Anthony DeCurtis sat behind the big desk in the CIA. Being the director of such a maligned organization in the past was the type of job for which he was specifically suited. It had taken several years, but he had finally changed not only the attitude within, but the public’s perception of the agency. Finding himself in his midfifties, Anthony had begun to realize what his gray hair had been telling him for a while. It was time to get out. He had been a strong leader — one who listened to advice from his people, yet made the ultimate decisions himself.
Parting wasn’t going to be nearly as tough as recommending a successor. It was up to him to tell the president who should fill his shoes. He found that a toss-up. Oddly enough, the two candidates were headed to his office as he contemplated their personalities. He had known Levi longer than any other person in the company. Levi had stood by him through thick and thin and proved his loyalty time and again. He also knew that Levi was wrapped up in some rather dirty situations. But was there more? Levi possessed shady characteristics that Anthony found disturbing but necessary at times. This was his glaring problem. His loyalty to the CIA was unsurpassed. In that, Anthony found great comfort. With Levi, one had to take the good with the bad.
His opinion of Dan Archer was high. The biggest strike against him was his propensity to internalize failure. He needed more seasoning. Anthony had gone over his record often to find that Dan had a knack for making good choices. He came out of every operation basically intact. He had a survival instinct. It was an extremely good report for Dan, but it raised the question of failure and how he would deal with it. How would he respond when caught? How would he handle that scenario? Would he melt? That was when a director couldn’t afford to make a mistake.
His door opened, and his assistant let the two in.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” beamed Anthony.
“Hi, Tony,” Levi shot back.
“Hello, sir.” Dan placed the thumb drive on the desk.
The secretary closed the door, and the three men sat down and made themselves comfortable.
“Okay, Danny. What’s all the hubbub?”
Levi knew this was an important opportunity for him to outshine Dan. He sat forward and placed his hands on the thumb drive. “Tell you what, Tony. You listen to this first, then we’ll talk.”
For half an hour, Anthony listened to the two men speak in broken English about the destruction of the Middle East. Every so often, he would shake his head in disbelief. At the end of the conversation, he rose from his chair to get his blood circulating. Just listening to the plot seemed to wear him thin. “Are they serious?”
“Mohsen is serious, but I believe that Stemovich is playing a mark.” Levi wanted to control the conversation.
“We do understand that they are talking about a nuclear submarine with nuclear missiles, right?” Anthony wanted to reassure himself that they had all heard the same thing.
“Yes,” blurted Levi again. “It’s not going to happen, though. The deal is too easy. He wants the money. Only the money.”
“What do you think, Dan?”
“I’m not dismissing it.”
This answer made DeCurtis wheel around and examine Dan as he spoke.
“Mohsen may have concocted this little game, but Stemovich is the real threat. I read his file, and I can’t put it past him. He benefited greatly from the old Soviet system. He worked hard, did what he was told, and was extremely good at it. Then it all crashed when the party fell. He had dedicated his life, and now has nothing to show for it. He’s as likely to sell Soviet technology as anyone else. More so in fact, because he has the personal knowledge.”
Levi interjected. “I agree a little. We also have to think that it would be damn near impossible for one man to deliver a ship of that complexity. It’s impractical.”
“Isn’t that what the two hundred million is for?” asked Anthony.
Dan shifted in his seat. “Yes, but there has to be something else driving Andri to bring up a sub. Why only two hundred million? Why not five hundred million? Why not a billion? It must be more than money because the money is now easily obtainable. There has to be another reason for him to take that chance, and I didn’t hear it on the tape. I’m not certain that he’ll take the money and run. You can’t just steal a nuclear submarine out from under the Russian government’s nose unless you have a plan. We could be missing something.”
Anthony thought out loud. “A front for the Russian government? A third-party dealer? They don’t like it when people know that they are having a yard sale on some of their more expensive items.”
Dan perked up. “Exactly. If he was selling for the government, then why only ask for two hundred million when a billion was offered? Kuwait is clearly ready to spend more. No, I think it deals with him personally.”
Levi saw an opportunity to squash Dan in front of the director. “Which adds more credibility to the take-the-money-and-run scenario. Two hundred million can be hidden. One billion can’t.”
“You know, you might be right, Levi,” stated Dan.
“Oh.” Levi was caught off guard. “You agree now?”
“No, not about what he’s going to do. Your point about motivation. Stemovich’s other reason for wanting to raise the sub—”
“You think there’s something else?” Anthony asked. He was beginning to feel left out of the conversation.
“Stemovich was the perfect product of the Soviet system. He lived well, advanced, got small perks, and didn’t rock the boat. There is something there that I can’t quite put my finger on. He probably liked being on top. After all, what would he get with the two hundred million?”
“Everything he ever wanted,” snorted Levi.
“What is it that he wants? Personally?”
“Come on, Dan. Can you even guess at what it takes to run one of those things? It’s not some MIG a pilot can burn at the speed of sound and land on foreign soil. A sub takes a crew, a smart crew. It takes food, supplies, arms, and a bunch of nerds with pocket protectors. It’s impractical for one man to steal that kind of a ship. I know he’s going to fuck the Kuwait government, and I can’t say I feel all that sorry for them.” Dan’s persistence had made Levi angry, but he settled down after his outburst.
The curtness startled Dan and interrupted his thoughts. At the time, he felt he was on to something important, but now it was all washed away.
Anthony saw his solution. Two different people offering different views of the same situation. For him it would be a good way to compare and contrast the two men and find the one most fit for his job. “This has to be researched more. Correct?”
Both nodded in agreement.
“Until then we need to keep on top of this thing. What do you recommend?”
Levi didn’t hesitate. “Put a red flag on Kuwait’s banks. Watch the money transactions. I think they would be stupid enough to transfer the complete amount in one lump sum. Then we’ll tail Stemovich until he has landed in the south of France or wherever he decides to run. It’ll be over before it starts. I know that from experience.”
Dan was meeker in his response. “I agree. But I think we should begin preparing for the possibility of him fulfilling the agreement. We would be naive if we allowed the situation to fester unchecked and be ill-prepared.”
Levi butted in again. “If they did intend to go through with it — and I’m not saying that they won’t because it is a slim possibility — all we have to do is grab the cash. No money, no sub. Hell, we should grab it, anyway, and then tell them we knew about it. See if the bastards try to pull one over on us again. That’s a lot simpler than moving all branches of the CIA into action.”
Dan shot back. “Quick fixes hardly ever work.”