“Yes. Fiftieth Rocket Army. The Twenty-Ninth Guards. Why?”
“Then you know about the cargo.”
“Yes, but I do not understand.”
“It’s not your job to understand, Comrade Pushkin.”
The first officer finished the last of his cigarette and flicked the butt into the ocean. “What are you getting at, Dmitri?”
Samsonov shrugged as he also finished his cigarette and disposed of it over the rail, into the dark abyss of the Arctic waters.
“You told Captain Drugov you would issue a formal complaint to Moscow.”
Before speaking, the first officer finally seemed to get the idea that Dmitri Vladimirovich Samsonov might have been his junior officer, but he seemed to have more authority aboard this ship. Finally, he said, “We are heading to the island nation of Sao Tome and Principe off the central African coast with mostly oil drilling equipment. What does this have to do with a mobile nuclear missile?”
Samsonov smiled and pointed to the bow of the ship. “It is our job to simply drive and follow orders. Do you know how to do that?”
“I am your superior officer,” the first officer reminded him.
The GRU officer was prepared for this, which is why he had chosen this spot for his meeting. There were cameras and other crew members elsewhere on the ship. But this area on the port stern was out of view from any wandering eyes. He moved closer to the first officer and the man seemed to sense that something was wrong. Yet, it was too late. Samsonov grasped the back of the first officer’s collar and pulled him backward, quickly putting the man into a sleeper hold.
Then the GRU officer whispered into the man’s ear, “To you I might be Second Officer in Navigation. But my real rank is lieutenant colonel in the GRU.”
Now the first officer struggled harder in Samsonov’s strong hold. But soon the man started to fall asleep, his protests and struggle diminishing in a spasm of regret.
Once the body became completely limp, the GRU officer dragged the smaller man to the rail and hoisted the body over the top. Then he lifted the man’s legs and flung him into the darkness. With the wind and waves, not even a splash was heard.
Samsonov straightened his peacoat and instinctively brushed his sleeves, as if he were removing the potential remaining odor of the man who had been the first officer of this ship from existence. Now, he thought not of the fate of that man in the frigid waters of the Barents Sea, but of his mission going forward. He would be made first officer, naturally. More importantly, if Captain Drugov had any concerns about the cargo, he too could find his watery grave.
5
Karl Adams traveled throughout the city all day, moving mostly by trolleybus and on foot. The GRU knew his name, or at least who they thought he was, so he had been required to reconsider his flight plans. First, he swapped out his Spanish passport and driver’s license and credit card with the name Nicolas Lobo, and replaced that with everything Russian under the name Nikolai Krupin. But he held onto his Spanish documents, placing them in a hidden pocket inside his duffle bag. Once he had his Russian persona now in the forefront, he went online at a cybercafé to book a one-way flight to Helsinki using his Russian credit card. From Finland, he would decide his route back to the States. But first he needed to lose the GRU officers.
Before he left, though, he needed to say goodbye to Maya Volkova. In theory, he probably shouldn’t do it. What if the GRU pulled her in for questioning, though? It would be better for her to speak with authority on his Spanish background.
Now, he sat at a coffee shop a block from a trolleybus stop on the southern edge of the city center. From here Karl could pick up a taxi that would take him 15 miles south to the Murmansk airport. Karl had called Maya using a pay phone to her cell phone, telling her where to meet him. He had intentionally sounded subdued and morose during the call. No need to scare her.
He checked his watch as the next trolleybus came down the road, thinking she might be on this one. When it stopped, he saw Maya get off and gaze down the street before crossing between traffic. She was wearing her tall boots to just below her knees, with her jeans tucked inside. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her parka and smiled when she saw Karl inside the coffee shop.
Karl got up and gave her a long hug, but his eyes scanned outside over her shoulders for any sign that she had been tailed. Now they kissed on each cheek before a longer one on the lips.
He turned to the young waitress who had gotten his first coffee and told her to bring two more.
“I assume you want coffee,” Karl said, taking a seat with a view of the street.
Maya sat with her back to the window and said, “Of course. But I would really like vodka or a beer.”
Karl hesitated, remembering what he had planned while traveling around the city. “So, I got my new phone. Good thing, too, since my mother called me and said she was very sick.” His legend had his father already dead, and Karl with no siblings.
“I’m so sorry,” Maya said. “Will she be all right?”
“I don’t know. It’s cancer of some type, but she would not discuss it over the phone. I must go home.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. She told me to stay here, but I know her. She would not have called if it was not serious.”
Maya placed her hand on his. “You go to your mother. She is all that you have now.”
He nodded agreement with as much introspection as he could muster for this lie.
The waitress set down two small coffees on the table and Karl thanked her before she went away.
He struggled with this next part. But he knew that Maya should know what had happened at his apartment. “Those men from last night came back to my apartment this morning.”
Maya gave him a confused glance, biting her lower lip. “What? Why?”
“I don’t know. I was dumping my trash and saw them go into my apartment.”
“Maybe they were police and were there to tell you about your sick mother.”
Karl held back a smile to his best ability. “No. I think they were there for other reasons.”
“What more could they take from you?”
He hunched his shoulders. “Right. Everything I have now is on me or in my little backpack of clothes.” Peering outside, he could see that the lighting was changing to a golden sepia hue as the sun lowered to the horizon.
Feeling the small coffee glass, he realized it wasn’t that warm. He took it all down in a few short gulps.
“I’m sorry, Maya,” Karl said.
“You will come back to finish the semester, right?”
“I hope so,” he said, even though he knew his time in Murmansk was likely over — especially after coming under the scrutiny of the GRU or the FSB.
She squeezed his hand and a tear formed in her right eye before streaking down her cheek. “I will miss you, Nico.”
“We will see each other again,” he said. “I just need to see my mother and assess her illness. But I must go now.”
“May I go to the airport with you?” she begged.
“No. I will go right into security. We should say goodbye here.” He pulled out enough money to pay for the coffee and then stood up.
She hugged him with more strength than ever in the past and would not let go.
He kissed her on the forehead and then wiped tears from her cheeks. Then he picked up his bag from the floor and left Maya in the coffee shop.
Finding the first taxi, Karl got in and told the driver to take him to the airport. Glancing across the street, he saw Maya out on the sidewalk waving one last time at him.