to make a call to our President and insist that we retaliate with the utmost force and speed to ensure that the perpetrators of this heinous crime are brought to justice.”
The Governor’s jaw wavered as he spoke, the anger and emotion clear for all to see.
“And when I say justice,” he looked directly into one of the main networks cameras. “I mean I will not rest until those murdering motherfuckers are dead!” he pointed violently towards the monitor depicting the scene on the bridge before turning and leaving the room.
When Sean’s cell phone began to ring just a few minutes after the governor’s speech, he wasn’t surprised it was Vincent. Although, as he thought about it, nobody else had his number, so it really couldn’t have been anyone else.