“Now what?”
“Well, now we need to get into the city to get a track on the number.”
“How’s that done?” Anya asked.
“This device will pick up the number if we’re near the towers it is bouncing off.” Donald exited the map and shut down the computer. “But we can’t do it from here.”
“So we go to Moscow.”
“We go to Moscow, Sasha. And we have to develop a plan. This farmhouse has done its job. It’s time for us to move to the city.” Donald unplugged the device and slid it into his pocket. “We begin hunting tomorrow.”
Day Sixteen
Moscow
The car pulled onto the thoroughfare that ran parallel to the track of the cell towers. Sasha and Donald pulled to the side, bringing the nondescript vehicle to a stop. The day was nearly half gone when they exited and began to walk up the street. The wind that had punished the area at dawn’s light, had finally relented. Under other circumstances, it would have been a beautiful day for a stroll.
“Quite the area.”
“It’s an up and coming business district. I’m sure it’s no different than all the ones back home.” Donald was careful not to talk specifically about America, never using the words that could link him to the US. “Years ago, this place was nothing but a run-down slum.”
“You couldn’t tell it now.”
“New money has a way of doing that, freedoms that the Russian mafia has more than taken advantage of.” Donald pulled his coat tight around his chest as a gust funneled down the street.
“So, what do we do now, just wait for the phone to ring?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Donald looked up at the neon signs advertising nearly everything the young and growing middle class of Russia could want. It was bars and cars and young people testing their limits on a nightly basis.
“It’s kind of like a young Atlantic City, without all the fun stuff, like an ocean and beach. But the younger crowd is flush with money and they’re drawn here. The mafia likely runs or owns most of this.”
“So how does someone of your background know so much about mafia connections?”
“When you keep your ear to the street for political reasons, you’d be surprised what you pick up on. Corruption loomed large in the early days after the Soviet government fell. Politics and greed rolled hand in hand.” Donald stopped and looked up and down the street. “I figured we’d take a look at some of the buildings and get a feel for what they’re like.”
“Such as room size, large room and small room venues.”
“Exactly,” Donald replied. “If it does come down to a firefight in an area like this, the training you’ve done will come in handy.”
“And if it’s somewhere else?”
“Then you rely on your military training, and we improvise.”
“We?”
“You never know sir. I may be along for the ride,” Donald said. “You just never know.”
They pulled open the door next to where they stood as three young ladies approached. Sasha nodded as they giggled and stepped inside. He shrugged his shoulders with a slight grin and extended his arm, pointing the way in.
“When in Rome,” he said with a smile.
The club was dingy, the burning neon filtered by the smoke that hung in the stale air. Sasha thought it was just like any other dive bar he had ever been in. Change the language to English, and young people were just that all over the world, young people looking to hook up with other young people. They slid up to the bar and ordered a beer.
“Not quite what I’m used to,” Sasha said.
“You get used to it.”
“How long do you think we’ll have to wait?”
“Hard to say, actually. I suppose it depends on how impatient they really are.”
“Greed begets greed, I suppose,” Sasha replied. “If what’s really happening is happening, that’s big money. The faster things ramp up, the faster the money lines the pockets. But at some point, someone has to realize that money won’t just gush in. It has to be rolled.”
“And that’s what organized crime does. They roll money. They bury money where no one else can find it.”
“Just like the cop shows?”
“Just like them, Sasha. Art imitates life.”
The Baltic Sea
“Commander, flash traffic on ELF.”
“Take her up slowly, Flip. Let’s see what the message is.”
“Aye sir.”
“Captain to the conn.” The boat’s XO placed the mic back in its clip. He knew the captain would be in shortly. “Flip, let me know when we have it.”
The USS Columbus rose slowly in the dark waters of the Baltic Sea. The hum of the communications mast was barely audible within the conn as the shaft broke the surface of the water. They were up and down in less than five minutes, the boat riding near the surface in the relatively shallow sea. The captain of the boat walked into the conn as Ensign ‘Flip’ Morse handed the communication to the XO.
“What’s it say, Tull?”
“Good evening sir.” The XO looked up as the captain made the scope. “I guess we know why we’re here now,” Tull said as he handed the message over. “We’re to move up the coast, standby and prepare for support of an ongoing mission within Russia. And we’re to stay covert.”
“No shit,” Captain Dawson replied. “I wonder what the hell is going on?” He looked at the waterfall display to see their position. He’d been asleep for a couple hours. He felt slightly better, but this cold was still hanging on. “We’re not all that far from the Polish coast,” Dawson wondered aloud. “I wonder if we’re to get as close to Russia as possible? That would mean near the Gulf of Riga.” Dawson looked down at the message again before handing it to his XO. “Make these coordinates, Commander.”
“Aye sir.” Tull turned to issue the order. “Conn, make your heading zero two zero.” Tull looked at the sounding below the hull. It was deeper here than anywhere they had been coming through the Belt. “Make your depth one hundred feet. All ahead one-third. Let’s not hit anything on the bottom if we don’t have to.”
“New heading zero two zero, dive planes down five degrees, come to depth one hundred feet, conn aye.”
Dawson nodded, giving Tull a quick ‘thumbs up’. His young XO had the boat for another two hours. He would take the conn at the headwaters of the gulf. He turned and headed back out the opening. Time for something to eat.
Day Eighteen
Moscow
Two days passed, the time dragging as the mission team had little to occupy their time outside of the farm. With only one device that could track the cell number, there wasn’t much for them to do. Ivan sat on a dingy couch in a safe house, flipping cards towards a bowl. He sighed as he missed for the sixth consecutive time.
“You just gonna sit there and do that all night?” Commander Jen ‘Polina’ Lewis asked. She looked around the room. It was as spartan as any she could remember. “God I wish I had something to do.”
“Why don’t we go out and just check out the neighborhood?”
“We have our orders, Anya.”
“Our orders didn’t include dying from boredom.”
“It’s part of what happens in covert situations,” Donald replied as he entered the room. “I’m not immune to your situation. I’ve spent many a night just sitting, doing nothing. It’s also not good for the body. I don’t know how long it will be before we get another hit from the cell, so all of you need to get out for a bit.”
“Where to?”
“Since Sasha and I have been hanging around the bar locale, we thought it might be a good idea to get your eyes on it too.”
“Why,” Anya asked.