“How the hell did Belarus obtain weapons grade material?”
“The Soviet Ministry of Atomic Energy stored it here during the Cold War. Later, Russia allowed Minsk to maintain ownership of it, ostensibly for scientific research purposes into medical isotopes and civilian power plants. It’s a little known fact that Lukashenko’s government possesses over two tons of nuclear materials, including several hundred pounds of highly enriched uranium. This is one of just a few known HEU stockpiles in the world readily available for the construction of a dirty bomb or for sale on the black market.”
Naturally occurring uranium ore is composed of two primordial isotopes. One of these, u-235, is capable of sustaining a nuclear chain reaction. Cascades of spinning centrifuges separate the two isotopes, creating a gas with a twenty percent or higher concentration of u-235, which is then reverted into a solid silver metal called highly enriched uranium, or HEU. Fifty pounds of HEU was sufficient for construction of a weapon capable of radiating an entire city. A dirty bomb would simply consist of conventional explosives wrapped around a fragment of HEU. But with sufficient quantities, HEU could be processed into a nuclear bomb.
But where would the Taliban assemble the bombs? The necessary scientific and technical expertise in the form of Pakistani nuclear scientists loyal to the cause was easy enough to find, but they’d still need a secure processing facility below the West’s radar.
Avery was confident that NATO-occupied Afghanistan was out of the question, although that country had once hosted al-Qaeda’s Project al-Zabadi chemical/biological weapons labs. Pakistan was possible, but that country was too unstable, and the ISI would surely catch wind of it. The US would also have no qualms about hitting terrorist WMD targets in either country.
Avery recalled what Gerald Rashid had told him about Wilkes sending CERTITUDE into Gorno-Badakhshan to look into a construction site, a project that Cramer had written off as insignificant. CIA had also reported that at least three Pakistani nuclear scientists or technicians had recently been traced to Tajikistan. Gorno-Badakhshan provided a suitable location for a processing plant. It was a vast territory, sparsely populated, and outside of the Tajik government’s control.
“Western intelligence agencies know little about the makeup and extent of Belarusian stockpiles,” Aleksa explained. “Neither Minsk nor Moscow is forthcoming with information. In 2010, Belarus entered an agreement with the American government in which it would destroy its uranium, under the supervision of Russian observers, in exchange for financial assistance. But then in response to new European Union sanctions, Belarus later demanded more money. Washington refused to pay, and Lukashenko threatened to sell the uranium to the highest bidder. A year later, after more failed negotiations, Minsk reneged on the deal altogether and announced that it would retain the uranium.”
Immediately after the Cold War, the US tried to buy surplus-Soviet nuclear stockpiles to prevent them from falling into the hands of rogue states or terrorists. In 1994, CIA and the Department of Energy’s Nuclear Emergency Search Team conducted SAPPHIRE, an operation that removed over a thousand pounds of HEU from an unguarded industrial complex in Kazakhstan, while Iranian, Iraqi, and Chechen agents scoured the country looking for nuclear weapons. The HEU was transferred to a secure storage facility at the Oak Ridge National Laboratory in Tennessee. It was one success, but it’s estimated that there’s still enough Soviet nuclear materials unaccounted for to construct over two dozen bombs, and some intelligence sources reported that Iran had successfully acquired three obsolete nuclear artillery rounds from the Kazakhstan stockpiles.
“Where does Litvin come in?” Avery asked.
“Recently, Belarus agreed to repatriate quantities of its uranium to Russia for down-blending. GlobeEx will transport the uranium to Russia’s Mayak Chemical Combine facility in the Urals.”
And like the SA-24 missiles, the paperwork and numbers would be fixed and a cut of the HEU will find its way to the Taliban, Avery thought.
“How did you learn all of this?”
“My friend Yuri,” Aleksa replied. “He is a Ukrainian journalist. He was forced out of Ukraine under Yanukovych. He’s investigated GlobeEx even longer than I have. It’s become personal for him. He uncovered Litvin’s illegal sales of RPGs and landmines to the Lord’s Resistance Army in the Congo. After ignoring the death threats and pursuing the story, he was assaulted by masked men inside his flat, his computer stolen, and he was left for dead. He barely survived that beating. He has excellent sources in Belarus and in the Russian exile community. He extensively documented everything. This is going to be the biggest story of his career.”
“Can you put me into contact with him?”
“I can try to arrange it, but it is up to him if he wants to speak with you.”
“We might not have time, Aleksa. It’s extremely important that I speak with your friend.” But Avery knew that she wouldn’t be so easily convinced. Reporters were all the same. He had to offer her something in return. “Look, if you take me to him tonight, I’ll tell you everything I know about Litvin. I was there in Tajikistan when his people made the transfer with the Afghans. Mullah Adeib Arzad was there, too. If you help me, I’ll help you.”
Of course, there were a number of conditions, which Aleksa would likely not be agreeable toward, but Avery didn’t get into that now.
Aleksa dropped her cigarette and ground it out beneath her heel as she considered the proposition.
“I will take you to him.”
TWENTY
Yuri Dzubenko rented a two bedroom apartment in the Shabany district, on the city’s outskirts, which Aleksa said was Minsk’s most crime ridden neighborhood. Instead of looking out for KGB and cops, they’d need to be alert for muggers and drug addicts looking to finance their next fix. Aleksa was staying with Yuri and said that she tried to avoid being outside at night here. Except for the dirty, dilapidated tower block walls, poor lighting, and the heavy industrialization of the area, it looked no different from the other parts of the city Avery glimpsed so far. But nearing midnight, the streets were empty, silent, and dark, and he thought he’d seen far worse in some American inner cities.
Aleksa parked, and then they walked three blocks to the three-flat brick building. Turning the corner, she immediately noticed that Yuri’s lights were off and frowned. It was still early for him, and he hadn’t mentioned anything about going out tonight. He’d anticipated a late night writing and organizing his notes. She tried to rationalize it and thought he could have received an urgent call from a colleague or source and left in a hurry — perhaps he’d left a note for her inside — but the anxiety that something was wrong still lingered.
“What’s wrong?” Avery asked. The change in her demeanor was apparent.
Aleksa didn’t answer. She quickened her pace. Avery followed her up the porch steps, through the front door, and up a set of steep and narrow creaky stairs to the third floor.
The door off the landing at the top of the stairs was unlocked and ajar, and this confirmed Aleksa’s worries. Avery detected at once that something was wrong, but before he could say anything, Aleksa called out Yuri’s name. No response came. Avery was about to tell her to wait here, so that he could go in ahead of her, but she had already pushed the door open and stepped into the darkness.