Blood Line (7 page)

“Tell me something: how far can you shoot and hit the target?” Leecy asked.

“800 meters was my longest shot in practice, but I’ve never had to shoot that far for real. I thought my next mission was going to be a long distance shot, because of all the training they were putting me through, but it turned out to be something quite different. I was sent back to South America in the fall of 1988 to assassinate another Nazi war criminal named Mikhail Klein.

“Klein lived in the central region of Argentina near Lake Laguna Mar Chiquita. He had this cabin near the abandoned Gran Hotel Vienna. I arrived in Cordoba, Argentina, and was met by my local contact and driven to a location northeast of the city.

“The target was known to be an avid fisherman, taking a small boat out on Lake Laguna Mar twice a day. I thought about how to do this job, and decided that drowning would be the best way. Actually, all I had to do was separate him from his boat and let fatigue do the work for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the lake isn’t very deep, but it is large. I swam behind him at a discrete distance until he reached the deepest part of the lake and began fishing. I eased up very quietly behind his little boat that was no bigger than a kayak, really, and tipped it over. He never saw me, and by the time I’d swum to shore he’d drowned. The locals treated it as it was: a drowning. No fuss. Just an accident.”

“Crap, Mom, that’s cold blooded.”

“Maybe so. All I knew at the time was it was the end of a very bad man. As all the assignments to that point had been. But that all changed, when I got a very unusual call.”

“Oh no, why do I sense danger of some kind?” Leecy asked.

“Couldn’t it just be bad news? Why do you think something dangerous is about to happen?” Valerie asked.

“I was just thinking about that time in history. Reagan was the President till January of 1989. He’d given his famous ‘tear down this wall’ speech imploring the Soviet leader Gorbachev to tear down the Berlin wall in 1987. When the wall started to come down two years later on November 9, 1989, there was unrest throughout Europe, but never more so in Russia. The tide was turning away from Communism in the Soviet Union. The world waited for the Soviet Union’s collapse, and though it took another two years, the Soviet Union did collapse in 1991. Gorbachev resigned and was replaced by Yeltsin and the Democratic Russian Movement had taken hold.”

“Like mother, like daughter,” I said.

“What?” Leecy asked.

“Nothing. I just bet there aren’t fifty people that can recite the geo-political history of the late 1980s and early 1990s without using Google, but you and your mother have it memorized,” I said.

“So what, I remember everything I read,” Leecy said.

“Why do you think I said like mother, like daughter? You’re both geniuses.”

“Oh, I thought you were poking fun.”

“I would never do that. Never,” I said.

“Are you two finished or do we all need to kiss and hug for another ten minutes?” Valerie asked.

“Enough said.” I shut up.

“Leecy, you’re spot on with your history lesson. The geo-political climate was very unstable. Not everyone involved was ready for the change that was coming. That’s part of the reason why the Soviet Union held on two years after the wall came down. The dominos eventually fell, but it took a little help to get them all down, and that’s why my phone rang in the winter of 1989.”

“Wait, you were involved in all this?” Leecy asked.

“Yes, I was. But before I get into that you need to know something. You need to understand the Mossad had become far more than just assassins. Sure, there are assassins in the agency. That’s true. There were also some of the world’s brightest minds and forward thinkers working to predict world events. And they get more than their fair share of predictions right.” Valerie paused and stepped across another downed tree. Then she said, “So, I get a call instructing me to report to a local hotel for a meeting. That was standard operating procedure, like I told you already. I had done it so many times, but from the moment I walked into that hotel room I knew this meeting was different. There was only one person there, not the usual half dozen, and I’d never seen her before. She introduced herself only as my mission liaison. I remember asking at the time what was meant by mission liaison. The woman never gave me her name, nor did she ever answer my question, at least not directly.”

“So, what did she say, Mom?”

“She said I’d been chosen because of my marksmanship. I’d scored as expert with the soviet Dragunov SVDSN sniper rifle and, coupled with my Russian language skills, I was the perfect candidate.” Valerie stopped talking.

