"The country is tired of sending our men off to die," Rice said.
"I'm sure Orlov is counting on that."
"The general opinion I've been hearing about those movements in Russia is that Orlov is making a show. No one I've talked with thinks it's a serious threat. Everyone is focused on the Balkan situation."
At that moment that Elizabeth realized what Orlov was doing.
"Maskirovka," she said.
"What?" Rice sounded annoyed.
"Maskirovka. It's Russian for deception. It's a classic Russian technique, they've been using it in politics and foreign policy for centuries. Think of a magician using sleight-of-hand to get you looking at one thing so that he can do something else. I think Orlov may be using the Balkans to draw attention while he gets ready to invade the Ukraine. By supporting Mitreski he forces NATO to get involved. They've already gutted their rapid deployment force in Poland to respond in the Balkans. It confuses everything."
"That is devious, Elizabeth."
"Orlov is a devious man, Mister President. It's brilliant, actually. He weakens NATO by forcing the alliance to commit militarily in the Balkans and gets the activists working in the European states to protest any involvement of their nation's soldiers. He stirs up anti-American sentiment. Meanwhile he talks about a military exercise to explain the troop movements and it fits because there have been several in the last two years. People are used to them. Everyone is focused on Albania and worried about another religious war in the Balkans."
"So while we're looking the other way he invades the Ukraine?"
"Yes, sir. If I'm right, he'll cross the border soon."
"If you're right," Rice said. "Director, I need to have a better sense of the mood over there. Will the Ukrainians fight? Or will they ply the bear with honey?"
"I can't tell you that, sir. The government will call for resistance but I don't know what the populace will do. There are a lot of old hard-line communists in the region who believe in structure and order. They still have influence and there's a large Russian population. Many of them will support an invasion and volunteer to fight with the Russians."
"That could be a critical factor."
"Yes, sir."
Elizabeth heard someone say something in the background.
"I'm going to cut this conversation short," Rice said. "You've persuaded me that we may be facing a serious threat. Well done in Macedonia."
"Thank you, sir."
"Keep your team ready. I may need them."
"Understood, sir."
"Very well. Keep me informed." Rice ended the call.
Elizabeth let out a long breath and flexed her fingers.
Her thoughts turned to the earlier conversation with Nick. Elizabeth couldn't imagine who would send people after Selena and want her slaughtered on camera. Images of Selena being cut up by a chainsaw made her shudder. Whoever had sent those men wanted something more than to disrupt the Project. Someone was driven by hatred. Someone wanted revenge.
She wondered who it was. Until Rice came up with a different assignment, she had a new priority.
Find and eliminate the threat.
CHAPTER 28
Gutenberg sat in his darkened room, brooding over the failure in Vienna. It would have been good to start with the woman, a cruel blow to the heart of the team leader, Carter. He had anticipated the reaction when a tape of Selena's horrible death reached her husband. Now that pleasure would have to be postponed.
There would be other opportunities. Perhaps he was being too selective, too caught up in the psychological game of mental punishment. Perhaps it would be better to simply eliminate them all in the most efficient way possible. He knew where they were. He had someone observing them at all times. Wherever they went in the world, whatever they did, Harker's team could not escape.
He'd thought the man he'd hired for the Vienna business was the best choice for what needed to be done. That had been a mistake. He didn't like making mistakes but a mistake was always an opportunity for a correction, for discovering a new way to solve a problem. Solving problems was one of the few joys left to him in his ruined body.
He hadn't been looking at the problem objectively and that had been the mistake. The recognition felt like a revelation. He'd been unable to keep his emotions separate from the need to form a clear plan. His rage had gotten in the way.
That wouldn't happen in the future. In the meantime, he would have to do something about the contractor who had failed him. He was a weak link, a man who had proved unreliable. Weak links could not be tolerated. He knew someone in Hamburg who could take care of that. It could be arranged with a simple phone call. Eliminating Carter and his team required a different kind of expert.
Gutenberg possessed a list of contract killers and terrorists that would be the envy of any intelligence agency, a list Interpol would give anything for. He toggled a lever on the side of his wheelchair and rolled over to his computer. He entered an encrypted password and looked at the file that came up on the screen.
Each file described the contact's strengths and weaknesses along with his or her specialty. Each noted the particular way the contact was to be approached. If there was a phone number to call, it was listed. If there was a person to talk with as an intermediary, their information was listed as well.
Whom should I choose?
It was a delicious decision.
There were twenty-seven names on the list. The contractors came from all over the world. Gutenberg considered his options, reviewing each entry. After an hour he had decided.
Dupree. The Frenchman.
Dupree was a psychopath who lacked any trace of empathy or compassion, a classic narcissist who prided himself on never having failed in a mission. He was perfect for a job like this. Next to Dupree's name was a contact number for a man named Berger. Gutenberg had used him before. The man knew him as Pieter and thought he was in Johannesburg. Gutenberg made the call.
"Yes."
"This is Pieter. I need you to arrange a connection."
"For the usual fee?"
"Of course."
"Who do you want to talk to?"
"Jaques Dupree. I want to speak with him as soon as possible."
"Ah, Dupree. This man can be quite expensive. Are you sure? I know someone who is very good and will cost half as much."
"I can have someone else call him," Gutenberg said.
"No, no, I can reach him. I was only trying to help."
"How long?"
"It's uncertain."
Gutenberg gave him a phone number. "Tell him he will be well paid."
"Dupree is picky about who he works with," Berger said.
"Then you had better convince him to contact me."
Gutenberg ended the call. Forty minutes later his phone signaled a call.
"This is Pieter."
"Our mutual friend tells me that you are a serious man. Is this line secure?"
"It is."
"My fee for talking to you is fifty thousand euros. I make no guarantee to accept the assignment. If I do, the money will be applied to your account. Are you agreeable?"
"That is acceptable," Gutenberg said.
"Transfer the funds within the next hour. Write down these numbers." Gutenberg recognized the routing number for a bank in the Caymans. "I will call you back when the money is in the account."
"Agreed."
Dupree hung up.
It took less than fifteen minutes to move fifty thousand euros into Dupree's account. Dupree called back.
"Tell me what it is you want me to do."
"There are four people who have caused me considerable harm. They work for an American intelligence agency. They are interfering in my plans."