Brian Drake - The Glinkov Extraction

“What do you mean by that?”

“Are you trying to help Stiletto or catch him?”

“Maybe a little bit of both.”

They sat in Wilcox’s office, the embassy chief obviously tired, with his sleeves rolled up and tie loosened. McNeil still wore the long overcoat. He once again stood at the window looking out into the night as if the answers to his questions were somewhere in the shadows stretching along the street.

“I’m useless here,” McNeil said.

“We both need a night’s rest,” Wilcox said.

McNeil turned as the embassy man started turned off his desk lamp. He followed him out of the office.

“Let’s have another pass at this in the morning,” Wilcox said. “What we have to do is convince the boss that the Zubarev situation means we have to investigate on this end.”

“They already cut off the F.B.I. They won’t budge unless we can bring them something.”

“Well I’m fresh out of smoking guns, David.”

“HOW MUCH did Number One tell you?” Ravkin said.

“Everything, I think,” Scott said.

“You know it’s only me and one other and Glinkov’s wife and kid?”

Stiletto voice was grim. “Yes. Any luck finding where Vlad is being held?”

Glinkov might have been milked dry and killed by now. The goal should be to get Ravkin and his crew out of the country. If Glinkov truly was done for, there was nothing they could do for him anyway. But Scott couldn’t commit to that thought. If there was still a chance he was alive, they had to try and find him.

They were one of the few cars on the road and none of the other cars took any notice of them.

“Nobody’s following us?” Scott said.

“We’ve been very lucky.”

“I hate that word.”

“Right. You never know when it’s going to run out.”

Presently they arrived at the building where Anastasia and Glinkov’s family were hiding in the basement. Ravkin led Scott through the building’s concrete underground garage where the fluorescent lights flickered and ominous corner shadows dared to taunt. Ravkin used a passcode on a door marked Authorized Personal Only in Cyrillic, and led Scott down a dimly lighted corridor.

The door opened into another short corridor that led to a furnished room, warmed only by a humming space heater, with a television playing on a corner. A woman paced the floor. She stopped and faced Stiletto and Ravkin with her arms folded.

“Is this the American?”

“It is.”

“Hello,” Scott said.

Ravkin made the introductions but Anastasia made no move to shake hands. She examined Scott without blinking.

“Have you seen the news?” she said.

Ravkin and Stiletto moved to the television, where the news was on, and Ravkin translated. There had been more arrests related to the planned coup, and a statement from the FSB was expected any minute.

Stiletto said, “Does this mean—”

“He might still be alive, yes.”

“Or,” Anastasia said, coming over to them, “he’s dead and they got information from somebody else.”

“Have they released any names?” Ravkin said. “That might give us a clue.”

“Who cares?” Anastasia said. “Now that our American hero is here we need to get out of Russia. The longer we stay, the more danger we are in.”

Another voice joined the conversation. Another woman.

“I’m not leaving Russia without my husband.”

Stiletto turned, rising. The new arrival looked more haggard than Stiletto had ever seen a woman look. She oozed stress. There was no doubt about her identity.

“Rina.”

“You are Scott?”

“Yes.”

She hugged Stiletto weakly. “Vlad talks about you all the time.”

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

“He knew you’d come.”

“Your daughter?”

“She’s down the hall, asleep.”

Ravkin said, “Here they are.”

The group turned to the T.V. It wasn’t Putin in front of the podium this time, but a representative from the FSB. They announced the arrest of three more of the coup plotters and provided names and details of how they were captured.

“Who are they?” Stiletto asked as the FSB man droned on.

“Not key leaders, like he’s saying,” Ravkin said. “They’re lying.”

Anastasia added: “Foot soldiers. Logistics people.”

“Would Vlad know of them?”

Ravkin shook his head.

“The FSB either caught them on their own or somebody else other than Vlad cracked.”

Rina said, “He’s still alive?”

Anastasia snapped off the television. “That doesn’t matter. We need to get out of this country now. I had a plan,” she said to Stiletto, “but this one”—sharp point at Ravkin—“said no.”

“What was the plan?” Stiletto said.

“Fake passports and a train,” Ravkin said.

“Is that any more than your phantom benefactors will do?”

“Probably not,” Ravkin said, “but it won’t be us going out on the street to get them.” He turned to Scott. “What did Number One tell you to do?”

“Get you all out of here, with Vlad, if I can.”

“They have an exfil plan?”

“I have to call them first.”

Rina said, “We aren’t going anywhere without my husband.”

Nobody spoke for a moment, but their eyes were on each other, anger mixed with suspicion, uncertainty.

“Any chance,” Stiletto said, “I could get a cup of tea?”

ANASTASIA AND Ravkin went to get tea and coffee for everybody while Stiletto talked to Rina. They sat close on the couch with the T.V. still on but the sound off.

“Do you understand me?” Rina said. “You all seem to think I’m joking.”

“Nobody’s going anywhere until we have a look at where Vlad might be. That’s why I came all this way. Never mind what’s-her-ass.”

Rina smiled a little.

Ravkin and Anastasia returned with steaming mugs. Stiletto took his tea while the others had coffee. Ravkin and Anastasia pulled chairs closer to the couch.

“What do you know for sure?” Stiletto said.

“Vlad is not being held, officially, anywhere in Moscow,” Ravkin said. “He might be in some mob hideout somewhere. I have contacts looking into that.”

“Any of those contacts arrested tonight?”

Ravkin shook his head. “No.”

“Why are the two of your still on the street?”

“Nobody knows about this place” Ravkin said. “Not even Vlad. This is my safe house.”

“I’ve made it clear to Rina that I’m here to get Vlad out, if he’s still alive,” Stiletto said. “Our mutual friend asked me to get you out as well, and whoever was with you. I don’t know exactly how, or what to do with you once we reach the States. You’re doing something illegal. You can’t just claim asylum.”

“The Cabal will take care of everything.”

“You have enormous faith in them.”

“They’ve delivered for us. This present situation notwithstanding.”

Anastasia said, “Are you ever going to tell me who you’re talking about?”

Stiletto looked at Ravkin, who nodded and told the story of the Cabal and his connections to Number One. Anastasia listened without interrupting. When Ravkin finished, she seemed a little less pissed off.

“Did Vlad know?” Rina asked.

Ravkin shook his head. “Just me.”

Rina nodded.

Ravkin looked at Scott. “The U.S. will do whatever I tell them once they see the intelligence I’m bringing.”

“Which is what?” Scott said.

“Evidence of the conspiracy between Putin and the mafia. We were planning to use it when the coup took place. It made the case for what we needed to do. Now that information can be used to save me, Anastasia, and Vlad’s family.”