Bugayev shut down the engine and grabbed a small backpack before making his way to the shop door. He had arrived just before the shop was to close, as planned months earlier. Now he would make his first contact on this assignment. The ringing of a small bell announced his arrival inside the apothecary shop. No one really turned to look. The man at the counter had just finished giving a customer his prescription and a lady was waiting behind him.
“I will be with you shortly,” said the man at the counter.
The jovial smile on his face caused Bugayev to relax slightly. He had been told who and what to expect. The photo he had studied matched the man behind the counter exactly. Bugayev pretended to look at items on the shelves until the lady finally left and the man at the counter called out, “May I help you?”
Bugayev smiled and eased toward the counter. “I was hoping you had a flat for me. The name is Filip Menski. I called earlier,” he said with a smile.
The code words caused the man’s face to suddenly change to concern, then almost immediately return to the broad smile. He extended his hand. “Anton Kursov. I have been expecting you. Wait a moment while I lock up and I will take you to your flat,” he said as he removed his apron and began locking up. In just a few moments, they exited the store and entered a side door. There was a long flight of stairs inside. “Unfortunately, this is the only way to get up to the flat. It is a private entrance. You are on the top level of the building. My family and I live just above the shop and another family, the Polski’s live just above us,” Kursov said as he made his way up the stairs. By the time they reached the top, Kursov was very winded. He unlocked the door and the men stepped inside.
The small flat was very pleasant. There was a small sitting area, a kitchen with a table, and a television set to one side. There were two doors on the opposite wall. Once led to a bathroom and the other to a bedroom. Everything was clean and neat.
“We refurbished the flat just last year. I made sure that the floors and walls were soundproofed,” said Kursov nervously. He led Bugayev to the bedroom. On one wall was a closet. Opening the closet, he reached beside the side wall and eased a hidden lever. The wall opened and revealed a small room with a radio receiver some books and other items. “I believe you have everything you need. If you do need something, only talk to me. None of my family knows what we are doing. It is better for security that way. I was told to have a meeting with you and our supporters tomorrow night. I will take you to it at 7 pm. Until then, get some rest,” he said.
Bugayev nodded. “What else were you instructed to do?”
“Only to follow your orders explicitly. I was not made aware of any plans beyond getting you set up here, but I am at your disposal to get things started. Just be aware, I am expected in the shop from nine in the morning until seven at night. On occasion I can ask my wife to take over for a few minutes, but not for very long. I also have a son, Petyr, and two other younger children. After school Petyr makes deliveries on his bike. I’ll do my best to make myself available for anything you need,” said Kursov.
Bugayev nodded. “I must insist that you must do whatever I ask. There is much at stake for the Rodina. So start finding some excuses to be away. I will attempt to work around the schedule, but I make no promises.”
“I understand. The people you will meet tomorrow were all cleared by state security. I am hoping that between all of us, everything will be done,” Kursov explained.
“We will see,” said Bugayev sternly. “Now get back to your family. I will see you again in the morning.”
Kursov nodded, then reached into the small room and pulled out 1,900 zlotys. He placed them in his pocket. “That’s your rent for the first month. I will be expected to show it to the family and deposit it in the bank. I will replace it each month,” he said.
Kursov turned and walked to the door. “Welcome to Krakow,” he said as he left the room.
Bugayev deposited his pack on the bed. He looked in the chest of drawers and found they were full of clothing that was his size. He then examined the rest of the apartment. Everything worked and there was even food in the small refrigerator. He nodded to himself. If Kursov was this efficient, the job would be much easier.
Sitting in the easy chair, he turned on the television. The news was announcing some disturbances in Warsaw involving people who were originally from Russia.
It had been a rough night. True to his word, a car and driver met them at Reagan National Airport and drove them across the river to the Navy Yard. There, the two were deposited in their respective quarters. Despite their exhaustion, Hammond had a rough time sleeping. Somehow the anticipation of the new job had filled him with a strange anxiety to get there and get the job done. Being away from Patricia and Little Steve hadn’t helped. Because of a delay in Dallas, his plane hadn’t arrived until late, so his planned meeting with Admiral Johnson had not happened. He would be going into the office cold. Fortunately, the driver had taken him up to the river entrance of the Pentagon where he would bypass all the crowds of people filing into work. Lieutenant Jeffers was standing there with a smile, as usual, and had the Pentagon Force Protection Agency representative there to speed him through the steps to get the appropriate badging and permissions for free access to his offices.
Immediately after getting credentialed, Jeffers escorted Hammond to his new office on the ‘E’ ring next to the Office of the Chief of Naval Operations. He was pleasantly surprised to find he had a window overlooking the river and downtown Washington — not that he would get the chance to look that often. When he entered the outer office, everyone came to attention. Captain Mike Clarity stepped up to greet him.
“Admiral, this is Captain Mike Clarity, your Chief of Staff,” said Jeffers making the introduction.
Hammond extended his hand. “Good to meet you, Captain. Come on in while I get used to this new place,” he said cordially.
Clarity shook his head. “Sorry, Admiral, but you have just five minutes to get down to the briefing room. The CNO told me to get you down there a little early so you could talk. Just leave your things here and we’ll take care of getting you checked in while you’re at the briefing, then we can sit down afterward.”
Hammond gave a sigh. “And when I was an ensign, I thought admirals could just about do whatever they wanted.” The men chuckled. “Alright Captain, I am yours to command. Lead the way.”
Jeffers took the copies of Hammond’s orders and his briefcase then the two men left the office. The briefing room was on the ‘D’ ring and a short walk down the corridor. The Marine at the entrance checked their badges and the two were allowed to enter.
The Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Perry Johnson greeted them when they entered the room. “Roger, how are you doing? It’s good to see you.”
“Not bad, Perry. I’m glad to finally get here.”
Johnson ushered Hammond to a seat at the front of the small auditorium where they sat down. He got right down to business. “Sorry you didn’t have time to come over last night, but I wanted to give you a little insight on this job you have to do. I had tasked Styles with taking a hard look at our next threat and what we might need to do to prepare for it. Normally I would have tasked this to the Deputy for Plans, but I have her on a couple of other things right now and this is too high level to farm out.”