Black Flagged Redux (39 page)

The evidence gathered in Monchegorsk would be the tipping point. Audra expected their package to make its way to the White House immediately after the meeting. From that point forward, it would likely be out of their hands. Pictures of the Russian Army Mobile Battlefield feed had also been sent to Reuters in London, and nobody could predict the fallout that would ensue from worldwide exposure of the Russians’ siege in Monchegorsk.

Russian military authorities had been careful with their wording of the orders, and Berg saw no mention of an epidemic in any of the digital images taken from the battalion commander’s MBT. The word "insurgency" was used in place of "epidemic", and the infected were called "insurgents." Russian military orders to shoot insurgents on sight would provoke international outrage, and the United Nations would demand an investigation, but the Russians weren't likely to bow to this pressure. Berg didn't think that the world would discover the true scope of Monchegorsk's tragedy within a useful timeframe, so with Kaparov's help, Berg still planned to send Sanderson's team after Reznikov.

He didn't trust the speed at which the White House bureaucracy would react to the threat. Their only hope of quickly discovering the true implications of the Kazakhstan laboratory remained with the Russian scientist. There was little doubt that he had poisoned Monchegorsk, with cataclysmic results. At this point, Reznikov's link to Al Qaeda was purely circumstantial and in most cases, anecdotal. They needed time sensitive information that couldn't wait for weeks of sleep deprivation and waterboarding in a secret location. If the virus had been mass produced for Al Qaeda, which he suspected, the West might be looking at days, instead of weeks, before a massive coordinated biological attack. He needed Sanderson's team to find Reznikov before the Russians silenced him.

Chapter 39

10:25 AM

U.S. Embassy

Buenos Aires, Argentina

Special Agent Susan Castaneda examined her computer screen again, absorbing the details of the email sent by her lunchtime friend in the Argentine Federal Police. She had heard rumors of a particularly nasty murder scene in Palermo Soho involving Serbian nationals and had placed a call to Agent Federico Mariano. He had clearly anticipated her call because an email appeared while they chatted about their next lunch date. After opening the attached digital pictures, food was the furthest thing from her mind.

The crime scene photographs had taken her breath away, along with her appetite. Agent Castaneda had never seen that much blood and carnage in one place, even in the movies. Dark red blood covered most of the white marble floor in the living room, sprayed against the walls and kitchen cabinets. She counted at least eight bodies crumpled in various positions on the floor. The bedroom was the real shocker, and she couldn't help but gasp and stare at the pictures, trying to make sense of them.

The bright white bedspread was splattered with dark red clumps and brighter blood stains. A body lay slumped on the floor in front of the bed. It took her a few moments to figure out what had happened to the other body. A half undressed, badly slashed man had been strapped into a steel and leather harness contraption that suspended him a few feet off the floor in an extremely vulnerable, belly up position. His unsupported head tilted back and downward, above a pool of blood. She didn't envy the coroner's job on this one.

She finished reading Agent Mariano's assessment and dialed Agent Sharpe.

"Special Agent Ryan Sharpe," he answered.

"Ryan, it's Susan Castaneda from the embassy in Buenos Aires."

"Hi, Susan. Great to hear from you! Thank you again for the information you passed along. I can't go into details, but it proved to be extremely helpful."

"I'm really glad to hear that. I miss investigative work. Not much in the way of that down here. Hey, I ran across something this morning that might interest you. A bunch of Serbian immigrants and a few Serb nationals were found dead in a high end condominium high-rise yesterday. Strange circumstances to say the least."

"Another sponsored attack like the others?"

"My contact doesn't think so. I just sent you an email with all of the details and some pretty nasty crime scene photos. The condominium was owned by an Argentinian couple. Security cameras in the lobby show that the wife was staying there alone this weekend. The lobby is occupied by a security concierge twenty-four/seven and the night shift guard confirmed that she was alone. The day guard was killed during the attack. Bottom line, we have ten dead Serbs in the apartment. Federal Police are investigating the possibility that a sniper fired into the condominium. A few of the windows facing a hotel across the street were shattered and at least two of the men were hit by rifle caliber projectiles. Weapons found in the room fired 9mm. Security cameras caught a man and woman leaving through the back lobby door shortly before police arrived."