Leecy didn’t say a word. I assumed she was running through the many possible scenarios that her mother might’ve been involved with. I could almost see her putting together the bits and pieces of data like the sniper rifle, the language skills, and the training to piece together the puzzle. That’s why it didn’t shock me when Leecy arrived at the correct assumption.

“So, Mom…you’re responsible for the rumored assassination of Victor Wilhelm Volodarsky, the old Soviet hardliner leader back in 1989? The death had been covered up and the only reason I’m aware of it is that one of my assignments in AP History involved a lot of research on the U.S.S.R., and I found a website dedicated to the conspiracy theory about his death. His own people were said to have carried it out, because they feared he was turning moderate in his views. There was even a story about ex-KGB officers conspiring to kill him, which is why the Soviet government swept the whole thing under the rug. He’d been a man of the Party, so to speak, but his growing popularity had put him at odds with some other hardliners and they killed him. But now you’re telling me you did it and helped pave the way for Boris Yeltsin to be elected to the Congress of People’s Deputies of Russia. That assassination helped the Democratic movement in Russia to take a firm grip on the region. Holy crap, are you kidding me?” Leecy said.

Valerie stopped walking and turned to face her daughter. This was the moment Valerie had worried about for so many years and now it was upon her. My fears got the better of me and in an effort to take the heat off Valerie I made an assumption.

“Don’t be too hard on your mom,” I started to say, but was cut off by Leecy.

“Be too hard on her for killing a man that wanted to continue oppressing his own people? Not likely, Dad. No, I want to hear all the details. Every single one of them, and don’t leave anything out. Okay?”

We were very close to the end of the trail. I checked the time and the bars on the cell phone. It was after 5:00 p.m., and I had one reception bar.

“Where do you think we are?” I asked.

“We’re on the southern end of East Park. We’ll need a car from here. We have about fifteen more miles to cover before we reach the hotels that ring the Atlanta airport. I can use some of our cash and my fake ID to buy a cheap car from one of the used car lots in East Park, or we can wait here till the sun sets and borrow a car for a little while,” Valerie said.

“Steal a car? Now you tell me you can steal a car. Okay, I vote steal a car.” Leecy said.

“No stealing unless necessary,” I said. “We’ll buy a cheap car. We don’t need any more attention than we already have. Don’t forget there is an APB out for us, and the FBI is looking for us.”

“I know, but stealing a car sounds like more fun. Did the Mossad teach you to steal cars, Mom?” Leecy asked.

“Among other things,” Valerie answered, and she started walking again.

“Really,” Leecy said thoughtfully, and then rushing to catch up to Valerie, asked, “What else happened in the hotel room with the liaison lady?”

“I was briefed on the mission. I was given my code name, travel documents and my liaison’s code number, and told how to contact her. And to be ready in one hour.”

“That’s great and all, but break it down for me,” Leecy said.

“My mission, as you already surmised, was to assassinate Mr. Volodarsky. He was the leader of a group that wanted to restore the pre-Gorbachev, pre-Perestroika status quos in the Soviet Union, so he had to be eliminated. My code name was Scorpion. Any communication that didn’t contain my code name wasn’t to be trusted. My travel documents for that mission were under the name Beth Bradley. I was traveling on a student visa studying international business administration. All of the papers were false, but the fact that my cover was based on my actual studies made it very easy for me to be believable if questioned. My liaison’s code number was 31261714. I contacted her using a similar method to the one your dad used earlier at the store to contact the CIA. It was the early days of cell phone technology. Pay phones were more reliable.”

Valerie walked through the last of the woods and stepped onto the dead end of a dirt road. I stopped behind Val and Leecy. I could see over their shoulders to the back of an abandoned warehouse, but nothing else. “Where to now?” I asked.

“If nothing has changed since the last time I was here,” Valerie began, “we follow this dirt road for about a mile. Then we hang a left and walk about a half-mile. We’ll find the southern end of the main drag that runs through East Park. That’s where the used car dealers traditionally set up shop, but like I said, it’s been a while.”

“How long is a while, exactly?” Leecy asked as she followed her mother out of the woods and onto the dirt road.

“Twenty years or more,” Valerie said.

