"Nick, all I can say is, I'm mighty glad we've become friends — if you get my drift!" He glanced out the windshield, then side window. "We've gotta go. Joe, you head out first. I'll meet you at the car."
Adler reached over the front seat, offering a hand to Kalinin. "Nick, you take care of yourself. Maybe we'll talk before we fly outta here."
"Thanks, Joe."
Adler got out and walked away, not hurrying, but keeping up a steady pace.
Before he lost sight of Adler, Grant grabbed Kalinin's hand. "Nick, again, thanks for your help on this one. I wish we could've done more or at least filled you in, but that's the way it had to be."
"No problem, Grant. I was pretty much able to fill in the blanks anyway."
"Thought you would! Oh, one suggestion. I know you've already got two tapes, but think about another copy, in case you've gotta turn both of those over. CYA, my friend."
"CYA?" Kalinin asked with wrinkled brow.
"Cover your ass!"
The Russian laughed. "Oh, yeah. Hadn't heard that for a while! But I'll take care of it. Do you need a copy?"
"Only if you can get it to me without running into trouble."
After he got out of the car, Grant ducked down, and looked over the top of his sunglasses. "Listen, have Antolov call me if he has any questions!" He flashed a grin through perfect white teeth, then closed the door and took off after Adler.
A.T. sat in the conference room, reviewing a hand-drawn map of the property and Reznikov's hideout. Gear was ready, weapons loaded. All they needed was the plan of attack.
In the scrambler room, Grant and Adler put a call through to Scott Mullins. They couldn't delay any longer in getting the answer to the question: What the hell were they to do with Alexei Dotsenko?
After giving Mullins updates, and an overview on how they found Reznikov's hiding place, Grant couldn't leave it up to Mullins to pass the intel onto the White House. He'd have to take the responsibility and tell the President himself.
"Scott, we don't have much time, but if you can hook me up, I think it'd be best if I talk directly with the President. May as well get my ass reamed now."
"Hold on, Grant, and, good luck."
Carr answered the call on his scrambler. "Grant? What's wrong?"
"I'm not sure how to answer that, sir. I mean everyone's okay, including Mr. Dotsenko."
"Then, what is it?!"
"Sir, we've discovered where Reznikov's hiding out."
"You found him?!"
"I should rephrase that, sir. We know of his last hiding place, but we're pretty damn sure he's still there. Since he usually attacks during daylight hours, tonight might be our best, and maybe our last shot. The op should be underway no later than 2300 our time."
"You haven't heard about him launching an attack, have you? Our intel hasn't picked up anything."
"No, sir, nothing definitive, but we do know that the Premier and his party are to arrive in East Berlin sometime tomorrow afternoon. That could be his next target." Grant waited for the big question.
"Captain, how did you find him?"
That was the question. "Mr. President, I know you recall the name Nicolai Kalinin."
"Sure, but … Hold it!" Carr spun his chair around. "Was he your informant?!"
Grant cleared his throat. "Sir, if you'll bear with me, I'll try and explain." Hearing nothing but Carr's breathing, Grant continued. "Nick's been assigned to the embassy as KGB. He was in charge of the investigation after Dotsenko, uh, disappeared, and then the search for Reznikov."
"Jesus Christ!" the President said quietly, between clenched teeth.
Grant grimaced. He had no choice but to finish. "Let me clarify, sir, that he doesn't have any information on Dotsenko. Nick contacted me; we met and decided to work together on finding Reznikov." Before Carr could say anything, Grant added, "But it turned out to be more, sir, a helluva lot more."
"I'm listening."
"Mr. President, with tremendous G2 skills, Nick not only found the location of the hideout, but he found the person who was the group's handler, and the … "
Carr waited, but he knew it wasn't like Grant to have so much hesitation. "Finish, Grant!"
"We know who was behind the attacks on the barracks, the ambassador, and the others. Nick has the handler's confession on tape, reasons why, and person identified. No bull, sir, just facts."
"You can tell me anytime you're ready, Captain, but it'd better be damn soon."
Grant just blurted it out. "Premier Gorshevsky, Mr. President. He was the cause of all those deaths and destruction."
Not what Carr expected. "Holy … Grant, any chance that's a mistake?" he asked in a low voice.
"No, sir. None, Mr. President." Silence. Grant finally spoke. "Nick has the handler in custody, and he has the tapes. All are secured. He's assumed responsibility for taking the tapes to Director Antolov when he arrives in East Berlin."
"What are his chances for making that 'stick'?"
"I'll think he'll do fine."
"And can you trust him about withholding the 'non-information' on Dotsenko?"
"He knows Dotsenko is missing but not where he is. As far as who kidnapped him, well, that's pure conjecture. If he's questioned, he'll be telling the truth without giving us away. And can I trust him? With my life, Mr. President."
"He sounds like a younger version of Colonel Moshenko, Grant."
"I believe he is. Oh, about Mr. Dotsenko. Doc is still with him at the hotel, and I'd like your permission to have him escorted to the Gulfstream before our mission. The camera with photos from the airport, his Russian passport and airline ticket are secured. Two or three men will remain with him on board. I'll direct Matt to depart at 0500 — with or without everyone."
"Just how much trouble are you expecting?"
"Well, sir, from what we've been told, Reznikov's hideout is loaded with explosives, both inside and out. We know where and how the handler placed them, but the group could've changed or added anything. And apparently, they have a sh… — a stockpile buried on the property."
Carr blew out a breath, as he swiveled in his chair. As much as he wanted Reznikov on U.S. soil, facing prosecution … "Grant, I would like some form of proof that you got him, but you let your mission 'play out' the best way possible. Is that clear?"
"Completely, sir."
"All right. Contact Agent Mullins when the Gulfstream's two hours out from Stateside. Secret Service agents will be ready at Andrews. Godspeed, Captain."
Team A.T. sat around the table, listening to a brief overview Grant was giving on his call to the President. Then, Grant asked, "Who went to the hotel last?"
"I did, boss," James replied. "Everything was quiet. I brought them dinner."
"Thanks, DJ." He focused on Garrett and Draper. "Matt, Rob, you're to pick up Doc and Dotsenko, then go directly to Schonefeld. Before you leave here, put most of the gear and weapons in the second vehicle.
"Listen, Matt, if none of us make it to you by 0500, you're to depart immediately. Be sure to notify Scott when you're a couple of hours from the States. Secret Service will be waiting at Andrews."
"Understand," Garrett nodded. "What time should we leave here?"
"Now, before it gets too dark."
As Garrett and Draper rolled their chairs back, Garrett asked, "Do we need to contact Doc ahead of time?"
"Negative. Even though you're passing through Checkpoint Charlie, maybe you'd all better use your U.S. passports."
Garrett reached for Grant's hand. "Take care of yourself. We'll see you all in the a.m."