Part 16 (1/2)

”Doc! We're in an aircraft. You know--no windows to open!”

It finally dawned on the young corpsman. ”Oh s.h.i.+t!”

”We'd prefer you didn't, Doc!” James said standing two rows away.

When the laughter died down, Grant called everyone. ”Gather 'round, guys. Let's talk about what we've got ahead of us. Speak up if you've got any feedback. Matt, you listening?”

”Affirmative!”

Any plans the Team made all hinged on the Russians still being at Shannon Airport. If they already departed for Moscow, that would mean a whole different ballgame. Time wasn't in their favor.

But there was one other possibility--the last option. It would mean NSA having on its best ”ears.” If they could find out the specific location those weapons were going, then A.T. might have the time to get into Russia undetected. But retrieving the weapons would be out of the question. They'd have to be destroyed. President Carr had given ”his blessings” to make it happen.

Preparing for their mission, they reviewed call signs, hand signals. Weapons were ready. They discussed the airport, location of buildings, color of fuel trucks, distance from the terminal to private aircraft area, anything and everything that would give them a heads-up.

Grant sat back, and stretched his arms overhead. ”You guys try and get some rest.” No one protested. He leaned over the armrest. ”Matt! You awake?!” No answer. ”Matt?!” Grant bolted from his seat and went to the c.o.c.kpit, seeing Garrett greeting him with a wide smile.

”s.h.i.+t! I won't make that mistake again.” He went back to the cabin.

Adler changed seats. ”Well, what are you gonna do when you finally see him?”

”Kalinin?” Adler nodded. ”He's just another 'a.s.set,' Joe. Part of another op.”

”You still haven't remembered where you saw him?”

Grant rested his elbows on his knees, squeezing one fist then the other. ”No.”

Since the first time they all saw Kalinin's picture, Adler wondered if he should even broach the subject. But knowing Grant the way he did, Grant had already thought about it.

He leaned closer. ”Can I talk to you about something?”

”Sure.”

”Let's go aft.”

They walked to the rear of the plane, where engine noise was a little louder, helping to drown out some of their conversation.

Sitting opposite one another, Adler leaned forward. ”Look, I'll find it hard to believe if you tell me you haven't thought that your. . .”

Grant tried keeping his voice low. ”What, Joe? That maybe my dad had a fling? That he cheated on my mom? That that guy could be my half-brother?!”

”That's what's been bugging you, not that you couldn't remember where you saw him.” Grant lowered his head, staring at his balled up fists. Adler waited briefly, then said, ”You knew your dad, the kind of man he was, the relations.h.i.+p the two of you had. And you know how much he loved your mom and you . . and being a corpsman. Come on! Do you really believe that could've happened?!”

Grant raised his head, locking his eyes onto Adler's. ”You said it yourself, Joe. We look like brothers.”

”And just where the h.e.l.l do you think that, uh, liaison could've happened? Was he in Europe during the war?”

”Right after.”

”Oh. Well, I still say bulls.h.i.+t. Look, for as long as we've known each other, you've been the one who could process information until you reached a reasonable explanation. You're just hung up on the guy looking like you.” He poked an index finger against Grant's forehead. ”Get that brain working.”

Grant flopped back against the seat, knowing Adler was right. Before he could give any response, his friend added, ”Hey, you know it's said each of us has a twin somewhere in the world. You just happened to find yours. Too d.a.m.n bad he's a G.o.dd.a.m.n communist!”

Grant finally laughed. ”Guess you haven't found yours. I'm positive you would've spread the word by now.”

”Uh-uh. Mine's still in hiding.”

”C'mon,” Grant said, giving Adler's knee a light b.u.mp with his fist. ”I'll treat you to a cup of java, then we'll go keep Matt company.”

Russian Emba.s.sy 0915 Hours Zelesky knocked on the door, but didn't wait for Vazov to respond. He opened it, then slammed it behind him. His jacket flapped open as he took hurried steps toward the amba.s.sador's desk. He dropped two envelopes on the blotter.

”Two envelopes?” Vazov asked, puzzled.

”One is yours, with the note offering to meet him. The second was already at the drop site, so there was no need to leave yours.”

Vazov turned the envelope over, seeing it had already been opened. ”Should I even look, Misha, or perhaps you would care to tell me what is inside.”

Zelesky didn't respond.

Vazov removed a single sheet of paper. Only three brief sentences had been written: ”I've accomplished what I set out to do. I will expect you to leave fifteen thousand American dollars at this drop site by midnight tomorrow. Don't expect further contact.” Signed, ”Primex.”

Vazov angrily crumbled the paper, then threw it toward Zelesky. ”You had a chance to follow him that day at the train station! You and Petya should have done more to find him!”

”And what would have been the point?! He gave us something of great importance! Those weapons will be in Moscow before the day is through.” Zelesky took a step closer to the desk. ”It is over. It is worth the money. Do you have that much on hand?”

Vazov merely nodded. ”You will make the drop.”

”Are you going to contact Moscow, or should I?”

”It is best if I make the call.” Zelesky left. Vazov lifted the phone receiver, then he hesitated. He put the receiver back in its cradle, then he went to the window. The sky was perfectly blue, making him think of Nicolai Kalinin on an aircraft headed to his homeland. He remembered the conversation the two of them had the evening they met.

Rocking back on his heels, he wondered if his own return to Russia might be sooner than expected.

Chapter 15.

Shannon Airport 2100 Hours - Local Time Shannon Airport was located approximately forty miles east of Ireland's west coast and the North Atlantic. Situated along the River Shannon, the small airport had one asphalt runway, 10,500 feet long. Even though it had become the first transatlantic gateway between Ireland and the U.S., very rarely were planes waiting to takeoff or land.

Sunset had been at nineteen thirty hours. Ground temperature was hovering around forty-two degrees and dropping. Winds remained constant at twenty knots.

Grant switched on landing lights, and lowered cabin lights, before he lowered the landing gear. Garrett communicated with the control tower, then he adjusted the plane's heading, speed, and alt.i.tude.

Team A.T. looked out windows, trying to get a glimpse of their destination. Adler called out, ”Get your gla.s.ses! Be ready to look for that plane!”

Terminal, control tower, parking lots, and hangars were all on the starboard side of the runway. If the Russian jet already landed, it'd be parked away from the terminal.