“Found it. Here’s the studio,” Summer said.
They hurried to join him.
They all stepped inside and Faith closed the door behind them. She held up her arm, shielding her eyes from the sudden glare. An assortment of cameras and other electronic equipment was crammed into the limited space and cables crisscrossed the floor. A blue screen covered one wall, where Faith guessed that they projected shots of the Kremlin or other Russian scenes when they filed reports.
“Anyone have a clue how to do this?” Faith said as she studied the control console and flipped a switch, but nothing noticeable happened.
“I think we’re over our heads. Comrade?”
“I’m sorry,” Zara said as the three stared at one another.
“Well, fuck. Pardon my Russian,” Summer said. “I saw a fax machine in one of those offices, and I can’t imagine how they’d do business having to order a line for a fax hours in advance.”
“They have special arrangements for overseas lines. I totally forgot since I don’t work domestically. I’m not that up on things here.”
“Well, hell, let’s go make some phone calls,” Summer said.
Faith commandeered the first office she came to, snatched up the phone and punched in the country code for Germany, then the West Berlin prefix.
“Anyone know the country code for the US?” Summer yelled down the hall.
“Dial eight, wait for the dial tone, then one-zero-one,” Faith shouted as she hit the number for Hakan, not knowing whom else to call. The phone beeped and then a recorded message came on in German informing her that the circuits were down. She tried again, but got the same recording.
The takeover had begun.
Zara dialed her uncle’s home phone, but no one answered after a dozen rings. A corporal finally answered his work phone.
“This is Lieutenant Colonel Zara Bogdanov. Let me speak with my uncle, General Ivanovski.”
“The general’s unavailable.”
“Perhaps you didn’t understand. I am Colonel Bogdanov with the Komitet, and it’s imperative I speak with my uncle the general now. I don’t care if he’s asleep, drunk or screwing my aunt.”
“He’s having dinner with General Titov and ordered me not to disturb him. He’ll have my hide if I interrupt him.”
“He may, but the KGB can get your entire family-including the cousins you have never met.”
The line clicked. She was on hold.
“Ivanovski.”
“Uncle Yuri, it is I. I have an urgent message from Stukoi. Honecker has ordered the NVA to take over West Berlin tonight. They had planned on doing it tomorrow, but Kosyk double-crossed them and set them up. He’s in custody. Stukoi is interrogating him right now. He wants you to stop the NVA and keep them from getting us into a war with the Americans before the deed in the morning.”
“Idiot Honecker. Doesn’t he understand that would mean-”
“I have no time. If you can keep the Germans in line, everything should go fine with our friend tomorrow. Can you do that?”
“We’re not ready for war with the Americans,” the general shouted into the phone with a drunken slur. “Not yet.”
“This is Lieutenant Commander Summer. Get me Captain Moberly on the double.” Summer opened a desk drawer and poked around inside.
“Can I tell him what it’s regarding, commander?” a yeoman said.
“An imminent threat to national security. Get Moberly in the next five seconds or I’ll personally see you’re busted down to an E-1 and spend the rest of your tour painting the same goddamn bulkhead over and over again. Get to it!” The phone clicked and Summer found himself on hold, the closest thing to purgatory in this world. Within a minute, a voice came on the line.
“Moberly here. You’d better have a good one, Summer. My officers don’t go AWOL on me.”
“Sir, we’ll deal with that later.” The line crackled.
“Where the fuck are you?”
“This is going to sound crazy, but I was kidnapped and brought to Moscow, but that’s not the problem right now. You’ve got to get word to the Joint Chiefs and the President that East German forces are mobilizing to take West Berlin tonight. They’re going to cut off the corridor and probably invade through the subway.”
“Moscow, my ass. That’s a good one, Summer. Next you’re going to tell me the Chinese are in Higgins boats, crossing the strait for Taiwan as we speak.”
Faith walked into the room. “Lines are down to West Berlin.”
“I just got word civilian communications with West Berlin have been severed. Listen to me. It’s critical you tell them the Russians aren’t behind it. They don’t even know it’s going on. We’re trying to use back channels to notify them right now. The East Germans are acting on their own accord without Soviet knowledge or backing.”
“How the hell can that happen? And how do you know about it?”
“Sir, I don’t pretend to understand the politics, but I know it’s going down right now. There’s no time for details. Get them on alert. Cut through whatever red tape you have to-”
Faith interrupted. “Tell him to check on the last Pan Am or BA flight of the day and see if they’ve closed the air corridors. Make sure they understand it’s not just a blockade.”
“Sir, check on-”
“I heard it. Do you know what will happen if you’re bullshitting me?”
“Do you know what will happen when the commies take Berlin? And that’s not all, sir. Tomorrow morning they’re going to assassinate-”
The line went dead.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
NAVAL ORDNANCE STATION, INDIAN HEAD, MARYLAND
5:28 P.M. EDT (12:28 A.M. MONDAY, MAY 1, MOSCOW TIME)
Who? Assassinate who? The base commander held the phone for a moment, listening to the dial tone in disbelief. Captain Moberly had known Max Summer for fifteen years and would have trusted him with his life. In fact, he had-more than once. He flipped through his Rolodex until he found the number of Colonel J. D. Drake. The Pentagon’s joint services mandatory training seminar on environmental issues facing base commanders had been a colossal waste of time, but he did at least make some friends in other branches of the service through it. He punched in Drake’s number and browbeat the corporal who answered the phone until he had Drake on the line.
The Navy captain cleared his throat. “J. D., this might sound a bit unusual, but I need to check something out with you before I make an ass of myself somewhere that counts.”
“I’m busy right now. We have a situation here.”
“Wait. Has anything unusual happened in the Berlin corridor tonight?”
“How the fuck do you know about that? I just found out two minutes ago. We think the goddamn Russians knocked down a Pan Am jet. Looks like they’re throwing up another blockade. I knew that glasnost crap was to get us to let our guard down.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
CNN BUREAU, MOSCOW
12:28 A.M., MONDAY, MAY 1-MAY DAY
“They cut the line. They’re on to us,” Summer shouted as he threw down the phone. He leaped from the desk chair, drawing his gun. He grabbed Faith’s shoulder and spun her around, pointing her toward the door. She shined the flashlight ahead of them until Summer cupped his hand over it. “Turn that off.”
Zara held her gun with her elbow bent, pointing it into the air. “Ready?” She flung the door open and aimed her service pistol down the hall while she shielded herself with the door. “All clear.” She darted past the elevator to the stairwell. She took several steps at a time, but by the second floor she was breathing hard and holding her bullet wound.
“Need help?” Summer said.
“Take point.”
Within a few seconds, Summer reached the door at the bottom of the stairs. He pushed the latch down. From the expression on his face, Faith understood someone was opening it from the other side. In a single movement, Summer stepped back, kicked the door open and fired into the surprised sentry’s forehead. He crumpled to the floor, his weapon falling from his limp fingers.