“No, we can’t,” I replied. “Mo, send over the program.”
“I’ll email it to Dinara,” Mo-bot said. “Along with installation instructions. When you get inside, call me so I can monitor what’s happening.”
“Will do,” I replied. “Thanks. I’ll contact you the moment we’re in,” I assured her before hanging up.
I paced the room anxiously. Justine was right. What we were about to do was incredibly dangerous. If we were caught, we’d be turned over to Veles and tortured and killed.
The door opened, and Dinara and Erin entered.
“We’ve got SVR identification, courtesy of Ms. Sebold,” Dinara said.
“Acting in an unofficial capacity,” Erin remarked. “If you’re ready, we’ll give you a ride. Also in an unofficial capacity, of course.”
“How do we get out of the embassy without being arrested?” Dinara asked.
Erin gave us both a cryptic look. “How are you guys with confined spaces?”
Chapter 90
Dinara’s heart raced as she heard the heavy movements of the two police officers searching the vehicle. Pictures of what would happen to her if she was caught invaded her mind, and she fought the urge to cry out. Jack touched her hand, and squeezed it reassuringly.
The two of them were side by side in a cramped compartment concealed beneath the flatbed of an old long-wheelbase Land Rover Defender. Master Gunnery Sergeant West was driving, and he’d explained the compartment walls were filled with countermeasures to defeat X-ray and infrared equipment. Dinara guessed at a lead lining and some sort of cooling system, but West hadn’t elaborated other than to say the vehicle was very useful for getting things into and out of the embassy in secret.
The compartment was two meters long, a little over a meter wide and thirty centimeters deep. If she took a deep breath, Dinara could feel cold steel pressing against her chest.
“You know you’re breaking every international convention,” Dinara heard West say.
The Moscow police were still running checkpoints at both ends of Bolshoy Devyatinsky Lane, and were searching every vehicle entering and exiting the embassy compound, in direct contravention of the privileges accorded to diplomats.
“If you are unhappy with your treatment, your State Department can make a formal objection to the Interior Minister,” a Russian voice replied.
The two officers above them banged away at the false flatbed, searching for anomalies. They’d find none. The hinges and catches to open the secret compartment were on the inside.
“It’s clear,” one of the men directly above them said in Russian.
Dinara heard more movement, and then the sound of the two officers jumping out of the Land Rover, their boots crunching rock salt and grit as they hit the road.
“You can proceed,” the Russian voice said, and the Land Rover rumbled forward.
They made a series of turns and a few minutes later, the chunky SUV pulled over.
“Time for coffee,” West said, using the pre-agreed phrase that signaled it was safe for them to leave their hiding place.
Dinara sensed Jack feeling for the catches, and heard him snap open three of them in rapid succession. She helped him push the heavy flatbed and squinted as her eyes adjusted to the light.
They clambered out of the tiny compartment, their presence concealed by the Land Rover’s privacy glass.
“I bet that feels better,” West remarked as they closed the false flatbed and sat on the bench seats that ran along the Land Rover’s flanks.
“You OK?” Jack asked.
Dinara nodded. “Let’s go,” she replied. “We’ve got a job to do.”
Chapter 91
Master Gunnery Sergeant West drove to Konkovo where we were supposed to meet Feo. My heart sank the moment we turned onto Maklaya Street, a quiet side road in a residential neighborhood. I saw a Moscow police patrol car directly ahead of us.
“This could get ugly,” West warned as he stepped on the brakes.
The Land Rover came to a rapid halt, and West threw it into reverse as the patrol car doors opened, but I recognized the people who stepped out of the vehicle.
“It’s OK,” I said. “That’s Feo Arapov and Anna Bolshova. They’re friends.”
West stopped the Land Rover. “You sure?”
I nodded.
West pulled over, and we got out into the bitter chill of late afternoon. The snowstorm had stopped, but dark clouds brooded and swirled overhead, promising more.
“You can’t be here,” Dinara said to Anna.
“After what happened at the embassy my superiors don’t know whether to suspend or promote me. Some of them know the official story stinks. Others are loyalists. You’ve opened a box of trouble, Mr. Morgan.”
“Happy to oblige,” I replied.
“Where are we going?” Anna asked.
We hadn’t shared our intended destination with Feo, who’d simply been instructed to provide us with a clean vehicle. We could hardly drive into the SVR complex in a US diplomatic car.
“Yasenevo,” Dinara replied.
Feo cursed in Russian, and then whistled.
“SVR Headquarters?” Anna asked. “Are you crazy? He’s the most wanted man in Russia.”
“You still want to help?” Dinara asked.
Anna thought for a moment, and then nodded. “My career will only be safe if I can expose what’s been happening. If I don’t restore my reputation, I’ll end up in records, or taking early retirement, and I can’t do that. I have to be where the action is.”
“You OK here?” West asked.
“We’re good, thanks,” I replied.
“Here’s your comms unit,” West said, reaching into the Land Rover for a small flight case Erin Sebold had given us.
“Thanks,” I said, taking it from him.
“I’d better get to the RV,” he said.
We’d arranged to meet at a different rendezvous point as a security precaution.
“Good luck.” West climbed in the Land Rover, turned the vehicle around and headed back the way we’d come.
“Well, I suppose if you’re planning to infiltrate Yasenevo, there are few things less likely to arouse suspicion than a Moscow police patrol car,” Anna remarked.
It was hard to disagree.
“Come on, let’s go,” she said. “If we’re going to die today, I’d rather not do it chilled to my soul.”
Feo smiled wryly, and Dinara and I followed them to their car.
Chapter 92
Thirty-five minutes later, we were heading east along the MKAD, a ten-lane beltway that encircled the outer regions of Moscow. Dense, snow-capped forest lay to our right, but there was a sudden break in the treeline, and I saw a white, twenty-four-story tower block rising above the sea of trees like a headstone.
“That’s it,” Dinara said.
She and I were in the back, dressed in the clothes we’d asked Feo to bring from the Residence. Dinara wore a navy blue dress, and I was in a single-breasted black suit.
A couple of kilometers further on, we left the highway and went south along a winding road that cut through the forest. Only this was no ordinary woodland road. There were camera and sensor towers every hundred meters, and everything about our approach had been logged and tracked before we reached the gatehouse.
A high wire fence marked the perimeter of the huge compound, and beyond it I saw the white tower block, and a shorter but wider building in the shape of two Y’s linked together by their stems.
A guard emerged from the gatehouse and checked Feo and Anna’s police identification. Dinara handed over the credentials Erin Sebold had provided, and the guard ran them through a handheld scanner. My heart skipped a beat when I realized he was checking them against a central database. I held my breath for what seemed an eternity, but nothing bad happened. The guard returned the IDs to Dinara and waved us through.