They waited for her to finish her thought.
"I'm going to have to talk with General Vysotsky. Sooner or later, the Russians will discover that a signal was sent from American territory. I don't want them drawing the wrong conclusions and he's our best channel to the Kremlin."
"Do you think he'll be straight with you?" Out of the corner of his eye Nick saw Selena frown.
"Probably not, at least not entirely. But it's worth a try. It's to his advantage to cooperate. That's the key with him, he's an opportunist. Besides, he's smart and he may know something we don't."
"How come we always end up bailing out the Russians?" Nick asked.
"Self interest," Harker said. "We can't let them think the US is behind this. Plus if Russia goes down, they'll take everyone else with them. We can't let it happen. We have a common enemy in whoever has that weapon. That makes Russia our friend, at least for the moment."
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend?" Lamont said. "Give me a break."
"Some friend," Ronnie said.
CHAPTER 14
Alexei Vysotsky saw that Elizabeth Harker was calling on his secured line. Circumstances had forced them into an unlikely alliance in the past. At first he'd been suspicious of her. After all, she was American, in the same business as he was. Russia had benefited from the alliance, but he had to be careful. The Cold War was back, if not as frigid as it had been in the days of Stalin and Khrushchev.
She had earned his respect. He hoped he never had to take her on as an enemy. In Alexei's inner world, that thought constituted high praise.
His curiosity was aroused. He'd met her face to face once in Denmark, and he liked her. It was too bad she was on the opposite side. He picked up his phone and allowed his considerable charm to color his voice.
"Director. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Good morning, Alexei. Or I should say afternoon, where you are. You sound well. Something's come up we need to discuss."
"Oh?"
"It concerns Novosibirsk."
"That is an internal affair, Director. We'll find the terrorists responsible."
Harker knew that the best way to work with Vysotsky was to be truthful, at least when it wasn't in conflict with security concerns.
"It's gone beyond that, General. I believe that whoever is responsible is planning something here in America as well. They are a threat to both of us."
"Go on."
"We think a satellite weapon has been developed that uses targeted radio frequencies to disrupt mental behavior and that someone used it on Novosibirsk."
"You are certain?"
"Almost certain."
Vysotsky debated with himself. Should he pretend to be surprised, or respond with the truth? He decided on truth.
"We have arrived at a similar conclusion. We couldn't believe terrorists would have such technology available. Frankly, we thought it might be a hostile move on the part of your government. Or Beijing. There are several in the Kremlin who believe this."
"Our government did not do this," Harker said. "If the situation were reversed, I am sure I would have thought Moscow or Beijing was behind it." A thought occurred to her. "Have you discovered anyone who was involved?"
How did she know that? he thought.
She seemed to read his mind. "I can hear you thinking, General. I'm right, aren't I?"
He sighed. "We have someone in custody. We are, ah, questioning him. What you would call a person of interest, yes?"
"Have you been watching American television again, Alexei?"
He laughed. "You have so many crime shows. America must be a very dangerous place, with all those persons of interest wandering around."
"Don't believe everything you see on television," she said. She paused.
Vysotsky waited. Now we're getting to it, he thought.
"We worked well together in the past, " she said. "I propose that we cooperate again. You and I both want to prevent another incident."
"What do you have in mind?"
"You have full access to whatever your people discover and I do not."
"You wish to share information?"
"If we work together, we'll be more effective than if we work alone."
"What have you discovered?"
"Nothing concrete, yet. A suspicion, only. It may lead to something or not. If it proves accurate, I'll tell you."
More than a suspicion, Vysotsky thought. "Are you thinking of sending your team here?"
"I have no plans to do so, but it could be necessary in the future. That is one reason I'm calling. I don't want there to be any misunderstandings if it becomes necessary."
Vysotsky ran through the options in his mind. The riots had shaken the Kremlin. Whoever discovered the cause would be rewarded. He had nothing to lose by cooperating with her. Harker was offering an opportunity he couldn't pass up.
"I also would like to avoid misunderstandings. If you keep me informed, I think we have an agreement. Who else knows about your suspicions? Your FBI? Langley?"
"For the time being, no one else. You know we have serious security leaks."
Not long before, there had been a rash of publicity about a high profile American defector who had ended up in Russia.
Vysotsky smiled to himself. "Yes, you do. How do you want to proceed?"
"I'll pursue this on my end. If I discover something, I'll pass it on to you. I would like you to do the same." Harker paused. "Do you have any leads yet from your person of interest?"
"Not yet. But I don't think it will be very long until I do."
Thousands of miles away on the other side of the world, Elizabeth could hear a ruthless certainty in his voice. She was glad she wasn't the one Vysotsky was questioning.
CHAPTER 15
Nick had always thought counseling was an admission of weakness. A man ought to handle things on his own had been his dominant thought almost as long as he could remember. Even so, it had finally come home to him that he had to do something about his PTSD. It gave him nightmares and headaches. It was driving a wedge between him and Selena. It interfered when he was in the field.
He'd chosen Dave Milton from a short list recommended by other vets. Milton had made Major in Special Forces, no mean feat. He'd lost an arm in Afghanistan. Those two things gave him a lot of credibility with Nick. Now he was back in Milton's office.
The doctors he'd talked to when he'd come back from the war had told him his guilt about the child was misplaced and that it wasn't his fault. That feeling guilty just made the stress worse. That was like telling him the sky was blue. Intellectually, he already knew that. But they didn't really understand. They hadn't been there. They didn't know what it felt like, but Milton did. That was the difference. Nick trusted him.
Milton was a black man, about Nick's height but a little heavier. Today he had on a blue shirt and a tie. The left sleeve of the shirt was attached with a gold safety pin against his shoulder. Milton was the kind of man who seemed at ease with himself, a man who knew who he was.
They'd been talking for a half hour. Nick told Milton what had happened at Bethesda, in a general way. Milton's clearance was good, but it only went so far.
"You're keeping something back," Milton said.
"What do you mean?"
"You just got through telling me someone tried to kill you. Again. In a parking lot here in the US, where those kinds of things aren't supposed to happen."
"You know I can't go into all the details."
"That's not what I mean."
"Then what are you talking about?"
"You haven't said one word about how you feel. You told me what happened. You didn't tell me anything else."
"How do you think I feel? How would you feel if someone started shooting at you?" Nick could feel himself tensing up.
"If you don't want to tell me how you felt in that parking lot, why not tell me how you're doing with the dreams?"
"Better," Nick said, "but the headaches are starting again."
"You remember what you discovered the last time you were here?"
"Yeah. I can get killed like anybody else. But I already knew that. I'm not sure it has much to do with the dreams or PTSD."
"It was more than that. What was the word you used, to describe how you felt? Do you remember? It's important."
"Why?"
"Why do you think?"
"Damn it, you're doing that shrink thing."
"What shrink thing?"
"Throwing questions back at me. Answering a question with a question."
"Would it do any good if I told you what I thought?"
"That's why I'm here."
"No it isn't," Milton said. "You're here because you want to stop the nightmares and the rest of it. Me telling you what I think isn't going to help you solve anything. You have to figure it out yourself."
Every time he'd been here, Nick had wanted to get up and walk out. Now he wanted to do it again. He thought about the last time he'd been in this office. He'd been talking about Afghanistan, about the day he'd almost died. About the grenade. About the child he'd killed who was trying to kill him. The scars on his body began throbbing as he thought about it. What was the word he'd used?
Helpless.
Milton saw it register on Nick's face. "Stay with it," he said. "Stay with the feeling."
"Helpless," Nick said. "Helpless is the word."
Milton was silent.