Osborne!
Flynn had nearly forgotten he promised Osborne a call. He needed to at least let his handler know he was still alive and that there were new complications in completing the mission.
He fished out his phone and called Osborne. Come on, pick up!
After Osborne answered, Flynn wasted no time.
“It’s me, Flynn. How’s everything going?”
“Not good. What about with you? I’ve been worried since I hadn’t heard from you in a while. I thought maybe the Russians got to you.”
“Not a chance. But things here are complicated.”
“How come?”
“Lexie Martin.”
“What the heck is she doing there?”
“It’s a long story and I don’t have time to get into it. But she’s here and she’s after the missiles too — but for entirely different motives.”
“Look, you can’t let her run off with the missiles — and you don’t have much time.”
Flynn brushed off Osborne’s sense of urgency. With Osborne, everything was always on the brink of disaster.
“I know, I know. I should be able to make contact with some of our assets here and neutralize the Kuklovod tomorrow.”
“No, Flynn. You’re not listening to me. You don’t have much time. In three hours if Sandford doesn’t hear from me that you’ve secured the weapons and rescued his daughter, he’s going to send a volley of missiles into Russia. We’re only hours away from starting an unnecessary crisis, if not worse.”
“Three hours! Are you out of your mind?” Flynn could hardly wrap his mind around how he might be able to pull off the mission in such a short amount of time.
“No, I’m not out of my mind, but Sandford is. They’re threatening to kill Sydney still if he doesn’t launch the missiles within a short time frame — and he’s decided to acquiesce to their demands.”
“Can’t Briggs’ people stop him?”
“Apparently not. Some of his cabinet members are trying to revoke Sandford’s power, but those efforts have failed so far. It’s up to you at this point. So, if I don’t hear from you in the next three hours, you just might be stuck in Russia. Just pray where you are isn’t a target.”
“OK, I’ll think of something.” Flynn wondered why he had ever agreed to this fool’s errand, which now looked more like a death sentence.
“Just call me as soon as you know something. I’m counting on you.”
“That makes one of us.”
“Good luck, Flynn.”
Flynn hung up and let out another scream. The odds for completing this mission had just moved from unlikely to impossible. But it wasn’t going to stop him from trying.
CHAPTER 55
Gerald Sandford paced in his office. He managed to bully his way into position to cave to the Kuklovod’s request — but at what cost? His rogue actions would indeed cost him every ounce of power he sacrificed to obtain. But he considered it worth it. Anything just to see his sweet Sydney’s face again.
His phone rang and it was Diane Dixon.
“I think we need to talk,” she said.
“About what?”
“You know what — restoring the presidency to its rightful owner.”
“Diane, there’s nothing more I would rather do than give the office back to Arthur, but he can’t lead. He’s still in a coma.”
“And who told you that?”
“I saw him myself at Walter Reed.”
“That’s hardly possible since he’s up and moving about. Gerald, you’ve always been a terrible liar.”
“I’m not lying. I’m calling your bluff. I know what you’re trying to do — and so help me God once this is over with, I’m going to destroy you.”
“Don’t you threaten me, Gerald. You might have everyone else believing your story — but I know the truth. I know you never saw him. You won’t either. In fact, I doubt you’ll ever see your office again after today. I know what you did at Strategic Command, and I plan to let the American people know about it too. You don’t have to do this.”
“You have no idea what I have to do or why I have to do it. But your threats bear no weight on me. I’m doing this for the good of the country.”
“Stop lying to yourself. You’re doing this to avenge Sydney’s death — plain and simple. You’re a bitter man and you’re doing to die that way, disgraced as you leave public office. I’m going to make sure of that.”
“You do what you’ve got to do, Diane. Just know there’s always a price for such actions. I’m sure your sixteen-year-old daughter would love to find out tomorrow on national television that her father is actually Arthur Briggs. Talk about your scandals.”
Diane went silent, so much so that Sandford wondered if she hung up.
“Diane? Diane? You still there?”
“Yes,” she mumbled.
“Good. I just want to you to understand that when you force my hand, you’re not going to like what you see. There’s more of your dirty little laundry I wouldn’t mind airing if necessary. So, just quit passing around that forged little document and keep quiet while I do what Arthur Briggs can’t right now — lead a nation.”
He hung up, hoping never to hear from Diane again. She always rubbed him the wrong way, especially after Arthur told him their dirty little secret one night after having a few too many glasses of Scotch. Sandford never mentioned it again — until now. He knew it was the kind of information that would one day serve a useful purpose.
It was eight-thirty and still no call from Osborne.
Sandford took another call from his new general at Strategic Command with a list of all the target sites. Twelve missiles in all were set to launch toward Russia, inflicting severe damage if they all hit their targets. The casualties would be in the hundreds of thousands, according to early prognostications.
Sandford looked over the list: Moscow, St. Petersburg, Perm, Novosibirsk, Omsk, Kazan, Tyumen, Khanty-Mansiysk. Just a bunch of names of cities.
He authorized the list and faxed it back to Strategic Command.
CHAPTER 56
Flynn gathered his gear and headed out the door. If Lexie intended to taunt him by leaving his gear around so he could see it while chained to her bed, she failed. But he felt as if failure might be imminent for his own mission. Three hours to infiltrate the Kuklovod’s base camp and secure the missiles? He placed the odds of succeeding just below achieving world peace.
But odds meant there was always a chance — and this was a chance worth taking.
Flynn took a taxi to one of the more popular trailheads just north of town that ran along the Ob River. He estimated it was at least an hour’s hike across the rugged terrain of the ascending Urals to reach the secluded base camp. Less than a hundred yards after walking down the marked trail, Flynn veered off into a heavily wooded area. Relying on CIA satellite imaging topography maps, he marched toward his destination. The sun edged down toward the nearest mountain's apex for the evening and then slipped behind it. The natural light wouldn’t last much longer.
Through the woods he trudged, splitting his time between thinking about his plan and retracing the steps that led him here. Execution was simple if all of Osborne’s intel proved accurate. But he knew better than to count on that. Such folly led to the early demise of many naïve agents. You know what you know. It was a mantra he developed a long time ago while on a mission in Angola. He was tasked with meeting an informant in a rural farming area. The informant reportedly knew all the details about a terrorist camp the CIA noticed on satellite surveillance. To Flynn, nothing seemed difficult about the assignment. Pose as an aid worker with an organization doing regular work there, deliver some seeds to a local farmer, get the information, go home. Simple. Yet it proved to be anything but that.