State Of The Union

“And where is this pickup supposed to happen?”

Harvath began walking toward the front door of the church. “We’re not exactly picking one up. It’s being delivered. Have you ever been to Archangel City before? I’ll buy you dinner on the way and explain the rest of the plan.”

Alexandra followed him out the door and into the snow. The sun had set and the air had grown bitterly cold. She couldn’t help wondering if the three hours Harvath had spent in the dome of the church hadn’t somehow affected his brain.

Chapter 44

SOMEWHERE OFF THE KOLA PENINSULA, WHITE SEA, RUSSIA

STATE OF THE UNION ADDRESS-2 DAYS

The next day, when Milesch Popov’s name came up on Stavropol’s Caller ID, he thought it must be some kind of a joke. Not only was Popov dead, but the police had found his bullet-riddled cell phone near the crime scene. There was no way it could be him calling. Immediately, Stavropol was on guard. Somehow, someone had connected him with that contemptible street thug. This was a distraction he did not need at the moment, as he was already preoccupied with pinning the murders of Generals Primovich, Karganov, and Varensky on Popov and a “wayward” accomplice. At this point, all they needed to do was locate the accomplice. Draegar had assured them that he had the situation well in hand, but just as in Berlin, he had once again disappointed them.

Stavropol had come to the conclusion that Draegar might no longer be a reliable asset and he would have to do the job himself, as he activated his Sat phone and tentatively took the call. “Da?”

“Comrade General, I hope I am not catching you at an inopportune time,” said the voice on the other end.

Stavropol didn’t need to ask who was calling. He could guess whom the voice belonged the minute he heard the first words. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. It was better than he could have hoped. She was the perfect person to frame as the wayward accomplice who had assisted Popov in killing Primovich, Karganov, and Varensky. “Agent Ivanova. It is a pleasure to hear from you, but how did you get my telephone number?”

Alexandra knew he was toying with her, but had been counseled to play along with him, to an extent. “I removed the SIM card from Milesch Popov’s phone right after he tried to kill me.”

“An unfortunate misunderstanding,” said Stavropol, who had not even thought about the SIM card. When he had gotten a hold of the police report detailing the evidence from the murder scene, including the damaged phone, he had assumed that Popov had taken the secret of their relationship with him to the grave. Obviously, he had been wrong.

“I think the misunderstanding here,” continued Alexandra, “is in your failing to recognize what a useful asset I could prove to be.”

Stavropol smiled. “Now it is you who must forgive me for disbelieving. I am well aware of what your father most likely told you.”

“Indeed. My father told me everything and as far as I am concerned, he was a fool to try and get in your way. He let his misguided feelings overrule his duty and obligation to his country.”

“Very convincing, Agent Ivanova. The SVR has taught you well, though you cannot believe that I would fall under your spell so easily. I know what you are doing.”

“What am I doing?”

“You were seen with Dr. Nesterov, as well as the American, Scot Harvath. You have been colluding with them in order to achieve your father’s reckless pursuits.”

“And I told you my father was a fool. I was using Nesterov for bait.”

Stavropol was momentarily taken aback. “Bait?How so?”

“I used him to lure the American.”

“But why? Why get involved at all?”

“Because I was interested in clearing my father’s name. Up until his death, I had only heard rumors and innuendos about his sedition. When I asked him, he would always deny it. Then on his deathbed, he made me aware of a dossier he had compiled.”

Stavropol had suspected as much, but his clean teams had never been able to find anything. There was nothing in Viktor Ivanov’s office or in his residence. “What dossier?”

“My family rented a garden plot outside the city. He buried the dossier there.”

Stavropol was fuming. Therewas a dossier, and his men had missed it. Viktor Ivanov had indeed been a cunning operative. Stavropol had wanted to kill him a long time ago when they had the chance, regardless of what information he might have compiled, but he knew that the man’s untimely demise, no matter how accidental it might have looked would have caused more trouble than it was worth. Instead, they silently drummed him out of the KGB. As it stood, when the Americans turned their backs on Ivanov and Stavropol was able to leak the story, a cloud of treason hung over Viktor Ivanov until his dying day and was enough to guarantee that no one ever trusted, much less listened to him ever again.

“And that dossier is what led you to General Karganov?” asked Stavropol, trying to put the pieces together.

“As well as Dr. Nesterov.”

“Where is the dossier now?”

“I’ve hidden it somewhere for safekeeping.”