Kolovskya and Gramov left Morosov alone. He scanned the area for any personal effects. A photo of Tatiana in a small wooden frame next to the computer screen was all that remained on Piotr’s desk. She was smiling, the Eiffel Tower in the background.
Morosov leaned forward to inspect the photo. As he did so he placed his right hand flat on the desk on one side of the computer and his left hand on the other. He picked up the photo to gaze at it for a moment, then returned it to the desk, placing it on the left side of the computer. While continuing to gaze at the photo, he tapped his right index finger on the desk. The subtlest of misdirections. With a practically imperceptible movement of his left hand he inserted Piotr’s device into a port in the side of the computer, obscured by the photo frame. The magician.
Morosov straightened, looked about, and left the space. Gramov and Kolovskya met him immediately.
“I suspect security took everything?” Kolovskya asked.
“Almost. They left a photo of Tatiana. Nothing else.”
“Once security sifts through everything, they will release anything that does not relate to work. I can contact you if anything remains,” Kolovskya offered.
“That is kind of you. Thank you,” Morosov said as he conducted a mental countdown. “I suppose I will be on my way and leave you to your work.”
Morosov shook their hands and walked to the exit. Halfway there he paused, looked at his watch a moment, then turned and walked back. Gramov and Kolovskya met him just outside Piotr’s workspace.
“On reflection,” Morosov said, “I suppose I should take the photo. Tatiana would want it, I believe. Do you mind?”
Gramov and Kolovskya moved aside deferentially. “Of course not,” Kolovskya said, waving him in. “Please.”
Morosov entered the workspace and once again leaned against the desktop, briefly assuming the same pose he’d held before. Another magic trick and Piotr’s device was in his left palm. Morosov removed the photograph from the desk, nodded thanks toward Gramov and Kolovskya, and proceeded toward the elevators.
Several minutes later Piotr Egorshin’s favorite uncle, his only uncle, was walking toward his car. His stride was long, almost triumphant, not that of a man on the verge of retirement.
Upon reaching his car he turned to look at the building where his nephew had worked. That building, and the cavernous spaces beneath, held more destructive power than had been unleashed by the entire Red Army during World War II. Although it was the tyrant Stetchkin’s domain, it was Piotr, the gentlest of souls, who had made its power possible.
And Piotr, through his uncle Sergei the magician, would have his revenge.
CHAPTER 70
WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM,
AUGUST 18, 7:05 A.M. EDT
Several members of the National Security Council were waiting in the Situation Room for President Marshall. They had been summoned by White House Chief of Staff Iris Cho, who, contrary to standard practice, provided no reason for the meeting.
The assembled group consisted of Secretary of Defense Douglas Merritt, CIA Deputy Director John Kessler, Secretary of State Ted Lawrence, Secretary of Homeland Security Susan Cruz, Director of National Intelligence Joseph Antonetti, and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs Robert Taylor.
Their wait was brief. The door opened and President Marshall entered, followed by Iris Cho and James Brandt, who was led to his customary seat between Merritt and Cruz by Arlo. Marshall remained standing behind his chair, a practice he’d adopted since the EMP affair, partly out of superstition.
“Thank you for getting here on time with such short notice. I’m told the others are traveling and are unavailable for videoconference. I don’t have a specific agenda. That’s not my normal practice, I know, but this is not a normal meeting.
“What we learned from the EMP affair gave us all, I suspect, a PhD in vigilance and threat assessment. We also learned to pay attention to Mike Garin.”
There was a faint rustle in the room. The mention of the name had the effect of an injection of caffeine.
“Jim and I spoke with Garin a short time ago. He believes the Russian agent Taras Bor is here to ‘paralyze’ us, whatever that means. But, apparently, the specific word ‘paralyze’ was used by a Bor associate to describe what Bor was planning to do.”
Marshall paused to let everyone absorb what he said. He continued.
“The paralysis is to be preceded by a decoy attack consisting of suicide bombers. We have no further information about any of this, other than Bor is personally responsible for some sort of backup attack should the main attack fail.
“Now, before we go any further, keep in mind that for the time being nothing discussed here is to go beyond this room. Not even your deputies can know about this. Whoever was providing assistance to the Russians during the EMP affair is still operating. Since all of you were involved in stopping the EMP attack, I can entrust this information to you. But for now, only you. Unless, during the course of this meeting, we determine otherwise.
“There’s another component to all of this. The Russians are engaged in military maneuvers along their western border—all the way from the Baltics southward. I received some inconclusive information about this in the PDB, but nothing to suggest the troop movements were anything out of the ordinary.”
Kessler spoke up. “Mr. President, we’ve seen Russian troop presence along the borders of the Baltic states, but nothing beyond what’s noted in the PDB. We haven’t heard or seen anything that might confirm Garin’s concerns.”
Marshall looked about the room. “Anybody else?”
Secretary of State Ted Lawrence raised his hand tentatively. Regarded by many in the room as a self-promoting blowhard, even by Washington standards, he’d been chastened by his erroneous conclusions during the EMP affair. Many expected him to be replaced by Brandt after the midterm elections.
“Yes, Ted.”
“Mr. President, the troop presence near the Baltics is unremarkable. They’ve been more aggressive in that region ever since the previous administration bent over backward to make friends with them.” Lawrence struck a pedantic pose familiar to everyone who knew him. “Besides, the EMP affair was only a month ago. They have been exemplary members of the international community since then, even assisting the Western allies in the campaign against Iran. And while we’re skeptical that they were completely innocent in that affair, there really is little evidence that they did anything more than be indifferent to Iran’s efforts to strike us.”
Marshall nodded. “Thank you, Ted. But what do we make of Garin’s encounter with what he believes to be a Russian agent—or at least an associate of Bor?”
“Mr. President, not to downplay Mr. Garin’s information, but it’s no secret the Russians have scores of agents in the area,” Susan Cruz offered. “Yes, they’re up to no good, if by that we mean they are operating with Russian, not American, interests in mind. But that’s a pretty low bar. It’s true of nearly every substantial foreign power, including some of our allies.”
Several heads around the room nodded. Secretary of Defense Merritt’s was not among them.
“Mr. President,” Merritt said. “I respectfully submit that the prudent approach is to assume the worst, that the Russians are about to engage in hostile action and that such action affects the United States.”