Charlie rubbed the corners of his eyes and nodded. “Grim’s intense. I get that. But sometimes she’s gotta back off. I’m afraid to say anything — because I know you’ll take the heat for it.”
“You just do your job. She’ll keep you honest.”
“I got the feeling that when you first came on board, you didn’t want her around.”
“This was her initiative, nonnegotiable with the president.”
“So why didn’t you walk away?”
Fisher steeled his voice. “Because they need us. The country needs us. Remember that.”
“Hey, Sam?” came Briggs’s voice from the hallway. “Got something else here. Apparently, the Russian government just pulled Kasperov’s license. His company is officially shut down. At least for now.”
Fisher met up with Briggs and followed him back to the command center with Charlie in tow.
“Sam, we’re still analyzing all the flights out of every airport around Moscow at the time Kasperov might’ve bolted,” said Grim. “The radar distortion has made that tough.”
“So did any of Kasperov’s jets take off?”
“Well, not according to the flight plans, but I’m sure he didn’t file one. And he probably didn’t take his own plane. Maybe a friend’s with falsified docs.”
An alert screen flashed in the upper right corner of the SMI’s main screen. Grim dragged and dropped a new data window into the center of the display then opened it. “Well, it can’t be this easy, can it? We’ve just confirmed that one of Kasperov’s private jets did take off from Vnukovo Airport, actually just after the radar interruption. Flight plan indicates that the jet’s bound for Tbilisi, the capital of Georgia. Says there’s three passengers on board, along with two crew members.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Charlie. “Again, he wouldn’t use his own plane and wouldn’t file a flight plan.”
“I agree,” Grim answered.
“Decoy?” asked Fisher.
“Hard to say. Maybe a decoy to buy him time? Divert forces away from him?”
“Yeah, he’s a smart bastard, because he knows that jet’s a decoy we can’t ignore. No matter what, we have to check it out.”
“I’ll see what assets we have in Georgia, get some people to Tbilisi before that plane arrives.”
“I’ve got the rest of the flight plans for that bird,” said Charlie. “Looks like his daughter, Nadia, was on board, flew back home from school in Zurich a few days ago.”
“Maybe that’s not his escape route but hers?” asked Fisher.
“Why wouldn’t he cover her exit as well as he covered his own?” asked Grim.
“I don’t know.”
“We’ll have to follow that plane.”
Fisher nodded, then crossed over to Briggs. “You dig up anything else?”
“His girlfriend was born and raised in Orlando. She attended the University of Central Florida. She’s got parents and a brother still living near there in a place called Winter Springs. We’ve got eyes on the house, and the NSA’s got the comms covered.”
“Any other possibilities?”
“In one of his gazillion magazine interviews, he spoke very highly of one of his old teachers from encryption school, a Professor Halitov. He retired in a little town called Peski, southeast of Moscow.”
“So if he went there, he’s hiding right under their noses.”
“Yeah, but you know if we found it this easily, so did they. We’ll keep an eye on it, though.”
“Hey, Sam?”
Fisher ventured back to the SMI table and stood opposite Grim. “What do you got?”
“A crazy thought. What if this whole thing’s a hoax? What if Kasperov staged this event with the government’s help? They’re in on this together.”
“For what purpose?”
“The company’s in bed with the FSB. Maybe there was a breach, and they staged this to contain it.”
“Well, if that’s the case, we’re taking the bait.”
“Or maybe there is a Mayak connection and this is their first stage in dealing with it.”
“Hey, excuse me, but Nadia Kasperov has a VK account,” Charlie said. “I hacked it and her last post was her saying good-bye to Moscow.”
Fisher cocked a brow. “So she bolted, too. If we find her, maybe we’ll find him.”
“Holy shit.”
That expletive had come from the SMI table, where Grim was bringing up Keyhole satellite surveillance footage, along with imagery captured by the U.S. Army’s latest Vertical Take-Off and Landing Unmanned Aerial System dubbed the “Hummingbird.”
Fisher reached the table and scanned the schematics of the drone, displayed on a data bar to his right.
Equipped with the ARGUS array composed of several cameras and a host of other sensor systems, the Hummingbird and her systems were capable of capturing 1.8 gigapixel high-resolution mosaic images and video, making it one of the most capable surveillance drones on the planet.
At the moment, the UAV had her cameras and sensors directed at a rugged, snowcapped mountainside with a long pennon of black smoke rising from it.
“What?” asked Fisher.
“That’s Dykh-Tau,” said Grim. “It means ‘jagged mount’ in Russian. It’s about five klicks north of the Georgia border, and it’s the second-highest peak in the Caucasus Mountains.”
“That’s a pretty big fire down there.”
“That’s not just a fire. Kasperov’s plane just crashed.”
“Was it shot down?” asked Briggs.
“Don’t know,” answered Grim. “No reports of aircraft scrambled, nothing on radar.”
“What’s our ETA over that site?” asked Fisher.
Grim brought up the maps, worked furiously on the touchscreen, and then the SMI drew the line and displayed the data bars. “If we divert from Incirlik right now, it’ll be eighteen minutes at top speed.”
“The Russians will send in some S&R crews. Think we can beat ’em?”
Grim consulted the SMI and pinpointed the locations of the nearest military bases and local authorities equipped with air power. “That location’s pretty remote. You’ve got a shot. But the sun doesn’t set for another two hours, and if you HALO jump right in there, they’ll spot your descent.”
“I know. I’ve got a work-around.”
“What about getting out?”
“That part always gives me a headache. You mind calling us a cab or something?”
Grim rolled her eyes. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Fisher hustled away from the table. “Briggs? Come with me. We’ve got a lot of prep and no time.”
The man rose from his station. “Sam, you mind if we make sure our extraction plan’s in place before we…” The young man drifted off, and wisely so, because Fisher was already ignoring him—
But he did turn back and fix Briggs with a hard look. “Is there a problem?”
“Uh, no.”
“Good. Because the jump alone might kill you. Let’s go.”
6
Paladin’s cargo bay had been sealed off from the rest of the pressurized aircraft so that the side door and rear loading ramp could be opened to take on cargo or make hasty departures. The bay was still large enough to stow a small helicopter with the rotors removed but significantly smaller than an unmodified C-17 capable of carrying more than 100 paratroopers and 170,000 pounds of cargo.
Fisher stood near the door, double-checking Briggs’s gear while Briggs did likewise for Fisher. The loadout was always the same, each item meticulously chosen and inspected by Fisher before it was ever stowed on board the plane. They each wore an HGU-55/P ballistic helmet, tactical goggles, an MBU-12/P oxygen mask, Airox VIII O2 regulator, Twin 53 bailout bottle assemblies, tac-suits, gloves, and high-altitude altimeters.