"You have pictures of them?"

"Yes. The last six pictures were taken from the security cameras and the pictures labeled 'Russo' were taken by security for visual identification reference. The building had decent security. Nobody gets in or out, unless their identity is confirmed."

"Sounds like a lot of unauthorized people got in that day," he said. "Here it is. Russo."

The line went silent for several seconds.

"Everything all right?" she asked.

"Uh…yes. Susan, do me a huge favor and keep these photos out of circulation. I need to make an urgent phone call. Thank you again. Sorry to be abrupt…I have to go."

The line went dead in Susan's ears.

"That was strange," she muttered.

She opened the digital pictures of the Russos and arranged them side by side. Natalia Russo was stunningly beautiful, but not really her type. Glamour girl for sure. The earrings looked like they could cost more than her entire outfit. She liked the confident expression on Natalia's face, though. Almost cocky. Susan liked women with attitude. Dario Russo was handsome in every traditional way, but in a different league than Natalia. Still, they made an attractive couple. She studied Dario Russo's picture for a few more seconds. For some reason, he looked familiar to her. She closed her eyes and concentrated.

"No way," she whispered.

She navigated through the FBI intranet on her second monitor for several seconds, until a face filled the screen. She compared the two images.

"No shit," she said out loud.

Dario Russo's picture identically matched Daniel Petrovich, also known as Marko Resja. Wanted for several counts of murder and domestic terrorism? She scanned a list of known associates and saw the name of his wife, Jessica Petrovich. Her picture appeared on the screen and she compared it to Natalia Russo. Another exact match. She was wanted for assaulting a federal agent and conspiracy to commit murder. She was also classified as a domestic terrorist. No wonder it sounded like Agent Sharpe had swallowed his phone. She'd give Sharpe some time to formulate his own response before she passed the discovery on to her boss back in D.C. They'd make the call on what to do with the information.

The next picture she examined was the best shot taken from the security camera and showed Natalia, bloodied and bruised, in the lobby with a man that clearly wasn't Dario Russo. Interesting. She closed the file and sat back in her seat, wondering if she should send the picture of the man in the harness contraption to Agent Dan Bailey. It might curtail his extracurricular activities and restore some dignity to the legal attaché's office in Buenos Aires. She laughed out loud at the thought, after deciding it would probably only serve to give him another bad idea.

Chapter 40

8:32 AM

FBI Headquarters

Washington, D.C.

Frederick Shelby pressed the blinking red button on his office phone. "Agent Sharpe, good to hear from you. Things are shaping up nicely on my end. Nothing I can share with you at the moment, I'm afraid. Margaret said this was important?" he said.

"Very important. I just received several digital photos from our legal attaché in Argentina. The photos confirm that Daniel and Jessica Petrovich are living in Buenos Aires," Sharpe said.

"These are recent photos?"

"The Petroviches went by the names Dario and Natalia Russo. Ten Serbians were found massacred in their high-rise condominium. Jessica managed to escape the carnage. We don't think Daniel was in town at the time of the attack."

"Who attacked whom?"

"That's unclear at the moment, though I'd put my money on the Serbians attacking Jessica."

"She killed ten men by herself?"

"No. She had help. I have a picture of her being escorted out of the building by Jeffrey Munoz."

"Sweet lord. This seals it," the director said.

"That's what I thought," Sharpe said.

"Keep this quiet for now. In a few days, it won't matter. The last thing we need right now is for Daniel's picture to be linked to this mess. Interpol will attach a red flag to Russo's passport, and I guarantee Sanderson will be notified. We don't want to give Sanderson any reason to pack up and vanish. I'll handle the legal attaché in Buenos Aires."