“Wait a minute,” Leecy called, but Valerie just kept on walking.

“We’re basing our decisions on twenty year old information? Since when has that ever been a good idea?”

“It’s all we have,” I said and placed a hand on Leecy’s backpack to move her along. “We don’t have our smart phones anymore, because we don’t want to risk being tracked or traced. So, we walk and see what we can find. I know standing here talking doesn’t accomplish anything.”

“What if we walk all this way and there’s no car dealer? No hotels. What then?” Leecy asked.

“We figure it out,” I said. “This is what it was like back before smart phones, iPads and the Internet. This is what it was like when I was an operator with the CIA. The information I received wasn’t always accurate. I had to improvise. I had to adapt to the situation. I was forced to think for myself and solve problems and find solutions that weren’t always apparent. Same thing with your mom and her time with the Mossad,” I said.

We caught up to Valerie at the intersection of the dirt road and the asphalt of the main drag and turned left. I could see the edge of the expanded East Park no more than a block away.

“The town has expanded. Looks like a car lot dead ahead. We’ll be driving in less than thirty minutes.”

“What? You’re just going to walk onto the lot and buy a car?” Leecy asked. “Won’t we look weird wearing these packs? Won’t that draw unwanted attention?”

“In any other town maybe, but not here,” Valerie answered.

“Why is that?”

“I read an article one time detailing Georgia’s hiking trails. There was a section about the trails around East Park. The article mentioned how common it was for hikers to be seen crossing the streets of the small town and eating at the local diners. So, I don’t think we’ll stand out at all. And as far as buying a car is concerned, all the dealer will care about is the cash in my hand.”

“Well okay, then,” Leecy said. “When do I get to hear the rest of the story?”

Checking her watch, Val said, “It’s almost 6:00 p.m. Let’s get the car and some food. When we find a hotel we can talk some more.”

I was checking my cell phone reception. I had three bars, but no calls. I looked up to see Valerie watching me and shook my head. She turned and walked the last hundred yards to the first used car dealer on the block and as she did she said, “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

I dropped my pack on the grass and sat down next to it. Leecy joined me, and together we watched Valerie enter the small office of the used car dealer. My eyes drifted from the building, looking further down the road. I could see fast food joints, mini-marts, and gas stations.

The sound of an approaching car caught my attention. I looked up to see a brown 1990’s Oldsmobile Delta 88 sedan roll to a stop in front of us. I grabbed my pack and climbed in the backseat, because Leecy was already opening the door for the front passenger seat.

“How much?”

“Twelve hundred dollars. I figure the car will last a month,” Valerie answered and then said, “Now, we eat. After dinner, we drive to the Atlanta Airport and find a hotel.”

Dinner was from Chick-fil-A, not because we loved fast food chicken sandwiches, but because it was the best among a lot of bad choices. We ate grilled chicken sandwiches with whole-wheat buns and drank bottles of water. We shared a protein bar, and each of us ate a banana. The bananas were purchased from a fruit stand next to the gas station where we filled the tank of the Oldsmobile.

The drive to the Atlanta Airport took longer than expected because of traffic. Leecy was asleep in the front seat by the time we stopped at the Motel 6 south of the airport. Valerie got us a room through the Plexiglas-enclosed check-in window, and then drove us around the hotel to park near, but not in front of, room 121. I grabbed Leecy’s pack from the front seat and carried it along with mine into the room, following Valerie through the door. I returned to the car to carry my sleeping daughter to the room. I placed her on one of the double beds, and Valerie covered her with a blanket. I motioned for Valerie to join me outside the room and she followed me out the door.

“No word from Wakefield?”

“Not yet, but it’s early. The CIA is actively checking my operator’s communication designations. But it may take longer than I hoped. We need to talk about what we are going to do if the cavalry doesn’t come.”

“I don’t see that our plan of action is any different with or without the CIA. We need to piece the puzzle together. We know five of the players. The two from this morning, Smotherman and Pickett, Agent Porter, Travis Smith and Briggs Smith, but we don’t know if Porter is really FBI or not. Ranger Smith told us Porter was working with someone else, but we don’t know who it is,” Valerie said.