“No, no. I just needed to take a call.”
“Well, I hope everything is alright.” Martin could see the beads of sweat suddenly glistening on Andrey’s forehead.
“Fine, fine.”
“You don’t have the look of someone who is ‘fine’.” Martin walked toward Andrey with his hands slightly extended to his side. “I can help you, Andrey.”
Martin could feel the apprehension radiating from his counterpart. Andrey’s hands began to shake, his breathing rapid. The man of military bearing tried to stand tall, calling on his training to get him through. But it was failing him. He was now, just an old man.
“I have nothing to hide.”
“You forget where you are, Andrey. This is a secure building.” Martin kept his distance, a few feet away from the Russian. “I can have the NSA work to unravel a transcript of your phone conversation.”
“My phone is encrypted.”
“Do you really think that will be a problem? We have some of the best people in the world.” Martin took a single step forward, keeping his hands visible. “You can tell me, Andrey, or I can find out shortly.”
“I have diplomatic immunity. You can do nothing to me.”
“Why would you claim such a thing? You do not face arrest.” Martin took another step forward, pausing when Andrey stepped back. “You are in trouble, Andrey. Let me help you.”
“I am a General of Russia. I do not need anyone’s help,” he shouted.
“A former general Andrey. No need to shout. You are upset.”
“I am not.”
“I know, Andrey. I know what’s happened.”
“How could you know? You know nothing.”
“I know what happened. I don’t know why. There is always a why, Andrey.” Martin took another step forward. “You can tell me, or I can find out another way.”
“You will find out nothing.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not.” Martin took another step forward. “Andrey, if you’re in trouble, maybe I can help.”
The Russian general slumped, stepping backward and collapsing on a couch, shaking as his head landed in the palms of his hands.
The President of the United States was quickly ushered into the room as the formal state dinner concluded. He had made the obligatory ‘good nights’ to the most high ranking of the guests, including members of Congress, the Prime Minister of Denmark, and the Russian president. The First Lady had worked diligently to smooth things over as the evening wore on, and by the time she shook hands with President Novichkov’s wife, it seemed she had been successful. POTUS looked at those gathered in the anteroom and the expression on his face, changed dramatically.
“What’s going on?” POTUS took a direct bead on his chief of staff. “Martin?”
“Something has come up in regards to the Alaskan situation.”
“Alaska?”
“More than just Alaska, sir.” Martin turned away from the window and faced his boss. “There are things in play that we may not be able to control from the outside.”
“Outside?” POTUS had a sudden scowl on his face. “You mean like from outside of Russia?”
“Mr. President, we need some serious thought on this one.”
“How so, Stephen?” POTUS looked at the Director of the CIA with a raised brow. “Something seriously must be up if they dragged you over here so close to a state function, Stephan.” The president turned back to his chief of staff. “Martin, this must be something big.”
“I think you need to sit down for this, Mr. President.”
“Just give it to me straight, Martin. What are we talking about here?”
“Sir, what would you say if we chose to intervene inside of a foreign power?” The director stepped toward the president, his hands folded behind his back.
“Stephen, this government routinely over the years intervenes in the affairs of other nations. Most, I know nothing about. Why is this different?”
“Mr. President, most do not involve a world superpower.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Afraid not sir,” Martin replied. “Sir, I think in most cases, plausible deniability would be the most sure course of action with something like this.”
“Why is this different, Martin?” POTUS sat down into an overstuffed white chair, crossed his legs and rested his hands on his lap. “Tell me.”
Martin and the Director of the CIA exchanged glances, the president’s chief of staff nodding.
“Sir, we’ve come up with a plan to deal with the Russian situation,” Martin said.
“Sir, the CIA does not have the assets within the Russian Federation to contribute, nor men trained to do so.”
“Hold on, gentlemen.” POTUS straightened in his chair, his look now serious. “What are we talking about here?”
“Mr. President, we need to get the DOD. involved in this.”
“I can’t condone that, Stephen. I won’t send troops into Russia. If it involves a military strike, I’m not interested.”
“Then we risk sending Russia spiraling into chaos and possible war,” Martin said.
“How? Why? Where did this information come from?”
“From the highest possible source, sir.”
“Damn it, I was just having dinner with the highest possible source in the whole damned country!”
“But not with his chief of staff.” Martin took the seat opposite the president, leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “What happened in Alaska was not an official act of the government. It was an act orchestrated by one man outside of those bounds.”
“And why should we be so concerned about this one act?”
“Because it is more than just one act.”
“Stephen?”
“Sir, within the last few hours, we have word from inside the DOD. that they have picked up on several Russian incursions that seem to be showing a pattern.”
“Do they have anything to do with the situation in the Ukraine?”
“We believe they are unrelated,” Stephen replied, “at least at this time. Further inspection may shed new light on matters, however.”
POTUS sat back in his chair, sinking into the soft cushions, a look of serious contemplation across his face.
“There’s more, sir.”
“Oh God, Martin. How could it be any worse? And how is Mr. Volkov involved in this? Or do I want to know?”
“It’s best you do sir,” Stephen Thorn replied. “He is the source of the incursions.”
“What?” POTUS was stunned. “How is that possible? I know he has President Novichkov’s ear, but then, you have mine, Martin.”
“Sir, he had been orchestrating the movements. Under pressure.”
“Pressure? What kind of pressure?”
“From the Russian mafia.”
“Oh my lord,” POTUS replied.
“Mr. Volkov has been under serious pressure to, ramp up, shall we say, military actions around the world.”
“To what end, Stephen?”
“Sir, apparently this faction of the mafia has some serious financial interests in companies that build military hardware. Specifically, Air Force hardware.”
“And they’ve been strong-arming him, how?”
“Sir, his family has been targeted.”
“Targeted? Is he not himself a former general?” POTUS leaned forward, letting his forehead fall into his hand. Then he looked up. “How does one with that level of connection get compromised?”
“His ties are with the Russian Air Force, hence…”
“Hence the know-how and ability to implement tactical situations involving their aircraft,” POTUS said finishing Martin’s sentence.
“And he is routinely shown photos of his family as they are followed, or had tapes of their phone conversations sent to him. He felt he had no choice but to ‘help’ as it were.”