“About what?” he asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said.
“As long as we end up arguing about which room is ours.”
“One of us will say it’s 312 and the other will insist it’s 310,” Battat said.
“Exactly,” Odette replied.
“Then we’ll open the door to 310.”
“How?” Odette reached into her pocket.
“With this,” she said as she pulled out the master key she had taken from the housekeeper.
“If we’re lucky, the Harpooner will only want to chase us away.”
“What if someone else comes from their room or calls hotel security?” Battat asked.
“Then we argue more quickly,” Odette said as she took off her jacket and slipped it over her forearm, concealing the gun. The woman seemed to be growing impatient, a little anxious. Not that Battat blamed her. They were facing both the Harpooner and the unknown. If it were not for the dullness caused by whatever was afflicting him, he would have been experiencing fear on top of his lingering anger.
“This is not a science,” she added.
“The point of what we’re doing is to distract the Harpooner long enough to kill him.”
“I understand,” Battat said.
“What do you want me to do?”
“When I open the door, I want you to push it back hard,” she said.
“That should startle the Harpooner and also give me a moment to aim and fire. When we’re finished, we come back to the stairwell and leave.”
“All right,” Battat said.
“Are you sure you feel up to this?” Odette asked.
“I’ll be able to do what you want me to,” he said. She nodded and gave him a reassuring half smile. Or maybe she was trying to reassure herself.
A moment later, they headed down the hall.
Saint Petersburg, Russia Tuesday, 11:02 a.m.
Josef Norivsky was the Russian Op-Center’s liaison between the country’s other intelligence and investigative agencies as well as Interpol. He was a young, broad shouldered man with short black hair and a long, pale face. He strode into General Orlov’s office wearing an expression that was somewhere between fury and disbelief.
“Something is wrong,” he said. Norivsky did not disseminate information unless he was sure of it. As a result, when he spoke, he had a way of making any statement seem like a pronouncement. The intelligence liaison handed Orlov a set of eight by-ten photographs. Orlov looked quickly at the eleven blurry black-and-white pictures. The shots showed five men in ski masks moving a sixth, unmasked man through a corridor made of cinder blocks.
“These photographs were taken by security cameras at the Lenkoran high-security prison in Azerbaijan,” Norivsky explained.
“We received them two days ago. The man without the mask is Sergei Cherkassov. The SIS was hoping we could help to identify the others.” The SIS was Azerbaijan’s State Intelligence Service. They still maintained relatively close, cooperative relations with Russian intelligence groups.
“What have you come up with?” Orlov asked as he finished going through the photographs.
“The weapons they’re carrying are IMI Uzis,” said Norivsky.
“They’re based on the submachine guns Iran bought from Israel before the Islamic revolution. In and of themselves, they don’t necessarily mean anything. Iranian arms dealers could have sold them to anyone. But look how the men are moving.” Orlov went back through the pictures.
“I don’t follow,” he said. Norivsky leaned over the desk and pointed to the fourth picture.
“The men in the ski masks have formed a diamond shape around the Cherkassov. The point man covers the package, the escapee, the man in the rear watches their flank, and the men on the sides cover right and left. The fifth man, the only one who appears in pictures one and two, is ahead of the group, securing the escape route. Probably with a rocket launcher, according to reports.” Norivsky stood.
“This is the standard evacuation procedure used by VEVAK.”
VEVAK was Vezarat-e Etella’at va Amniat-e Keshvar. The Iranian Ministry of Intelligence and Security.
“Why would Iran want to free a Russian terrorist from Azerbaijan?” Norivsky asked. The intelligence chief answered the question himself.
“To use his talents? It’s possible. But another possibility is that they wanted to dump his body at the attack site. How many bodies were found in the harbor at Baku? Four to six, depending on how the pieces eventually fit together.”
“The same number of people who helped him to escape,” Orlov said.
“Yes,” Nirovsky replied.
“Which may mean they were all working together,” Orlov said.
“Nothing more than that.”
