Peter Kirsanow: Second Strike

“They’re already over.”

“Then next year.” Garin put his hand on her shoulder. “Stick with me, okay?”

Luci knew she would. When he’d first come to the rec center a few months ago, she’d been instantly attracted to him, as had most of the other female members. He rarely spoke to anyone other than her, and even then, only a polite greeting with a voice so deep it was unnerving. He’d disappear, sometimes for a week or two, but when he returned, he’d resume his workouts—the intensity of which suggested he lacked the governor in his brain telling him when to stop—as if he’d never left. Yet despite his apparent surfeit of testosterone, he was a gentleman, very old-school, as if he’d stepped out of a time machine directly from the Battle of Agincourt, removed his armor, and put on jeans. She had no intention of leaving him.

“Skip the shower. Let’s get you back to the Omni. I’ll get some bags of ice so you can soak in the bathtub, and then I’ll rub you down. You’re going to be in a lot of pain tomorrow.”

Garin gently squeezed her shoulder, sending a charge up her spine. “You got it, boss.”

WASHINGTON, D.C.,

AUGUST 14, 4:55 P.M. EDT

Olivia Perry was growing impatient sitting at the witness table. Several members of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence were huddled around Chairman Harlan McCoy, discussing something out of her earshot. They seemed unconcerned that they were nearly thirty minutes behind schedule. Perry and her boss, National Security Advisor James Brandt, both sticklers for punctuality, had arrived fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. Brandt was seated behind her, Arlo, his German shepherd guide dog, lying by his side.

This was her second appearance before the committee since the commencement of the bombing campaign against Iran three weeks ago. Brandt also had testified previously. The hearings were related to the congressional investigation surrounding the thwarted Russian-Iranian attempt to strike the United States with an EMP four weeks ago. The catastrophe had been narrowly averted, prompting massive retaliation against Iran by the United States. Chairman McCoy continued reading something in front of him before nodding confirmation to his colleagues flanking him that the hearing was about to begin.

“Thank you, Ms. Perry, for returning to the committee. We very much appreciate your continued cooperation.”

“My pleasure, Mr. Chairman.”

“Excellent. Committee staff have prepared a summary of essential facts adduced thus far, and…” McCoy fumbled with a sheaf of papers for several seconds before resuming. “Here we are. I’ll give you the condensed version so we’re all on the same page, okay?”

“Yes, Mr. Chairman.”

McCoy brought several papers closer to the glasses perched midway down his nose and began speaking.

“On or about July 11, seven of eight special operators known as Omega—” McCoy stopped suddenly and looked up, indignant. “I have to tell you, Ms. Perry, despite the fact that I’m chair of Senate Intelligence of the United States of America, I’d never even heard of this Omega before. Not a thing. Neither had any of the forty-plus witnesses who have appeared so far before this committee, with the exception of DDCI Kessler.” McCoy repeatedly stabbed the dais with his index finger. “Did you know about them?”

“Neither Mr. Brandt nor I was aware of Omega’s existence until the crisis began unfolding,” Perry answered truthfully.

A staffer rose from behind and whispered into McCoy’s ear. Olivia Perry suspected that the senator’s “extemporaneous” remarks were a rehearsal for when the investigation became public, an attempt to deflect attention from the fact that it was McCoy’s closest confidant, Senate Intelligence counsel Julian Day, who had been funneling intelligence to the Russians—and by extension the Iranians—to facilitate the EMP strike. All right under McCoy’s nose.

“As I was saying, this Omega team went into Pakistan—without that government’s knowledge or permission—to prevent an attempt by terrorists to acquire a nuclear weapon.” McCoy looked up again with theatrical magnanimity. “Now, I should say in all fairness, they were successful, though that doesn’t excuse this administration’s duplicity in keeping this team secret.”

Once again he returned to the script. “In the process of preventing the acquisition of nuclear weapons by the terrorists, team leader Michael Garin apparently came into possession of information about the Russians and Iranians. He believed it would lead to the discovery of Iran’s program—with Russian technical assistance—to construct and launch intercontinental ballistic missiles carrying nuclear payloads.” McCoy gazed up. “How am I doing, Ms. Perry?”

“So far everything you’ve said about the Omega operation is consistent with our understanding.”

“Within forty-eight hours of returning to the US from the successful operation in Pakistan, every single member of Omega, save for Mr. Garin, was assassinated. Seven members killed in a manner suggesting the sole surviving member of the team, Mr. Garin, was the assassin. Accordingly, given the extraordinarily sensitive nature of the matter, the FBI conducted a hunt for Mr. Garin, the scale of which, as I understand, was unprecedented. Nonetheless, Mr. Garin successfully eluded capture for several days.

“We now know Mr. Garin was innocent, but throughout the search the FBI and various intelligence agencies were fed information from a source within the government suggesting Garin was the assassin.”

A different aide whispered into McCoy’s ear. After a brief exchange, McCoy said, “Ms. Perry, it is our understanding that while Garin was a fugitive, you and Mr. Brandt were in contact with him. Is that correct?”

“I was. Mr. Brandt was not.”

“But you conveyed information from Garin to Mr. Brandt; isn’t that true?”

“He was never aware of Mr. Garin’s whereabouts, Senator McCoy.”

“…to conveniently maintain plausible deniability regarding the whereabouts of a fugitive…”

Angered, Olivia began to respond, but Senator Brad Cross, ranking member of the committee, interjected.

“Mr. Chairman, the evidence makes clear that the reason Mr. Garin was a fugitive in the first place is because disinformation about his culpability was spread through law enforcement and intelligence services. At least some of this information came from counsel to this very committee. I respectfully suggest we return to the focus of the inquiry.”

McCoy’s face was flushed. The counsel to whom Cross referred, Day, was killed—some reports suggested he actually committed suicide—after his involvement with the Russians became known. To this point no one had made “public” reference to Day’s involvement in the EMP plot. A shot across McCoy’s bow.

The room remained uncomfortably silent for several seconds, aides looking at the floor and senators inspecting their paperwork. When McCoy resumed speaking, his voice was neutral and measured. “It is our understanding Mr. Garin determined that his team was assassinated by a Russian operator with ties to President Mikhailov. The operator had somehow infiltrated and become an Omega team member. Is that your understanding as well, Ms. Perry?”

“That’s correct, Senator. We determined the Russian operator had become a member of Omega more than two years ago under the name John Gates. We don’t know how. His true name is Taras Bor. He was able to make it appear as if he had been assassinated along with the rest of the team.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Bor was directing the activities of Iranian Quds Force operators here in the US to effectuate the EMP attack.”