V. P. Forbes shuffled through papers on the table. "What are you thinking?"
Carr stood, and carried his cup to a credenza. He poured fresh coffee from a carafe, then took a sip before responding. "I don't know, Evan. A lot's happened over a span of a few hours, and the day isn't over yet."
"Well, at least Operation Gold Eagle was a success."
"The bright spot of the day," Carr managed to smile. "But Alpha Tango still hasn't completed the mission. They've gotta find that sonofabitch Reznikov."
Hillman returned and walked near Carr. "Mr. President, the Prowler's scheduled to arrive at Andrews around noon. Miss Pankova will be escorted by agents and taken directly to Langley."
"Good. And NSA?"
"General Prescott is bringing new satellite images taken of Berlin, mostly of the bombed sites."
Carr returned to the head of the table and spun his chair around. "Any additional reports on casualties?"
Hillman shook his head. "Nothing since the announcement about the ambassador. The city's been locked up pretty tight. I think Director Bancroft's bringing transcripts."
V.P. Forbes made a suggestion. "Maybe you should call Gorshevsky. Pick his brain."
"What would be the point, Evan? If anyone were to call, I would think it would be him, digging for information. No. I think I'll wait. Besides, he's got a lot on his mind about these days, especially with Russia becoming more heavily embroiled in Afghanistan."
"Mr. President!" Clark Barry, one of the duty officers of the Sit Room staff, stood near the Watch Room. "I have a secure phone call for you, sir. Do you want me to transfer it?"
Carr rolled his chair back, then stood. "No, Clark, I'll take it in there." Forbes and Hillman shot quick glances at each other, as the President left them.
He walked toward the Watch Room. It must be Grant,he thought. Work continued in the room as the President answered the phone. "Andrew Carr."
"Grant here, Mr. President."
Carr sat on the edge of a desk, keeping the receiver pressed against his ear, and his eyes downcast as he listened to Grant's report.
Finally, Grant finished. "I'm sorry this ended the way it did."
"So am I, Grant, but you learned the truth. That's what mattered."
"Yes, sir. Oh, I don't think I mentioned this, but as a 'just in case' we snapped some photos at the airport. They could be your additional proof, Mr. President."
Both men went quiet. Carr thought about what his next move would be, and the meeting when Dotsenko returned to the States.
Grant finally asked, "Sir, what are your plans for Mr. Dotsenko? I mean, when and how do you want him transported?"
"Confirm for me again that he's safe."
"He is, sir. Doc will remain with him. One of the men will check on them every four hours, sorta like being on 'watch' again." Carr detected a smile in Grant's voice, until Grant said, "I know you're concerned about a possible attack, but if Reznikov holds true to form, he won't do anything in West Berlin. Even if he and his men have new identity papers, their photos have been plastered in every checkpoint building on the Allies' side. That's been confirmed."
"What about on the Russian and East German sides?"
"That had to be one of the first security measures they took, sir."
"Give me a day to work it out. A lot depends on your mission to find Reznikov, too."
"Very well, sir. Oh, one last comment."
"Yes, Grant?"
"The agent, the one I cold-cocked?"
The remark caught Carr off-guard. He stifled a laugh before responding, "I'm listening."
"No regrets, Mr. President!"
In the conference room A.T. waited impatiently for Grant and Adler. Coke cans, candy wrappers littered the table.
The door opened and Grant and Adler walked in. As Adler took a seat, Grant's eyes fell on each man. "I know Joe told you Doc's all right. He's at the Hotel Berliner guarding Dotsenko."
"You got him!" Slade responded, raising a fist.
"Damn straight we did," Grant answered. "By the way, has anyone seen those two 'Cowboys' lately?"
"We saw the Audi parked out back, but haven't seen either one of them. Problem?" Novak asked.
"Not for us," Adler smirked.
Grant pulled out a chair then sat. "Before I fill you in, has it been quiet? Any disturbances or sign of possible Reznikov activity?"
Garrett responded, "Nothing, Grant. We've worked out a schedule with the regular guards, so every point in the compound is covered."
"Thanks, Matt. Now, here's how it went down at Schonefeld."
When he finished, Slade asked, "How come you didn't stash him at the safe house, boss?"
Grant shook his head. "Agency 'peeps' are aware of that place, Ken. Joe and I know the hotel and its security. I want Doc to stay with Dotsenko until we have orders. Set up your own duty roster, because I want someone checking on them every four hours. They're in a double room, accessible through #308. Oh, and arrange it where they get at least three squares a day. There are a few cafes close by."
Garrett asked, "Do you think the Agency has sent their passport photos to hotels, you know, like a 'bolo'?" (Be on the lookout.)
Grant rubbed the back of his neck. "Don't know, Matt. They may not have the authority unless they convince the West German police to cooperate. But we've got proof of the agents' little escapade, and the President's been made aware of it. As an FYI, Doc's using his French passport, Dotsenko, U.S.
"A word of caution: keep an eye out for those two agents. I don't want them getting suspicious if they notice you leaving on a set schedule. You can handle it. Questions?" Silence.
"Now, what I'm about to tell you stays in this room." He glanced at Draper. "Rob, one of us will give you the details later." Draper nodded, then Grant continued. "You all remember our last mission and Nicolai Kalinin."
"Sure, boss," James answered. "The Russian who's your double!" He quickly added, "Sorry, boss. Maybe I shouldn't have said that."
"Not a problem, DJ."
Novak interjected, "And if it wasn't for him, you might not be here."
"That's affirmative, Mike. Well, anyway, I've got a meeting with him tonight."
"No shit?!" echoed from most of the men, as they rolled their chairs closer to the table, anxious to hear more.
Grant proceeded to explain the phone call and place of the meeting. "That's all I can tell you. In the meantime, set up the duty roster. Start time will begin at 2200. We can't take any chances." Grant finally smiled. "Yeah, you already knew all that, but, hey! It's just overly-cautious me."
Gorshevsky sat behind his ornate wooden desk, sliding the empty glass back and forth between his palms. He was expecting the arrival of KGB Director Mikhail Antolov, Minister of Internal Security Vasily Sokoloff, General Vladimir Borskaya, and Lieutenant General Nikita Komarov.
Growing impatient, he swiveled his chair around, and eyed the bottle of Stolichnaya Vodka on the corner of the credenza. After a quick glance at his watch, he unscrewed the cap, and poured another shot. Holding the glass under his nose, he sniffed the sweet aroma, then took a sip, tasting its distinct smoothness. He gulped down the remaining liquid, then rubbed an index finger across his mouth, before eyeing the bottle again. "Enough," he said quietly, before putting the glass on a silver tray on the side of the credenza.
Going to the large plate glass window, he pulled aside the heavy blue drapes, and thought about the unbelievable events in Berlin: the disappearance of Alexei Dotsenko; Ivan Reznikov's escape; and three major bombings, all in the same day, for which no one had claimed responsibility. He was becoming more suspicious, thinking about attacks nearly two years ago, but those were against Americans.