“That’s not what I mean,” Luganov said, cutting him off. “I’m sure you’re conducting an aggressive investigation, and I want you to brief me on everything you’ve learned at our 9 a.m. meeting. But that’s not my point.”
“Forgive me, Your Excellency. What are your concerns?”
“If the Americans are targeting him as a possible intelligence asset,” Luganov said, “his life could be in danger, and then…” His voice trailed off.
“I’m sorry, Your Excellency. I’m not following.”
At this, Luganov asked Nimkov to wait a moment. The FSB chief heard him excuse himself from Katya’s presence. He heard several doors open and close. And then Luganov reengaged the conversation, presumably somewhere he felt freer to talk openly, probably in his personal study.
“Listen, Dmitri,” the president began in a hushed voice. “Oleg Stefanovich has always been a good and loyal son. He has known and worked with me for years. I find it absolutely inconceivable that he would have willingly betrayed me. He certainly wouldn’t have reached out to the Americans. But can I imagine a scenario in which Ryker and the Americans lured my son into a trap? I have been thinking about it for hours, ever since you first broached the subject, and I cannot rule it out. Oleg is brilliant, but he never worked for the FSB. He has no training in counterintelligence. And at times, despite all his worldliness, I have found him shockingly naive for a man operating at the highest levels of our government.”
Luganov paused. Nimkov wasn’t sure where this was going, yet rather than ask, he decided to wait. The president had not called to explore Nimkov’s worries or his theories. He was a man of action. He had a plan, and if Nimkov was patient, he would find out soon enough what it was.
“Is Oleg at home with Marina?” Luganov asked.
“Well, he is at home, but Marina and Vasily went to stay with her for a few days.” Nimkov was careful not to mention the name of the president’s ex-wife.
“Does my daughter have security with her?”
“Yes, two female agents.”
“That’s not enough,” Luganov said. “Increase her detail to a dozen. What about Oleg?”
“His usual detail is with him, sir.”
“Four men?”
“Yes.”
“Again, that’s not enough,” Luganov said. “He could be in real danger. Give Oleg a dozen agents as well. Then bring him to me by chopper in the morning.”
“Of course, Your Excellency. What time would you like for him to arrive?”
“Have him here by eight. I’ll meet with him after breakfast. Then you and I can meet at nine. He’ll be safer here. Plus I want to confront him about this woman, find out who she really was, and ask him about any contact he’s had with this Ryker fellow.”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” Nimkov said. “It will be as you wish.”
“And one more thing, Dmitri Dmitrovich.”
“Yes?”
“Bring the tape from the hotel.”
78
“We need to go tonight,” Marcus said when he got back to the safe house.
“What are you talking about?” Jenny Morris asked from the couch. She’d fallen asleep waiting for him to get back. “It’s one in the morning.”
Marcus pulled out a backpack and began filling it with the things they’d need as he explained that Luganov was planning to invade the Baltics in just forty-eight hours. He said nothing about the plot he and his source had cooked up to take out the president, only that the Raven had a treasure trove of material he urgently needed to get to the Agency.
“We don’t have approval for your plan yet,” she said, now completely alert and firing up her laptop.
The two had been developing and refining the extraction plan all day, trying to find a way to get Oleg out that didn’t necessitate deadly force. They’d come up blank. Morris had lit a fire under her staff to make sure everything and everyone was in place—just in case they did get approval. But at this point, it seemed like a long shot.
“Even if we get the green light, I don’t know if my team can move that fast,” Morris added, entering the third of five nine-figure passcodes to open a secure channel to the Magic Palace, the CIA’s Global Operations Center in northern Virginia.
“I’m counting on you, Jenny,” Marcus replied. “Make it happen.”
The message moved with lightning speed up the chain of command.
Marcus dictated the report, and Jenny Morris sent it as an encrypted precise text to Langley. The twenty-line message landed in the hands of the shift supervisor of the CIA’s Global Operations Center. From there it was transmitted to the director of Russian operations with a “FLASH TRAFFIC” priority. She ran it directly up to the seventh floor and put it in the hands of the deputy director of intelligence, who immediately asked for a meeting with the director. Twelve minutes later, Director Richard Stephens and the DDI were in a car headed for the White House.
When they arrived at the West Wing, they were taken to the Situation Room, where President Clarke and most of the National Security Council had been hastily assembled. No one knew what was coming, but all of them had been told to prepare for major developments, none of them good. The president convened the meeting of the NSC and gave the CIA director the floor.
“Mr. President, less than an hour ago, our case officer received a new message from Moscow,” Stephens began. “The DDI is uploading an image, and it should be on the screens around you in a moment. But I’m going to read it in the meantime because it is, as you’ll see, time sensitive.
“The Raven just made contact. Stop. Timetable for war changed. Stop. Invasion now planned for 0200 local time on 1 October. Stop. Luganov livid about POTUS decision to mobilize U.S. forces into Poland. Stop. Assumes forces headed for Baltics. Stop. Convinced there’s a leak in his operation and has begun aggressive mole hunt. Stop. Told generals he will go to war no matter what. Stop. One senior official warned Luganov that Russian forces not yet ready, move could trigger a nuclear war with NATO. Stop. Luganov undeterred. Stop. Division in cabinet not enough to dissuade Luganov. Stop. War now all but certain. Stop. CRITICAL POINT: Luganov openly stated to his war council that he is fully prepared to go nuclear—even suggested he’s looking for an excuse. Stop. Ordered all Russian strategic nuclear and conventional forces to highest state of readiness. Stop. Has been told by aides that element of surprise has been lost but moving forward anyway at full speed. Stop. Heading to meet the Raven for secret rendezvous. Stop. Preparing to execute OPERATION DAMASCUS BASKET on accelerated timetable. Stop. NEED IMMEDIATE GREEN LIGHT. Stop. Raven bringing with him 32 gigabytes of highly classified files. Stop. Will update when possible. Stop. YMM.”
“What’s YMM?” the president asked.
“Your Man in Moscow,” Stephens said. “That’s Marcus Ryker—our link to the Raven.”
“And what’s Operation Damascus Basket?”
“That’s our extraction plan, sir.”
“For Ryker?”
“No, sir—to get the Raven safely out of Russia.”
“Such a plan is ready?”
“Almost, sir, but it is highly risky, and I haven’t yet given my approval.”
“Why not?”
“Mr. President, it involves our people taking out four Russian bodyguards who protect this particular official, the Raven.”
“Isn’t there any other way than using deadly force?”