"Understood. We'll keep digging into the finances. You should already have an email from me, with the Legat's assessment and the pictures."

"Thank you, Ryan. This will help ease some minds on Capitol Hill. I'll be in touch," he said and hung up the phone.

Frederick Shelby immediately opened the pictures, which filled his screen.

"Christ, that's a lunch killer," he said, minimizing the image of Josif Hadzic's suspended body.

Chapter 41

8:45 AM

CIA Headquarters

Langley, Virginia

Thomas Manning interlocked his fingers and turned away from the forty-two-inch flat-screen monitor mounted to his office wall. Audra waited for him to speak. Surprisingly, she hadn't been nervous about this meeting. The potential disaster looming over the United States and its European allies dwarfed the potential issues raised by the breaches of protocol and procedure she had authorized. If Manning chose to focus on these aspects instead of a confirmed bioweapons threat, there was nothing she could do about it. She didn't know Thomas Manning well enough to make a personal assessment of how he would respond, but he had a solid reputation for being practical. Still, nobody rose to the rank of National Clandestine Service director without a solid foundation in political maneuvering. This was the only facet of Thomas Manning that concerned her.

"We have a serious problem on our hands. Don't make any plans for the day and cancel any meetings you have scheduled. I expect to walk this up to the director's office within the hour. From there, we'll be on immediate standby to meet with the national security advisor. I can't imagine the Helsinki lab will sit on these results for very long, and if Reuters can confirm any of the story passed to them from Monchegorsk, this will break wide open. The White House will want to stay slightly ahead of this, if that's even possible at this point."

"The lab assured me complete discretion. I reinforced the need for that discretion with some scary-looking operatives and cash, which was accepted."

"I'm not even going to ask any questions about who you have running around Europe," he said.

"You really don't want to know," she said.

"I bet I don't," he said and paused before continuing. "Excellent work on this, Audra. All of it."

"Thank you, sir," she said.

"Now that I got that out of the way, I needed to know about the Predator drone as soon as you requisitioned it," he said.

"But you wouldn't have authorized an armed Predator drone for this mission. Nobody would have, based on the scant information available at the time," she said.

"And your initiative in the case still falls under the 'excellent work' category. Still, I should have been notified when it was used to attack Russian forces."

"We still don't know they were Russian. The helicopters were unmarked and the ground forces were dressed like locals. If they were Russian, the Kazakhstan government should be happy that we defended their sovereign borders."

"Luckily, the threat you uncovered far overshadows things like unauthorized Predator strikes or illegal invasions on Russian soil," he said.

"A simple snowmobile trip to the Kola Peninsula. It's a popular destination this time of the year," Audra said smoothly.

"Most tourists don't return with a severed head in a cooler. I assume they avoided customs?"

"Presumably," she said, smiling.

"When the dust settles, I'm sure we'll…I mean you'll have to answer some questions, along with your partner in crime, Karl Berg. I'm promoting him to the position of assistant deputy director. Effective immediately."

"I didn't know that position existed."

"Everyone complains that we lack the resources to fight the War on Terror. I've just enhanced our capabilities…and when we talk to the White House, I need this to look like a consolidated effort by the National Clandestine Service. "

"He'll be happy to hear that."

"Don't count on it. Karl Berg likes to operate in the shadows. In many ways, he's most effective on the fringes, just out of sight. Give me a few minutes to process all of this and stay close. We could be walking down the hall at any minute," he said.

Chapter 42

6:23 PM

FSB Headquarters, Lubyanka Square

Moscow, Russian Federation

Alexei Kaparov closed the small window on his desktop monitor and tapped another cigarette out of the pack he now kept in plain view on his desk. If the Internal Affairs Division monitored his smoking habit, they would have noticed that he had started smoking three packs a day since the beginning of the weekend. That alone should have alerted them to the fact that he was up to no good.