It would take mere hours.
28
Much like Li Na Wei, the older and much more calculating Dima Belov was also fighting for his life. Banking it, in fact, on the set of satellite pictures he’d given to Admiral Koskov — a political gamble on a man as unscrupulous as any he’d ever met. But by then it was all he had.
And so far, he’d been told exactly nothing.
Instead, he’d been taken from his cell in the middle of the night and led in handcuffs to a waiting, unmarked van. The black doors at the rear were already open when Belov was pushed forcefully inside, landing hard on his chin before rolling onto his right side. Belov was thankful there was no gag, so clearly someone knew that he was not stupid enough to try to call for help.
There were only two possibilities now. Either he was being taken to be executed, or he still held some speck of value for someone. Belov prayed it was the latter. And that the allure of immortality was still alive in the minds of Koskov and his superiors. Because the higher the secret went, the higher the chances were that someone would want to keep Belov alive.
The billionaire twisted himself against the cold metal into a slightly more comfortable position. He would know soon enough whether or not his gamble had paid off. A bet that human greed would once again prevail.
Belov estimated the trip at three hours in when he felt the van slow considerably and finally pull to a stop.
The most torturous three hours of his life.
Each passing minute left him clinging increasingly to the hope that this wouldn’t be his last day on Earth. A truly surreal thought. Intellectually, every person knew their last day would come eventually. As certain as night became day, and yet still unexpectedly. But even the acceptance that one day would eventually be their last never stopped them from praying it would be a different day.
Any day but today.
It had been Belov’s only thought for three long hours. Until the rear doors of the van were suddenly yanked open, and the bright sunlight washed over him, lying there helpless and afraid.
Large hands grabbed each arm and pulled him out of the vehicle. The old man tried to stand but only made it onto a knee before he toppled forward, hitting the hard cold ground. The same hands hauled him, stumbling, to his feet where the dizziness faded, and he caught a glimpse of his location.
The low-lying hills were heavily developed in every direction. Trees and other vegetation gave way to wide swaths of industrialized sections of land, all along the coast and facing outward over the waters of the Black Sea. A huge mass filled with dozens of large naval ships and submarines, most of which were resting idly in the cool gray-blue waters of the most strategic peninsula in the world.
Considered by many to have been wrested from the hands of Ukraine, the Crimean Peninsula was the single most important naval hub for all of modern-day Russia. A country whose majority of native shores and naval bases were located along Earth’s most northern oceans, and locked in by ice most of the year. A warm water base like Sevastopol in Crimea was of critical importance for the former superpower to have faster access to the greater Atlantic Ocean and the rest of the “political” world.
Belov recognized the base immediately.
The moment he recognized the area of Sevastopol, he was yanked again, stumbling forward.
He shuffled quickly and glanced at the men on either side. Large and strong, he recognized neither. They looked relatively young with faces that were hard and chiseled, and unquestionably military.
Neither of the two men paid him any attention. Instead, they headed for a door on one side of a nearby building. A warehouse surrounded by a dozen more just like it. All old and worn. Though clearly still operational.
One of the men flung the door open, and without missing a stride, stormed up a narrow set of stairs.
Belov was sandwiched between the two hulking frames and tried desperately to get a foot on each stair as they ascended. It wasn’t until they pushed through a doorway at the top that the older man finally lost his balance. After being shoved forward into the large room, Belov hit the ground and remained sprawled in front of a wide wooden desk.
When the first words were spoken, he recognized the voice immediately.
Behind the desk sat Admiral Koskov, joined by another younger man.
“Get up,” he commanded flatly.
The admiral watched Belov struggle with some amusement before adding, “You’re not that old.”
Belov remained silent and at last managed to stand only to find Koskov smirking at him. The second man, dressed in a captain’s uniform, bore no expression at all.
The old office surrounding them looked to be completely abandoned except for the desk and chairs. But what really unnerved Belov was the material he was standing on.
Only then did he raise his head and notice the gun sitting on the desk in front of Koskov, with the admiral’s hand resting only centimeters away. When his eyes rose to meet the admiral’s eyes, all signs of humor had disappeared from the man’s face.
“If you’re surprised to still be alive, so too am I,” the larger man said. “It seems some important people also want to know what the Americans are doing.”
Belov did not answer. His eyes flickered to the captain then back to Koskov.
“But one thing we all agree on,” he continued, “is that you know more than you’re telling us.” Koskov glanced past Belov to ensure the other two had left. “So, you will tell me everything. Now. Or when my men return it will be to wrap you in the plastic you are standing on.”
Belov swallowed. “Of course.”
“Beginning with the Forel.”
Nodding his head, Belov thought for a moment. Most of what he’d told them about the Forel was accurate. The retrofit, the skeleton crew, and what they found. Everything except the final piece. He paused, contemplating where it had all gone wrong. Why he was now standing where he was.
“The Chinese warship,” he said slowly, “was to transfer its cargo to the Forel before.”
“Before what?”
“Before our Forel sank it.”
Koskov’s eyes narrowed. “Who was your agent?”
“A man named Wang Chao. A lieutenant charged with the excavation of the find. Working under General Wei of the People’s Liberation Army.”
“And how did you discover him?”
“We were introduced by a mutual friend in Pakistan. The two needed funding.”
None of this had surprised Koskov. He’d known Belov for years and was well aware of the other things he’d been involved in. But it was the next question that Koskov was most interested in.
“Who did you bribe on the Forel?”
Belov didn’t react physically. He had been waiting for this. His next word was spoken calmly.
“Ivchenko.”
Koskov’s eyes suddenly widened, and his mouth opened before he quickly shut it. There was no hiding his surprise. Ivchenko was one of the best captains in the Russian fleet. He was one of Koskov’s finest. Losing him had been devastating. But now, to find out he’d been bought, by Belov of all people, was almost beyond belief.
Koskov simply stared at the man, dumbfounded. When he finally spoke, it was with anger.
“You lie.”