CHAPTER 77

Somewhere over the Mediterranean Sea

October

THE TOUGHEST PART WAS going to be getting word to the Russians. Ordinarily, the State Department would have been the appropriate channel, but in this case, more urgency was required. Strain had relayed what information he knew to Vic Rodriguez, who was working the phones on his way into the office. After speaking with Janice Motley, it was decided that the best course of action was to have the Moscow station chief reach out to the Federal Protective Service, responsible for President Zubarev’s security. Sources and methods had to be protected, so the communication was simple: the United States government had reason to believe that individuals, possibly Syrian nationals, were targeting the Russian president during an upcoming trip to Odessa, Ukraine. The head of the FSO was polite and appreciative but offered no information in return.

Their apprehension about sharing and their skepticism about a threat were not unfounded. Single-source intelligence, hunches, and assumptions were how one got into trouble. Of course, that ran contrary to the sixth sense that had kept warriors alive in battle since the beginning of time; sometimes you just needed to trust your gut.

The CIA jet was within thirty minutes of landing at Odessa International Airport when the phone rang again. This time it was the Agency doctor who had accompanied the SEALs on the takedown of Yedid’s yacht calling with an update.

“This is Strain. ”

“Freddy, this is Dr. Rob Belanger. I’ve got an update for you. ”

“Give me good news, Doc. ”

“Well, as you know I don’t make the good or bad determination. It’s information and I would rate it reliable. ”

“Understood. What do you have for us? ”

“CIA analyst Oliver Grey went through General Qusim Yedid to hire a sniper team. Their last known location was two weeks ago along the Turkey-Georgia-Armenia border near a town called Gö le. General Yedid identified the sniper team as Tasho al-Shishani, a Georgian, and a Syrian named Nizar Kattan. Langley is doing a workup on them now. They’ll send you photos if they have any, along with anything else they can dig up. ”

“And the target? ”

“He said he didn’t know. Grey wanted to run the operation himself. ”

“How confident are you in what Yedid told you? ”

“Mr. Strain, I didn’t even need to open my case, which is always the best way. He isn’t a radical, ready to die for Allah. Those are my specialty. He is a businessman and has no interest in dying for the cause. I am not at liberty to discuss his deal, but rest assured the Agency will put him to good use as an asset. ”

“Understood. Anything else? ”

“Yes. General Yedid had a female companion with him when he was detained. ”

“You mean a prostitute? ”

“Yes. She told us that there was an American on the yacht a few days ago. Yedid confirmed it was Grey. They dropped him off when they picked her up. ”

“Where was that, Doc? ”

“Odessa. ”

• • •

Freddy pulled an iPad from his pack and selected the icon for LeadNav Systems, a sophisticated imagery program used by special operations forces. He pulled up the area surrounding Gö le and turned the screen so Reece could see it.

“That was Dr. Ron Belanger. He’s a CIA interrogator that XXXX jumped in on the Yedid takedown. He says that Grey hired General Yedid to find him a sniper team and he got him one. And get this, their last known location was just across the Black Sea, right here, ” Freddy said, moving the cursor to a place on the screen. “Notice anything? ”

“Looks pretty rural, ” Reece offered. “Good place to shoot a rifle without attracting too much attention. ”

“I agree. They’re training for something. Look at how close it is to the coast. Let’s say these snipers board a ship somewhere here, ” Freddy said, pointing to the screen, “then cross the Black Sea. They’re in Odessa. ”

Freddy zoomed the image out to show the entire Black Sea and its coastline, with the snipers’ last known location directly opposite the landlocked body of water from the Russian president’s destination.

“Can you pull up port information on that thing? ” Reece asked.

“Nothing too specific. We’ll need Andy’s team for that. It looks like the closest port of any size would be Batumi, just across the border in Georgia. ”

The engines had powered back and the jet was descending rapidly over the Ukrainian countryside. The pilot came over the cabin’s speakers and indicated that they would be on the ground in ten minutes. Both men put on their seat belts and took a few moments to think through the newest information. The puzzle was coming together, but Reece still felt like they were missing a big piece.

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