The colonel said, “What does it look like, Anton? Will the roads support our convoys?”
“Yes, sir. And I have a good track through Estonia. The rail lines can handle the heavy follow-on equipment and tanks. We won’t damage too much infrastructure and will be able to use the country’s electronic and Internet capabilities almost immediately. I estimate it will take us two days to reach the far border.”
“That is excellent news.” There was a pause, and Severov was certain the colonel was thinking something over. Then he said, “How are your guides?”
“They are certainly different from us.”
“Of course they are. They’re Muslims. Those desert folk aren’t used to the twenty-first century.” The colonel let loose with a loud cackle.
Suddenly Severov realized how wrong they had all been. Fannie and Amir were true Muslims. True believers all the way. The stereotype of the crazy, headgear-wearing nut was part of their strategy. No one in the Russian hierarchy took them seriously. They would never look at someone like Fannie and think she was a crazed zealot. But he knew she was a killer. They looked just like everyone else, but they were a dangerous bunch. More dangerous than a tank rolling down the middle of the street. At least then everyone knew there was danger. It instilled fear and made people get out of the way. A man with a bomb wrapped around his chest gave no warning.
Severov had realized that Amir’s fanatical need to cling to tradition and keep Fannie in what he considered her “place” was a minor manifestation of devotion to a cause, but that didn’t mean he was a lunatic. Both Amir and Fannie were the perfect example of what the West should fear from Islamic extremists. They were in no way “desert folk” and certainly more tech-savvy than the tubby colonel, who viewed them as dimwitted. It was difficult for most Westerners to understand the attitudes about life held by people willing to give their own lives to further their cause. Amir clearly had other personal reasons for being so interested in Fannie, but it was also his culture.
Severov finally answered his commanding officer’s question. “The guides have been helpful, but there is much I must tell you in person.
The colonel said, “That’s fine, because we’re going to move sooner than we planned. You should head back toward the border and double-check our route. Violence is subsiding in the West, and we’ll need you to lead your tank platoons. How does that sound?”
Severov took a moment to look over his shoulder and see that Fannie had joined Amir near the front door of the hotel. “It sounds a lot safer than staying here.”
It’d been a long day, and Vladimir Putin was happy to be back at his palace at Novo-Ogaryovo. He treasured the residence that had been built in the fifties and felt he used it most effectively. Not only was it his retreat from the stresses of his job, but it was his main office. Even though that was a contradiction in terms, he appreciated the time and effort it saved him of traveling into the main part of the city every day. He also enjoyed the grounds that were stocked with wildlife and the pool and workout areas that were never more than a few minutes’ walk away.
He was surprised and not particularly pleased to be told that Yuri Simplov was waiting for him in his official office. Yuri was one of the few people who could ask for admittance in his absence and be allowed to wait. It was late and Putin was tired, and he would’ve preferred to hear any updates in the morning.
When they were alone in the office, Putin went to the comfortable chair behind the desk, making sure Yuri realized he still answered to Putin on everything. Putin said, “I really want to make sure you and I do not have more contact than usual during this critical period.”
Simplov said, “But it’s not unusual for us to talk four or five times a week.”
“Yes, but many of those conversations are over the phone.”
“I understand, but there is much to talk about,” Simplov said.
“I just finished briefing Andre on the operation and trying to explain to him that the protests in the U.S. and Germany were unplanned and spontaneous,” Putin said, “but now our agents are working to influence them. That is correct, no?”
“Our man in New York has taken advantage of an existing protest group and hired contractors to help incite them,” Simplov said. “Germany is a different story. The German youth have been looking for a cause to protest and are anxious to convince the U.S. that Germany no longer needs them as a military force in the country. Their protests turned violent quickly without much prodding from us. But to be accurate, some of their protest groups were already controlled by our SVR agents.”
Putin nodded and said, “Very good. It makes excellent television and focuses everyone’s attention on an issue that doesn’t even really exist. Sometimes fate smiles upon us.” He knew the power of the media and how an intelligence agency could use it. Years earlier, he had directed Yuri to plant four bombs in apartments all across Russia, including Moscow. In September 1999, the blasts killed more than three hundred people and injured seventeen hundred. The country was outraged to learn that Chechen rebels were responsible. The administration had used it as an excuse to start the Second Chechen War by bombing Grozny, and Putin had used that success as a way to succeed Boris Yeltsin as president.
There had always been rumors that the FSB had been involved, and there was even an arrest of three FSB agents who were planting additional bombs. But the agency claimed it was a training exercise, and nothing was ever proven. The Duma rejected calls for an investigation, and all Putin had to do for that was make sure key members were appointed to vital positions of power. That included his friend Andre Maysak.
Putin looked across the desk at Yuri and said, “Where are we in our current operation? And start with the bad news first.”
“We have lost the U.S. trader whose account we used to transfer the money. He knows nothing about us, but the FBI might be able to use him to find a connection to us. Initially, we hoped to eliminate him and make it look like a suicide. He has been much more resourceful than we expected. Still, our man in New York is determined to find him.
“You’ve already seen news reports that the Swiss bank was destroyed by a massive explosive device,” Simplov said. “That was done by our allies. The blast killed the young man who introduced the algorithm into the stock exchanges. It also eliminated the original computer and will greatly slow down any investigation into the algorithm. If anyone is ever able to piece together what happened or who developed the program, it will be long after we have taken complete control of Estonia.”
Putin nodded but refrained from giving any specific praise. This was the SVR’s job, after all. The whole idea was for the agency to control situations like this, and he was not particularly happy there was a loose end like the missing trader.
Yuri said, “The terror attacks are drawing all the media attention, as well as the law enforcement and intelligence attention, in the Western countries. As we talked about earlier, the initial wave of attacks has run out of steam, and now the attacks are occurring with much less frequency. Some of these attacks were planned but had to be delayed for one reason or another. I think it is all working out to our advantage.
“The military is preparing to move and have conducted an in-depth reconnaissance of their route. We did make use of a talented Muslim to help there, but I’m assured the connection is secure. There appear to be no issues, and the Estonian defense force will provide little, if any, resistance. We feel that the sight of Russian tanks rolling across the border will be enough to cause them to surrender.”