Vektor (3 page)

Berg knew where the package had originated, but he was dying to see the contents.

“Understood. You now have access to the package.”

“Thank you,” Berg said.

He navigated to the CIA operations intranet gateway and entered a long string of passwords that enabled access to his secure feed. He quickly found the data package in question. A separate screen opened, showing eight data sets, all of which contained a hyperlink. He opened the one showing the longest period of time, which ended three minutes ago in Sweden. “19:17.24GMT/13:17.24EST-19:23.53GMT/13:23.53EST.”

The hyperlink activated a data recording captured by one of the motion-activated, night vision-capable cameras hidden in the Viggbyholm safe house’s fire detectors. Located on the ceiling of each room, the cameras provided a searchable three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view within each space. The recording showed a three-man team enter the kitchen from the door leading into the backyard and proceed to wait for two minutes. Each operative wore the latest generation Russian night vision monocles and carried the same type of submachine guns used by the Zaslon Spetsnaz team in Stockholm. Definitely not your garden-variety operatives. He guessed they were some variation of SVR Spetsnaz.

After two minutes, the house lights came on, momentarily blinding the camera as the smart-sensor switched camera lens inputs. A fourth operative entered through the back door, and they proceeded to search the house. Berg toggled through the other hyperlinks, which showed the team conducting a quick, yet thorough investigation. He returned to the first link, which was still running, and almost missed the most important part of the data feed. The lead operative removed a small electronic device from his backpack and immediately ordered the team’s evacuation. Less than fifteen seconds later, the scene went dark, replaced by the green image of an empty kitchen. The team leader knew that their raid hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Berg sat back in his chair and considered the situation. He hadn’t expected the Russians to forget about Reznikov. Given what the crazed scientist had told him over vodka shots and gourmet food, he was surprised that they hadn’t heard more from the Russians by now. Of course, Moscow was still buried under the staggering fallout left by Reznikov’s manmade disaster in Monchegorsk, compounded by Reznikov’s link to the terrorist plot in the United States. The Russians didn’t have a basis to object on any level. Everything led back to a program that supposedly didn’t exist.

As predicted, the Russians would dig around quietly for Reznikov. But how long would their efforts remain below the surface? The Spetsnaz team in the video didn’t look like they would have passed up the opportunity to take down anyone found in the house. The big question was where would they go next? If Berg were pulling the strings, he’d start with the Stockholm embassy.

Three members of the CIA station knew critical details about Petrovich’s operation. One of them was temporarily assigned to his staff while she awaited her next assignment, which took her out of play. This left the Stockholm embassy’s CIA station chief and her assistant station chief. The Russians wouldn’t dare touch the station chief, but if pressed, they might make a move on the station’s second-in-charge. This was the only move that made sense.

Given the sensitivity of Reznikov’s circumstances, it would be reasonable for the Russians to assume that the details of the operation had been restricted to the most senior CIA officer at the station. In this case, neither the station chief nor her assistant knew the identity of the target, but this wasn’t something he could pass on to the Russians to dissuade them from taking regrettable action. All he could do was warn Emily Bradshaw that the Russians were actively prowling the streets of Stockholm. He opened a different internet directory and located the station chief’s after hours contact information.

Chapter 4

5:39 PM

CIA Headquarters

McLean, Virginia

Thomas Manning cracked his knuckles and nodded at Berg, shifting his attention to Audra Bauer. Karl Berg put the projector in standby mode and exhaled, waiting for Manning to start.

“I can sell this to the director. Do we have a confirmed link to the Iranians, beyond what the Israelis have hinted?” Manning asked.

“Reznikov didn’t specifically mention any Iranians in the facility. He just said that he’d been approached on the outside by what he assumed were Iranian intelligence agents,” Berg said.

“For all we know, those could have been Mossad agents testing the waters at Vektor. This wouldn’t be the first time we’ve mistaken Mossad operatives for Middle East terrorists,” Manning countered.

“It’s always a possibility. I could run this by our liaison and see what our Israeli friends might be willing to confirm.”

“If we’re willing to share the information provided by Reznikov with the Israelis, I’m sure Mr. Minkowitz would be amenable to steering us in the right direction,” Bauer said.

