What choice did he have? He was escorted through a secure area and into what looked like an interrogation room, with an obvious two-way mirror.
Two of the police officers helped Karl find a chair that was bolted to the floor. The desk was also bolted down. Nothing here could be used as a weapon.
Then they left him alone. He noticed they had left his duffle bag against the wall. If he was in real trouble for some reason, they would have confiscated his bag and found his stash of Spanish and Russian passports, along with the cash he had been given in Helsinki. No, this was something else.
He relaxed now, even closing his eyes and yawning. Karl wasn’t worried about making his next flight. He had at least four hours before getting on his direct flight to Orlando.
But he didn’t have to wait long to find out what was going on. The door opened and a familiar man walked in and sat across the table from him.
His father, Jake Adams, had a smirk on his face.
“Dad, what in the hell are you doing here?” Karl asked.
“Can’t a father come to see his son on a layover?” Jake asked.
“Yeah. But most fathers don’t do it this way, having his son taken into custody.”
“It was a show, of course,” Jake said. “I could have just followed you to the bar and sat next to you. But what fun would that be?”
“Wow. You’re amazing. How’d you get the Icelandic Police to do this?”
“That woman you met out by customs is Hildur Hilmarsdóttir. I’ve known her for more than thirty years. She’s now in charge of the entire Icelandic Police force.”
“She was the woman you were hanging out with here in your self-imposed exile?”
“A period of reflection,” Jake said. “Yes, I was staying at a cabin she owns.”
Karl considered his father and knew that he didn’t do things just for the hell of it. Something was up with him. “You don’t fly from the Azores to Iceland just for a four-hour meeting with your son. What’s up?”
“Good. Your instincts are working properly,” Jake said. “I heard that your mother, or aunt, had you learn martial arts as a kid. Which form?”
“American Kenpo Karate,” Karl said.
“Did you go all the way?”
“Is there any other way?” Karl hesitated and then added, “You know, I wish we had met at the bar or a restaurant. I could eat.”
Jake glanced at the mirror and raised his chin with a smile. “They’ll bring some good Iceland food in for us.”
“These people are so nice,” Karl said. “After what I did to their men, I would have tased my ass and at least slapped cuffs on me.”
“Hildur has them well trained,” Jake said. “And besides, where would you run? This is an island in the middle of the cold North Atlantic.”
His father, as always, had good points.
“By the way,” Jake said, “someone at the Agency has a sense of humor.”
“Why?”
“Using Konrad.”
“An homage to the master,” Karl said with slight derision.
They simply stared at each other for a moment. Karl wanted to have a better relationship with his father. It wasn’t his fault that he had not been there for him while he was growing up. His mother had turned him over to her sister to rear, without Jake’s knowledge of Karl’s existence.
Jake broke the silence. “You are correct, Karl. The Agency informed me of your flight arrangements and got me on a military transport from the Azores to Iceland to meet you. You are going to Orlando for a reason.”
“I figured that much,” Karl said. “It was one of three contingency plans upon my completion of the emersion program.”
“And you understand the significance of this?”
“I think so.”
His father nodded. “The plan is to make you a free agent within the Agency. You will never step foot at Langley again. You will be perpetually undercover in one of your current personas or a multitude of future identities. Your ability to have a normal life will be severely hindered. Do you understand this?”
“My mother was like that, I understand. So were you.”
“Not entirely, Karl. For most of your mother’s career at the Agency she was assigned to embassies in Europe, from Rome to Vienna. She was pulled out periodically, based on the needs of the Agency, to conduct operations in the Middle East and elsewhere. Towards the end of her career she was a free agent.”
“And you?” Karl asked.
“My initial assignment was setting up a front company in Germany during the end of the Cold War to monitor Soviet activity from those behind the Iron Curtain into the western European countries. As a result of this relative isolation, I also never went to the Agency headquarters during my tenure. They’re doing this to protect you.”
“You think our enemies have the CIA headquarters under surveillance?”
Jake laughed. “Hell yeah. The same way we have all of their headquarters under our watchful eyes. Those who must remain entirely secret, are kept at arm’s length. That’s also the reason for the immersion program. My guess is they will continue to send you to these assignments to completely develop your language skills, as well as your cultural understanding.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad to me.”
“Right. But, as I’ve told you in the past, it makes it almost impossible to maintain any kind of relationships. You will have lovers, but no real friends.”
“That’s a cynical understanding,” Karl said. “You were able to maintain this friendship with this Icelandic woman.”
His father shrugged. “You have a point. You will be put in a situation where you must trust people to a certain extent under very stressful situations. These encounters can lead to quick intimacy. But you must be careful. Especially when it comes to the Russians and others like them. Do not trust them.”
“You put your trust in a Russian during that Baltic affair recently,” Karl said.
“That was an anomaly,” Jake said. “I built that relationship over thirty years.”
Karl considered his father’s words. They were especially prescient at this time, considering Karl’s recent encounter with the SUPO officer in Helsinki. A traumatic experience had brought them close together, which led to a sexual encounter. But he guessed their enemies could use danger and subsequent sex to quickly build a relationship. Had Hanna done this to him? No.
Jake said, “The DCI has read me in to the current situation with the Russians.”
“Have you seen the video?”
“No.”
“Would you like to see it?”
“Sure.”
Karl pulled out his phone, tapped in his initial password and then navigated to his cloud access, where he put in a new password to release the encryption. Then he found the video and handed the phone to his father.
Jake watched the video once and then took out a pair of reading glasses to watch it a second time.
“Cheaters?” Karl asked with a smile.
“Don’t laugh. You’re looking at your future, son.”
After the third time watching the video, Jake handed the phone back to Karl. “Interesting,” he said.
“What is it?”
“The Transporter Erector Launcher is a modified version of the SS-20 Saber,” Jake said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I was in the old Soviet Union verifying the destruction of these missiles under the INF Treaty when the bastards hauled me off to prison. I was tortured and beat for two weeks. So, yeah, I remember what got me there.”
“You mentioned that before, but never told me the extent of what happened.”
“It’s not a nice subject to dwell on,” Jake concluded.
Karl clicked out of his server and returned his phone to his pocket. “You mentioned it was modified. How so?”
“Hard to tell from those images. But the most noticeable from the outside is the TEL. Instead of six sets of tires, it has eight sets. Which makes the transporter at least six feet longer than the SS-20. I’ve heard the Russians were working on a new solid fuel rocket with extended range. That could be accomplished with the same size missile. But if they extend that even a few feet, that would significantly increase range.”