“You two,” Mikhail said, pointing a finger at each, “I believe hold the same coin but see different sides.” Mikhail laid the pictures of the Saratov on the desk. “There are a lot of questions lately about submarines in general, mostly about this one.”
The other two remained tight-lipped, neither wanting to say what he knew.
Mikhail pried some more. “Kenneth shows me pictures of this sub, which we think is very heavily automated. Dan asks questions about crew complement on Typhoon class subs. Very similar inquiries from two very different people. I believe that this vessel could be the same answer to different situations.”
Sukudo sat forward. “What situation? We were only concerned because it’s a new design. The sub sits on the ocean floor. There is no situation for us.” Again he fibbed. He was concerned about the sub. He was concerned that it might resurface before they could prepare for such a machine. That was his situation.
Dan tried to fit the pieces. He could be making something out of nothing, but he wasn’t willing to let it slide yet. He decided to say what he knew. “There could be a development in the Middle East. A certain country would purchase a nuclear boat and raise hell over Baghdad.” Before he knew it, he blurted it out, catching Mikhail and Kenneth both off guard. They took a second to regain their composure.
“Let the bastards die.” Kenneth was the first to reply.
“You do understand the magnitude of the task?” said Mikhail.
“Yes. There are a few but very qualified personnel on the situation. Some in my organization believe that it is a ploy to steal money, nothing more. I wasn’t convinced, so I dug a little deeper, and there was always something to lead me further.”
“Stemovich.” Mikhail recalled the look on Dan’s face when he had suggested him as the designer. “It’s him?”
Dan’s silence confirmed the statement.
“Isn’t that one of the names you gave us?” remarked Sukudo.
“He’s the one I think is the most probable.”
Mikhail gazed at the pictures again. “Yes, Stemovich.”
Kenneth was uncomfortable being left in the dark. “I think it’s time to put the cards on the table. I know where this sub is. It’s at the bottom of the Barents. My concern is that it could be recommissioned before we have any information on it. Now, what do you know and how does it fit in with this situation?”
Since Sukudo seemed to come clean Dan decided that it would be best if he told all. After all, if you can’t trust an admiral, who can you trust? “Kuwait has hatched a grand scheme to build a missile boat that would destroy Baghdad and place the blame squarely on the shoulders of Israel. I don’t have to tell you the political mess that would stir up around the world. Who would side with whom? It is that mess that they would count on to give them the opportunity to slip out of OPEC and increase their oil production.”
“To achieve this they went to a Russian, one Andri Stemovich, who makes his residence in Crimea. They made him an offer, and he accepted. To move things along, he suggested that the best course of action would be for them to purchase a sub, which he could provide. Kuwait seemed to agree. We don’t know which sub, though. This one in the pictures appears to be the favorite by circumstance. After all, if you were going to steal a sub, wouldn’t you go after the best? Especially if you had created it?”
Kenneth didn’t know where to start asking questions. “Is this really possible? It takes a whole mess of personnel to maintain one of those vessels.”
“We know Kuwait is serious. We don’t know if Stemovich is. I’ll tell you, I’m the only one who thinks he could be. The rest believe that he’ll just stiff the Arabs.”
“Who’s ‘the rest’?”
“Can’t say.”
“Have steps been taken to prevent this from happening?”
“In my opinion, mild ones.”
The men sat in silence, pondering the ramifications.
“What do you think, Mik?”
Mikhail was alarmed by the information. “It is a rather momentous undertaking, this stealing of the submarine. But money can get anything in Russia, perhaps even that.”
“So Stemovich will go through with it?” asked Dan.
“Do you think he will?” replied Mikhail.
“His bio leans that way.”
“Revenge is what he’s thinking,” answered Mikhail. “Understand one thing. Submariners are a strange lot. They keep to themselves, enjoying the isolation and camaraderie on the ship. In the outside world, they are men without a home. Most importantly, this fraternity is earned. Stemovich was inserted in it because he was a prized engineer. He’s the outsider on the inside. I don’t know if he could muster a crew. The men have to want to follow their captain, mostly out of respect.”
“Then he can’t crew the ship?” Dan was a little lost.
“It is his weakness. It will be his biggest obstacle. He might be able to assemble something. Depends on how prepared he is. The other question is why? I’m not convinced that he would do this exclusively for the Kuwaitis. He could have another purpose in mind.”
“How about him stealing the money?” Sukudo asked.
Mikhail shrugged. “We’re sitting here trying to measure a man we don’t really know. I’d be careful and prepare for the worst.”
There was no hesitation for Sukudo. He picked up a black phone that lacked any buttons. “Hello, get me NI.” Unflinching, he returned his attention to Dan. “How close are they to getting the boat?”
“I would hope we still have a week at least. Kuwait has to come up with the cash.”
“That’s elementary,” Sukudo replied, then turned his attention to the phone. “Yeah, this is Admiral Sukudo. I need Russian operations director zero-zero-four-three.” He glanced at Mikhail. “You know we’ll need to get someone on board. Someone who knows subs and speaks Russian.”
“Stemovich will know Mikhail a mile away,” said Dan.
“He’s not talking about me. He’s talking about Nicholas.”
“Nicholas?”
Sukudo waited for his connection. “Nick. Nick Shaw. A do-everything man. One tough as nails sub driver who speaks fluent Russian with a Latvian accent. US Navy until an early deferment and engineer in his own right. And he flies.”
“My grandson,” added Mikhail.
CHAPTER NINE
Never Do Business with a Relative
George was somewhere between reality and the twilight zone. His seat on the 747 was comfortable. It should have been, since he was flying first class. He couldn’t believe he was headed back to Kuwait. Neither could he believe that Levi Carp was as big an asshole as to remind him that he still had two months’ obligation left. Years with no vacations, and the CIA couldn’t let him go early. “Unbelievable,” he murmured. Everyone else on the plane was asleep. George stared at the back of the seat in front of him and pictured the conversation he had had with the asshole. He remembered Sharon standing next to the door looking like a freight train had run her over. He knew she had had her butt chewed before he got there, and he pitied her.
That wasn’t the worst of it, though. Behind closed doors, Levi had berated him for being sloppy. George couldn’t figure out what he was talking about until Levi let on about the old woman in Sevastopol.
“You killed her?” asked George.
“She was a test. You should have known that. My men watched you the whole way. Their report is that you’re sloppy and amateurish.”
“It was your men who ransacked the room?”
“You bet. We had to make sure you didn’t leave anything behind. You can thank God we were there.”
“Was it necessary to kill the old woman? She didn’t know anything.” George couldn’t believe what he was hearing.