“Well?” boomed the General pacing the office in an attempt to prolong his patience.
The chief designer called back to his office and had every system component checked and triple checked.
“Everything is working correctly, General…”
“Obviously fucking not!” he blasted, not allowing the designer the chance to finish his sentence.
“… so the problem must be with Major Pushkin’s handset,” he offered timidly.
“And?”
“We have sent an update to his handset. The next time it is switched on, it will connect instantly to us and if it is a software fault, we can fix it from here. If not, I’m afraid there is little I can do.”
Borodin turned and looked out of the window.
“Vasiliy get him out of here before I do something I might not regret!”
By the time Vasiliy had turned to the designer, his back was already disappearing out of the door.
As Vasiliy shut the door behind the designer, he asked what Pushkin had said.
“I asked him 'done?’ and he answered yes. Then the line cut.”
“So Sean Fox is dead?” clarified Vasiliy.
“Yes, I suppose he is,” smiled Borodin,
“Will I get Dr Surkov on the phone?” suggested Vasiliy.
Borodin’s mood turned full circle as he realized Vasiliy was absolutely right. Now he had an excuse to call Surkov.
“Excellent idea Vasiliy. Best use the old fashioned land line though,” he laughed.
Chapter 44
As he stepped down from the lectern, Governor Rick Brown smiled to himself. Even if he said so himself, that was the speech that would make him president. Shouts as to whether he was running were ignored. There were people whose loved ones had died. Next stop for the Governor was to pay his respects to the widows and children of the murdered guardsmen. Phone calls had already been made to the widows by his office and significant benevolent funds allocated for them and their children. None would ever need to work again or worry about how they would fund their children’s education. However, Governor Rick Brown would have done the same whether Sean Fox had saved his presidential chances or not. He lived by his father’s morals and always did the right thing. Those men died because of Rick Brown’s actions and their families would not suffer because of them.
The pictures of Colonel Masters’ wife hugging the governor like a long lost son as a result were just a fortunate by-product. But then that was what his father had always told him. Son, you reap what you sew! Rick Brown took responsibility for his actions and as a result was rewarded.
Vincent listened as Governor Brown regained his number one contender slot. Thank God it had paid off. As far as he was concerned, the number two was a nightmare and as for the Democrats, they had lost their way entirely. As far as the CIA was concerned, Rick Brown was the best candidate for the job and knowing he owed them was no bad thing. All in all a good morning’s work.
He clicked off the screen and returned to the rather more pressing matter of Mike Ritter and Captain John Kenny. The timing of their two reports was coincidental, but added to the report of an alleged Aeroflot plane landing at Laredo, it was, to say the least, concerning.
Vincent had been trying for hours to reach Sean but no luck, his phone rang unanswered. He had eventually resorted to calling Katie but that had resulted in nothing more than a tearful one-way conversation that he desperately tried to extricate himself from without sounding like a total and complete bastard.
Something big was going down and whatever it was, Sean was the key. For whatever reason, the Russians were interested in him. He just had to find out why. Of course the easiest solution to that problem was Sean but with no way of contacting him, it was down to Vincent to get every available resource to find out what was going on and whether, as Ritter had predicted, the cold war had merely thawed.
Before he could begin to think the worst, a knock on the door disturbed him. His assistant, Jane, entered.
“Sir, we’ve got a hit on Sean Fox’ name at the State Department.”
“It’s barely 8.00!”
“I know but a request has just been filed to allow him to accompany Governor Brown to Moscow as a bodyguard.”
Vincent didn’t know where to start with the number of points that concerned him with regard to the news. However, one did stand head and shoulders above the rest, Governor Brown was visiting Moscow?
“Find out when and get Ritter in here yesterday!” he barked, the sudden increase in Russian activity with the number one contender for US President about to visit the country was not sitting well.
“And keep trying to get me Sean Fox!” he shouted through the closing door.
A similar message hit General Borodin’s desk not long after Vincent Black’s. A flag for anything referring to the name Sean Fox was also in place. Due to the timescales of Governor Brown’s request, it was fast tracked by the State Department directly to Moscow for a special VISA to be authorized which would allow Sean Fox to be armed.
As Borodin read the request, a mild panic set in. “I thought Pushkin had taken care of this?” he asked Vasiliy as he finished reading the request.
Vasiliy was ready for the question as he himself had asked the same question on reading the request.
“Look at the timing of the request.” He leant over and pointed at the 7.03 a.m. time stamp on the original request.
“Ah,” the form had been sent before Pushkin had relayed Fox’ untimely death. “Well, let’s not disappoint them, issue the VISA with immediate effect,” he smiled, handing the form back to Vasiliy.
“Of course, General,” offered Vasiliy before leaving the office and returning to his desk.
Vasiliy picked up the phone and called the head of the VISA department.
“Gregor, issue the VISA with immediate effect,” he commanded.
“I’ll have it done by the end of the day,” replied Gregor cheerily.
“Sorry, Gregor, General Borodin said immediate,” emphasized Vasiliy, knowing that when Borodin said immediate he very much meant it.
“But we have standard checks and procedures to follow. What if he has a criminal record or is not fire arm trained?”
Vasiliy didn’t have time for this. “I expect a copy of his approved VISA within the next five minutes!” he barked, before ending the call.
It took less than three.
Vincent looked up as the knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He expected to see Ritter. Instead, Jane rushed in.
“Sir, State Department have just called regarding the Sean Fox flag,” she said breathlessly.
“What now?”
“His VISA’s been approved!”
“Excellent,” he replied and returned his attention to his computer screen.
“But that’s the thing, that doesn’t happen.”
“They don’t approve requests?”
“Not in less than fifteen minutes.”
“How long do they normally take?”
“The quickest on record, a very rushed one with a personal request from the President was 36 hours!”
Vincent’s interest went from just over 0 to 100 % in an instant in what his assistant was saying, as did his concern for Sean’s wellbeing.
“Shit, did you get a hold of Sean?”
“No and no sightings since he left the border complex this morning.”
Vincent feared the worst. The Russians were sticklers for process and detail. The only way they would have happily issued a VISA was because they knew he wasn’t able to use it.
“What about the team at Corpus? Get me the team leader,” he snapped, his heart was racing as he feared the worst.
“I’ll try but they’re probably still in the air,” replied Jane, rushing back to her desk.
“Wait, what do you mean they’re probably still in the air? Who ordered them back?!!” he almost screamed as the panic of losing Sean again set in.