“The director will never approve that,” Manning interjected. “Reznikov’s information stays with us for now. We’ll need to come up with a different angle to garner Israeli support.”

“If we can convince them that we plan to take action against Vektor, they’ll pass information,” Berg said.

“Let’s take this up the chain of command without trying to involve the Israelis. If the plan gets kicked back, we’ll take steps to solidify the Iranian connection,” Manning said.

Berg’s phone buzzed, breaking his concentration. He’d set the phone to silent for this meeting, with the exception of high-priority calls from the operations center.

“Late for dinner?” Manning said.

“My apologies. It’s the operations center. This might have something to do with Stockholm,” he said, and Manning nodded for him to take the call.

“Karl Berg,” he answered.

“Mr. Berg, I have a priority, encrypted call from Stockholm. Source station confirms Emily Bradshaw originated the call.”

“Stand by. I’ll call you right back from an encrypted terminal,” Berg said. “Call from the Stockholm station chief,” he said to Manning and Bauer.

“Shit,” Bauer mumbled.

He pulled his crypto card from his front pocket and inserted it into a slot on the front of the STE desk set next to Manning. After entering his PIN into the set, he dialed the operations center and the call was connected.

“Is Ian in a secure location?” Berg asked.

“We have a situation,” Bradshaw responded.

“How bad?”

“I tried to contact Ian via cell phone and landline immediately after your call, but he didn’t answer. I tried a few more times before heading out to his flat myself,” Bradshaw said.

“You went out there alone?” he said.

“What choice did I have? Send the police to investigate a CIA officer’s residence? Wake up one my officers and burn another CIA employee?” she said and paused. “I found his apartment door damaged and half of the apartment in disarray. He put up quite a struggle,” she said flatly.

“Jesus. I’m sorry, Emily. I called you as soon as they hit the safe house.”

“I know. They either had a second team on Ian, or they drove straight to his flat from the safe house. I was at his place within the hour. I should have gone straight over.”

“Based on what I saw in the digital feed from the safe house, your presence might have complicated matters even further,” Berg said.

He looked up at Manning and Bauer and shook his head.

“Is there anything we can do?” Bradshaw said.

“No. We can’t afford to let this spiral out of control, and I can’t imagine any scenario leading to Ian’s recovery. You’ll have to treat Ian’s disappearance like any other embassy employ—”

“I understand what’s required,” she interrupted.

Berg paused before speaking again. “I’m really sorry, Emily. This is a shitty situation made worse by the politics.”

“How bad will it be for him?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” Berg said.

“You know exactly what I mean,” she hissed.

“The worst,” he said.

“I need to recall all of my people to the embassy. Frankly, I don’t trust your assessment that the rest of us are off limits. Let’s hope nobody else has disappeared.” She hung up.

Berg removed his crypto card and looked up at Bauer and Manning, who appeared speechless.

“Not good. Ian Reese disappeared. Bradshaw found signs of forcible entry and a struggle at his apartment. We can assume that the Russians will strip the information out of him in a short period of time,” Berg said.

“Beyond Erin Foley’s involvement as a surveillance asset during the raid, he really doesn’t know anything,” Manning said.

“Yes and no. In terms of raw data, both the station chief and Reese were kept in the dark. The only damning thing they could confirm is the timeline for the raid. He knew that our team arrived in Stockholm the day before and that the team didn’t learn the address until the next morning. They’ll connect the dots pretty quickly.”

He had never divulged any information regarding Kaparov, nor would he ever betray that trust in any way. If Manning or Bauer knew Kaparov’s position, they would immediately try to leverage the Russian for information regarding Vektor. As director of the Bioweapons/Chemical Threat Assessment Division, Kaparov should have detailed information regarding the operations and physical security of Russia’s premier virology and biotechnology research center.

Vektor, or the Vektor Institute, served as Russia’s equivalent to the U.S.’s Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and the U.S. Army’s Chemical Biological Defense Command. In fact, the World Health Organization recognized the Vektor Institute as one of the world’s premier virology research centers. Vektor and the CDC were the only WHO-authorized repositories of the smallpox virus, which indicated the significant level of trust and prestige bestowed on the institute.