“Except for the presence of the Harpooner,” Norivsky pointed out.
“We know that he has worked for Iran on many occasions. We know that he can usually be contacted through a series of associates in Teheran. What I’m saying. General, is, what if Iran organized the attack on its own oil rig as an excuse to move warships into the area?”
“That wouldn’t explain the involvement of the American National Security Agency,” Orlov said.
“But Cherkassov’s presence might,” Norivsky insisted.
“Consider, sir. Iran threatens Azerbaijan. The United States becomes involved in that conflict. It has to. American oil supplies are being threatened. If the foe is only Iran, Americans are not opposed to an air and sea war. They have wanted to strike back at Teheran for decades, ever since the hostage crisis in 1979. But imagine that Russia is brought into the situation. At his trial, Cherkassov admitted working for the Kremlin. That was how he avoided execution. Suppose Azerbaijan or Iran retaliates by attacking Russian oil platforms in the Caspian. Are the people of the United States going to stand for a world war erupting in the region?”
“I don’t think they would,” Orlov said. He thought for a moment.
“And maybe they wouldn’t have to stand for it.”
“What do you mean?” Norivsky asked.
“The Harpooner was working with the NSA, apparently to orchestrate this showdown,” Orlov said.
“What if someone in the American government made a deal with Iran before it happened?”
“Does the NSA have that kind of authority?” Norivsky asked.
“I don’t believe so,” Orlov said.
“They would probably need higher-ranking officials working with them.
Paul Hood at Op-Center indicated that contacts of that type may have taken place. What if the Americans agreed they would back down at a certain point? Allow Iran to have more of the oil-rich regions in exchange for American access to that oil?”
“A normalization of relations?” Norivsky suggested.
“Possibly,” Orlov said.
“The American military pushed to brinkmanship then pulled back for some reason. But what reason? That had to have been arranged as well.” Orlov did not know the answer, but he knew who might. Thanking Norivsky, Orlov rang his translator and put in a call to Paul Hood.
Washington, D.C. Tuesday, 3:06 a.m.
After Fenwick left the Cabinet Room, Hood sat alone at the long conference table. He was trying to figure out what he could tell the president to convince him that something was wrong with the intelligence he was receiving, That was going to be difficult without new information. Hood thought he had convinced him of Fenwick’s duplicity earlier. But in the press of developing crises, crisis managers often took the advice of trusted and especially passionate friends. Fenwick was passionate, and Cotten was an old ally. Without hard facts. Hood would not be able to combat that. But what troubled him nearly as much was something the NSA head had said to Hood before leaving the Cabinet Room.
“I’m not going to let you advise the president.” This was not just an international showdown. It was also a territorial fight in the Oval Office. But for what, exactly? It was not just about access to the president of the United States. Fenwick had tried to confuse Lawrence, to embarrass him, to mislead him. Why? Hood shook his head and rose.
Even though he had nothing to add to what he said before. Hood wanted to hear what the joint chiefs had to say. And Fenwick could not bar him from the Oval Office. As Hood was leaving the Cabinet Room, his phone beeped. It was General Orlov.
“Paul, we have some disturbing information,” Orlov said.
“Talk to me,” Hood replied. Orlov briefed him. When he was finished, Orlov said, “We have reason to believe that the Harpooner and Iranian nationals carried out the attack on the Iranian oil rig. We believe the attack may have been the same Iranians who freed the Russian terrorist Sergei Cherkassov from prison. This would make it seem as if Moscow was involved.”
“Compelling the United States to lend its support to Azerbaijan as a counterbalance,” Hood said.
“Do you know if Teheran sanctioned the attack?”
“Very possibly,” Orlov replied.
“The Iranians appear to have been working for or were trained by VEVAK.”
“In order to precipitate a crisis that would allow them to move in militarily,” Hood said.
“Yes,” Orlov agreed.
“And the presence of Cherkassov, we think, was designed to give Iran a reason to threaten our oil facilities. To draw Russia into the crisis.