“Connect us,” I said.
“Connecting,” Anna replied via my in-ear transceiver.
Salko’s room was locked, but Dinara and I grabbed his assistant’s desk, turned it to face the door, and pushed as hard as we could. The heavy desk surged forward and smashed the door open, and we clambered into Salko’s grand corner office.
“Go ahead, Jack,” Mo-bot said.
“We’re in the target’s office,” I told her as I raced to his huge desk.
“Plug the USB into his computer,” Mo-bot replied.
I pulled a tiny plastic USB drive from inside my shoe. Dinara had downloaded Mo-bot’s program onto the tiny device. After a brief search, I found Salko’s computer in one of the cabinets built into his desk.
“Come on, Jack,” Dinara said, watching the doorway nervously.
No amount of fast talking would explain away the wreckage. I thrust the USB drive into one of the ports, and when the computer woke, I was greeted by a password screen.
“I’ll take it from here,” Mo-bot said, and I saw a series of DOS windows open. “Shouldn’t take too long,” she remarked, and the password screen vanished and was replaced by a desktop home page full of file icons.
“We’re in,” Mo-bot said. “I’m going to copy his entire drive.”
A status bar filled the screen, displaying a job completion percentage. The klaxon, which had been constant since we’d triggered the alarm, suddenly fell silent.
“They’ll have started checking the building,” Dinara warned.
I looked at the status bar, which was three-quarters of the way along. Mo-bot’s tech was impressive. Copying an entire hard drive in such a short space of time was no mean feat. Even so, we were in a precarious situation.
“Anything I can do to hurry this along?” I asked.
“You can have something done fast, or you can have it done well,” Mo-bot replied.
“I just want it done,” I told her sharply.
“I know you’re under a lot of pressure, Jack Morgan, so I’m going to forgive your tone,” she replied. “Almost... There.”
The status bar disappeared.
“You’re good to go,” Mo-bot confirmed. “Just grab the USB and get the hell out of Dodge.”
I didn’t wait to be told twice. I pulled the USB drive from the port, and Dinara and I scrambled over the desk, jumped through the doorway and ran along the corridor toward the elevators.
We took a car to the first floor and stepped into a lobby full of people being allowed back into the building.
“They know it was a false alarm,” Dinara whispered, translating the muttered conversations around us.
We pushed to the edge of the crowd, and made our way to the exit.
“Salko,” Dinara whispered urgently.
I followed her eye-line to see a grizzled man in his late fifties. He wasn’t much taller than Dinara, and his wrinkled face looked as though it was set in a permanent scowl. The guy radiated ruthless hostility.
Dinara and I turned away from the man who had ordered the city scoured for us, and hurried out of the building.
My heart raced like a jackhammer as we walked away from the gigantic headstone, and the burning adrenalin didn’t subside until we were in the car and on our way to rendezvous with Master Gunnery Sergeant West.
Chapter 95
“Are you going to be OK?” I asked Anna and Feo.
Anna shivered in the evening chill, and nodded.
“We have our cover story, if we need it,” Feo explained. “You took us hostage at gunpoint and forced us to drive you to SVR headquarters.”
“Mr. Morgan,” West said, “we have to go now.”
He stood beside the modified Land Rover, and eyed Veyernaya Street anxiously. There was no one else to be seen, and the surrounding industrial units stood idle.
“Take care,” I said, shaking Anna Bolshova’s hand. “And thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“Good luck, Mr. Morgan,” she replied.
I offered Feo my hand, but he pulled me in for a hug. “We’re family now. You let me know if you ever need anything else, American, OK?”
“Thank you, Feo. That means a lot,” I said when he released me.
Dinara said her farewells in Russian, and minutes later we were in the Land Rover, watching Moscow roll by as West headed for the embassy. When we were a few blocks from Bolshoy Devyatinsky Lane, Dinara and I returned to the secret compartment, and West smuggled us through the police checkpoint.
An hour later, having been debriefed by Erin Sebold, who was in awe of our audacious, simple plan, we were waiting impatiently in the secure meeting room on the third floor.
“What’s taking so long?” Dinara asked. “We should never have handed it over.”
“The tools they have in this building will outperform anything else, even the tech we have at Private,” I replied.
The door opened and Carrie Underwood entered. “The ambassador would like to see you,” she said.
We followed her to Thomas Dussler’s office, and found him with Erin Sebold and Master Gunnery Sergeant West. Dussler greeted us warmly, and invited us to take a seat. Erin watched us with a mix of glee and astonishment.
“I don’t know how you pulled it off, Mr. Morgan. You must have diamond-hard nerves. You’ve given us enough intel to keep our analysts busy for years. All of Salko’s files. It’s a treasure trove,” she said. “The downside is that Salko is livid. Surveillance footage clearly identified you. He’s accused you of being CIA spies and is demanding we hand you over with the stolen data. We’re pleading ignorance, of course.”
“You get anything on Veles?” I asked.
“A series of communiqués,” Erin replied. “They’re coded, but we’ve been able to decipher the most recent one. It orders Veles back to the United States to protect Minerva. Salko is concerned you might know Minerva’s identity.”
“Minerva?” I remarked.
“We’re going through any records that refer to Bright Star. There aren’t many, which suggests Salko keeps any data related to that program somewhere else, but there is a report to the President, saying Minerva is the culmination of the Bright Star program and will redefine Russia’s place in the world.”
“Nothing else?” I asked.
Erin shook her head. “There might be some other coded material, but that’s all we’ve found so far. Naturally the identification of Minerva has become an Agency priority. We’re coordinating with the NSA and FBI to expedite the process.”
I knew what was coming. I could sense the shift in the air. The plumbers had fixed the broken pipes and now the owners wanted them out of their house.
“We appreciate everything you’ve done, Mr. Morgan,” Erin said, “but this is now a national security matter. We’ll take it from here.”
I fought the urge to sneer, and looked at Dinara, who smiled wryly.
“You can’t stay in Moscow,” Dussler said. “Your continued presence here is likely to spark a serious diplomatic incident. According to our information, Director Salko is willing to tear the world apart to get to you.”
“We’ve arranged transit for you back to the States,” Erin revealed. “Wherever you need to go.”
“And Dinara?” I asked.
Erin hesitated.
“You think I’m leaving her here after what happened to Leonid Boykov?”
“A second passenger won’t be a problem, will it, Ms. Sebold?” Dussler asked.
Erin shook her head. “Of course not, sir. Master Gunnery Sergeant West will take you to the airport. We have a plane waiting, and we’d like to have you airborne within the hour.”
“In that case, we should get going,” I said, getting to my feet.
Dussler offered me his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Morgan. We can’t make any of this public, but we will try to clear your name, and I’ll be sharing a full report with the President.”