Like the CDC, other infectious diseases would be kept at Vektor for “research” purposes, representing a possible biological threat to Russia that would fall under Kaparov’s sphere of concern. When and if the time was right, he would ask his friend for help, but until then, Berg had no intention of exposing this secret.

“Obviously, I’ll let you decide how to handle your source. Let me know if a warning isn’t enough,” Manning said.

“Extraction?” Berg said, clearly surprised by Manning’s suggestion.

“I’d support something like that in this case. Your source has more than paid his or her dues. Keep it in mind. Give me until tomorrow to redline your presentation and get it back to you with more detailed thoughts. Until then, you have some preliminary notes to work from. I’ll schedule a meeting with Director Copley for the late afternoon.”

“Sounds like a plan. We’ll be on standby,” Bauer said.

“Thomas?” Berg said, stopping the National Security Branch director in his tracks at the door. “I think we might want to consider bringing Emily Bradshaw back to the States. The Russians aren’t likely to be satisfied with Ian’s level of information.”

“There’s absolutely no way they would abduct a station chief,” Manning said.

“I sense the rules changing. I’d strongly consider it,” Berg said.

Manning stared at him for a few seconds and opened the secure conference room door, disappearing from sight. Bauer gathered her materials and packed her briefcase.

“I’ll talk to you later. Sounds like you have a call to make and some slides to fix.”

“Not fix, modify. None of them were broken,” he said, closing his laptop.

“That’s because I helped you with them. I’ll be by tomorrow morning to fix the rest of them,” she said, walking toward the door.

“Your office or mine?”

“Mine, of course. Your office is still a pit. As deputy director, I get to have someone unload all of my boxes,” Bauer said.

“Sifting through the boxes is half the fun,” Berg said.

“Then I suggest you schedule some time to have fun. Catch you tomorrow,” she said and vanished.

“Yep,” he said to no one.

Berg glanced at his watch. It would be nearly midnight in Moscow. He’d call Kaparov later tonight and hopefully catch him at the office. This would make it impossible for the CIA or NSA to use their magic and find him. If they could somehow triangulate Kaparov’s cell phone, nobody would be surprised to learn that his office was at Lubyanka Square. He seriously doubted that his own agency would attempt such a backhanded trick, but he’d take the steps to minimize the risk on Kaparov’s end. It was the least he could do for an old enemy turned wary friend.

Chapter 5

11:20 PM

Falls Church, Virginia

Berg sat at a modest kitchen table in his townhouse and dialed the latest number provided by his friend in Moscow. He’d purchased several new prepaid Tracfones recently and activated them using dummy email accounts through an untraceable laptop at Wi-Fi hotspots located across the D.C. area. Prior to entering Kaparov’s cell number, he had dialed the CIA’s phone redirect service, which would send Berg’s call through a random, unencrypted phone number, usually a business, within the same Moscow call area. Caller ID on Kaparov’s phone would show a local call, instead of a Virginia area code that would immediately raise eyebrows.

“This must be important. It’s past your bedtime,” said a thickly accented, Russian voice.

“It’s important,” Berg said.

“Call me back in five minutes. I need to throw on a coat and head out for a smoke,” he said.

“I thought you smoked in your office?” Berg said.

“I’m trying to reform my ways.”

Berg counted the seconds, considering the possible direction of their conversation. He needed to speak with Kaparov about two issues, but had to be careful with how he proceeded. He needed to warn Kaparov about the CIA officer’s abduction, but he also needed to prep Kaparov for the possibility that the U.S. government might strike a blow against Vektor. They’d likely need Kaparov’s assistance to pull off a fully successful mission. Unfortunately, the significance of the CIA officer’s abduction wouldn’t be lost on Kaparov, and Berg ran the risk of permanently losing him. He wouldn’t be shocked if Kaparov tossed his cellphone into the nearest sewer opening and never talked to him again. He’d have to tread lightly. A few minutes later, he tried the number again, hoping Kaparov hadn’t disposed of the phone.