Part 10 (1/2)
”It is 6289 Aless Court in Alexandria. I have been there. I installed the scrambler and shortwave.”
”Good. Then you are very familiar with it. Now, I a.s.sume you realize the importance of my request?” Vikulin merely nodded. Grant took a deep breath. Under any other circ.u.mstances KGB Vikulin would never let anyone get away with this line of questioning and in this tone of voice. ”My reason for meeting you tonight is evidence has revealed a possible traitor within the emba.s.sy.”
Vikulin stopped short, unbelieving. ”This cannot be true. I would surely know!”
”Not necessarily, Comrade. That is why I have been brought in by the FCD. I might add that you had also been under surveillance for. . .”
”No! I am loyal to the Soviet Union!”
”Yes, I realize you are. That is why you are here tonight.” As they walked past the Ford, Grant noticed Stalley had ducked out of view.
”Can you tell me what evidence you have or who the traitor is?” Vikulin was still overwhelmed by the news because as a KGB officer, he should have known.
”No. The investigation is ongoing at this time. Everyone is under suspicion. I need your help.”
”Can you at least tell me what this person is being accused of?”
Headlights from an approaching vehicle made Grant step farther away from the street, trying to keep himself in the shadows. Once the car turned at the next street, he continued. ”I a.s.sume you know about the American who has supplied us information.”
”Yes. The man who calls himself 'Primex.'”
”That is correct,” Grant answered, but his brain was saying, Holy s.h.i.+t!
”But I am sure I don't know any more about him than you.”
”Have you personally seen or talked with him?”
”I have not, but Comrade Zelesky met him very briefly when information was handed over.”
”Describe him.” Vikulin gave Grant a description that Zelesky had relayed to the amba.s.sador. It wasn't much help. The guy sounded pretty average looking. ”It is believed our Russian comrade is making his own deal with this 'Primex.'”
Grant was a couple of paces ahead, when he turned to see the Russian standing stone still, finally getting the words out, ”I cannot, I will not believe this!”
Grant maintained his distance, as he slowly reached behind his back. ”Perhaps it will help you believe when I tell you I have full authority to send you back to Moscow, tonight if necessary, because you now have knowledge about the investigation.”
Vikulin's broad shoulders went slack. ”You have my word, I will not reveal what you have told me. What can I do to a.s.sist?”
Grant brought his hand from around his back, motioning to Vikulin to continue walking. Grant spoke with authority. ”Do your job. Keep your eyes open, listen for anything out of the ordinary. I still have a difficult task ahead.”
”You mean with your mission? The weapons?”
Grant merely nodded. ”I have had difficulty communicating with my contact.”
”Yes. I understand. Amba.s.sador Vazov often has problems contacting Major Zubarev. Kabul has seen increased rebel activity lately.”
Grant couldn't believe Vikulin was giving up information so easily, so unknowingly. Maybe it was time to end this meeting. He couldn't push his luck. ”I think we have discussed enough, Comrade.”
Vikulin stepped near a Mercedes, digging his keys from his pocket. ”Where or how should I contact you if I find anything of significance?”
”Use one of the drop sites, whichever is convenient for you.”
Vikulin thought briefly. ”That will be the garage off L Street. It is close enough to the emba.s.sy and busy enough to avoid attracting attention.”
Grant quickly rethought that. ”That may not be good, in case someone else from the emba.s.sy checks. I will find a way to contact you in a couple of days. As a reminder, just be sure to go about your daily routine normally. That is most important.”
Grant backed farther away from the car, indicating to Vikulin the meeting had ended.
As soon as the Mercedes was out of sight, Grant let out a long, relieved breath. He turned off the recorder, then hustled to the Ford. Withdrawing the .45 from his waistband, he stretched out in the back seat, staying out of sight as a precaution.
Adler, who'd been across the street in an alley watching the whole scene, ensured the area was clear, then hurried to the car, getting into the front pa.s.senger seat. He rested an arm on the backrest and turned slightly. ”Well? Any luck?”
Grant unhooked the recorder from his belt. ”For KGB, he sure was a chatty b.a.s.t.a.r.d!”
”Lucky for us!” Adler said.
”Grigori probably would've shot him on the spot!”
Stalley checked for cars and pedestrians in the mirrors. ”Think we're in the clear, boss. Wanna head for Eagle 8?”
”Go,” Grant answered. He sat up and scooted near the edge of the seat. He started playing the tape, then laid the recorder on the center console in order for Adler and Stalley to listen.
When it finished, Adler said, ”So, now we know half the weapons are going to Moscow. And I'll bet you're still thinking about the cargo s.h.i.+p.”
”Affirmative, Joe. Hope Scott gets some news from NSA.”
Adler asked, ”Does the name 'Kalinin' ring any bells?”
Grant flopped back against the seat. ”Complete blank. Dial Grigori's number for me, Joe.” Adler complied then handed the phone to Grant.
”Hey, Grigori!”
Moshenko blew out a stream of cigar smoke. ”Yes, my friend!”
”Listen, I had a meeting with 'Comrade Vikulin.'”
Moshenko couldn't stifle a laugh. ”And did he cooperate?”
”More than he realized. Just like I'd hoped, he thought I was the guy in the photo and called me 'Comrade Kalinin.' Sound familiar?”
”'Kalinin,'” Moshenko repeated. He laid his cigar on the edge of the sink then reached for a bottle of Stolichnaya Vodka and poured a shot gla.s.s full.
”Think about it, Grigori, then call me at the house. Oh, I got an address for the safe house, so let your mind relax on that one.”
Moshenko downed the vodka. ”Very good news, Grant! I a.s.sume you will be making a visit soon?”
”Thinking about it.”
”Be careful, my friend.”