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"Not that I was aware of."

"Mr. Dotsenko," Carr began, "none of us in this room can fully appreciate what you were willing to do, but there's more to the story, isn't there?"

"Yes. When I learned Sophia was safe, there's no way to explain how I felt, Mr. President. But I had made a deal, and I was prepared to see it through."

"Then what changed your mind?!"

"It was something Captain Stevens said before I left with the two agents."

"And that was?"

"I asked him if she was all right, if her cover had been compromised, but he side-stepped the question. Right then and there I knew she had most likely gone through interrogation. I had a vision in my mind, and what I saw broke my heart, Mr. President.

"Captain Stevens asked me how Sophia would react if I didn't return to America. I knew she sacrificed so much." Dotsenko paused, as his eyes pooled with tears. He drew in a breath, then said, "I made my decision to return to the U.S. on the way to Schonefeld, but realized it was too late." He glanced at Grant then Adler. "That is, until I was given a second chance."

"Mr. Dotsenko, why didn't you just tell the agents who escorted you, that you changed your mind?" Carr asked.

"Mr. President, I didn't know what their orders were if I suddenly refused to return to Russia." The silence in the room was almost overpowering.

Grant shifted in the chair, amazed at the response. But now he waited for the final question: Who? Who convinced Dotsenko to return to Russia, without the President's knowledge?

"Mr. Dotsenko, can you tell me who the person was that asked you to give up everything here, and return to Russia?" Dotsenko brought his hands together in the shape of a teepee, tapping them nervously against his mouth. Carr tried to sound reassuring. "Sir, I promise, you will be protected. You have nothing to fear."

"Mr. President, my conversations were with Mr. George Platt."

Carr flopped back against his chair, totally taken aback. He looked toward the Watch Room, and slid a finger across his throat. The recording was stopped.

Grant and Adler turned toward each other, both of them slowly shaking their heads in disbelief. Adler mouthed the words: Holy fuck.

George Platt. Deputy Director of the CIA, reporting to Director Bancroft.

Carr rolled his chair back and stood. "Mr. Dotsenko, everything you've done took a powerful amount of courage. I want to thank you, sir." He extended his hand. Dotsenko stood, accepting the firm handshake. "I'll have the agents take you to a safe location. You will have protection 24/7. Give me a little time, and I'll see to it that Miss Pankova joins you, then we'll take it from there."

"Thank you, Mr. President."

As Carr opened the door to speak with S.A. O'Connor, Dotsenko walked around the table, stopping near Grant and Adler. "I've thanked you both before, but it doesn't seem to be enough."

"Just have a great life, sir," Grant replied, giving Dotsenko's shoulder a light tap. "That'll be enough for us."

"Mr. Dotsenko," Carr said, "please follow Special Agent O'Connor." Dotsenko nodded, then left with the four agents.

Carr closed the door, and went to the credenza, pouring a cup of coffee. Grant and Adler remained standing, waiting for the "next round."

"You've got a lot on your plate, sir," Grant remarked.

Carr sipped on the coffee as he walked back to his chair. A knock at the door. Carr opened it, then took a manila envelope the office assistant handed him. "The pictures, sir."

Without responding, Carr sat down and opened the envelope. "You can sit, gentlemen." The two complied.

Carr drew the photos from the envelope, quickly looked through the airport photos, then laid them aside. He studied the photos of the terrorists more carefully, turning each photo, to view it from different angles.

"Was there much resistance?"

"Not much," Grant replied, "just when they went for their weapons. I know this won't matter, but I heard Reznikov mumble the word 'Spetsnaz.' He thought that's who we were, so I guess he decided he wasn't about to be sent to Lubyanka or wherever."

Carr flicked a finger against a picture. "Will these bullet wounds arouse suspicion when the autopsies are performed?"

"Honestly, sir?" Carr nodded. "Everybody knew who they were, and how many people they killed. After the bombings in East Germany, those three were already dead men."

"What happened to the hideout?"

"Frank set a charge in the underground storage, and Joe took care of the inside explosives with an RPG."

"Not much left then."

"We didn't hang around, but from what we saw explode, I'd say it turned into rubble."

"Your friend wasn't with you, was he?"

"No, sir. He wasn't anywhere near that place."

Adler reached into his back pocket. "Almost forgot." He handed Carr an envelope. "Sir, the Russian passport and the Aeroflot ticket are inside, plus a map we found at the hideout. It looks like Reznikov was planning an attack on that base, Sperenberg."

Carr left the passport and ticket inside the envelope, but withdrew the map. As he examined it, he noticed 'Xs' and arrows pointing to different locations. More deaths prevented,he thought. As he slid the map into the envelope, he saw one of the Watch Room staff looking at him. He motioned him into the Sit Room. "What is it, Marv?"

"Premier Gorshevsky's plane landed at Schonefeld, sir."

"Is that all you've got?"

"Reports are he'll be going to the Interhotel Stadt Berlin."

"All right. Keep me posted." Carr refocused again on the two men. "I have a feeling there's something you want to ask."

Grant didn't expect an answer. "Sir, would you be able to tell us what was found at Drazowe?"

Carr leaned back in his chair, swiveling it slowly. "Grant, Joe, I wish I could."

"Understand, sir."

"What I can tell you is those bunkers were more than they appeared to be. Scud missiles and launchers were 'buried' deep inside. Apparently, all equipment was assembled underground, then an electrical system would roll the launchers horizontally out of the bunker.

"But with what Miss Pankova gave us, we'll have 'ammo' to take to the Russian Premier, whoever that may be," Carr said with a shake of his head.

"Too bad we didn't have more time," Grant said. "There might have been a slight 'accident' that would've taken care of that equipment."

Carr simply responded, "Wish you could have, Grant." He rolled his chair back. The meeting was over. "I'll have someone drive you back to Andrews."

* * *

Just prior to her capture, operative Sophia Pankova discovered what was being produced and stockpiled underground at Drazowe: Novichok —"newcomer" — a series of nerve agents, allegedly the deadliest ones ever made, with some variants possibly five to eight times more potent than VX. They belonged to "fourth generation chemical weapons" designed as part of the Soviet "Foliant" program. Dispersed in an ultra-fine powder instead of a gas or a vapor, their qualities were unique. A binary agent was created that would mimic the same properties but would be manufactured using materials undetectable by regime inspections. The agents were designed to achieve three objectives: be undetectable using standard NATO chemical detection equipment; defeat NATO chemical protective gear; and be safer to handle.

Going through proper channels, Andrew Carr would see to it that NATO was advised. Armed with current information, the organization would eventually make an inspection, fully prepared with other than the standard detection equipment.

* * *

Carr remained alone in the Sit Room, swiveling his chair back and forth. As pissed as he was, he couldn't delay his next meeting. He flipped the intercom switch.

"Yes, Mr. President," Rachel answered.

"Rachel, please have Evan, Stan, and Marjorie (Marjorie Clemmons, Office of Legal Counsel) meet me in the Oval Office asap. Then put calls through to Hank Bancroft and George Platt." He glanced at his watch. "I tell you what, Rachel. After Evan, Stan and Marjorie arrive, then you call the other two gentlemen. I want them in the office an hour later."