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“Hold on a second,” said Driehaus, as he suddenly noticed Alexandra standing next to Harvath in the doorway. “Who the hell cleared them to be in here?”
“I did,” replied FBI Director Sorce, who instructed the two newcomers to take a seat.
“She’s a Russian SVR agent, for Christ’s sake!”
“Who has given us one of our biggest breaks in this case.”
Driehaus was incensed. “What if she’s a plant? What if everything she’s given us is disinformation? I want to go on record that I object to her being here and believe that her presence at this meeting puts our national security in serious jeopardy.”
“Duly noted,” replied Sorce.
“What for?” rebutted Driehaus. “She’s already decoded and provided us with the list of sleepers and their locations before she and Agent Harvath even landed in DC.”
“True,” replied Sorce, “but we still do not have themeans by which to contact them and therefore we believe she may still be useful. There’s no telling how much of a head start Draegar already has on us in activating them.”
“What about the sleepers here in DC?” asked Harvath, anxious to avoid a protracted pissing match between Sorce and Driehaus. “What have you been able to find out about them?”
The FBI director took a deep breath before responding. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to agree with Secretary Driehaus at this point. We’re going to need to talk about those two privately.” Looking at Alexandra he said, “We have a team here in the main operations area coordinating the pickups of the sleeper agents across the country. As we pop them, our field agents will be feeding back live video of their interrogations and the searches of their cars, residences, and so on. On each field team is an agent who can speak Russian, just in case Draegar tries to make contact. That being said, you’ve been a very big help to us so far, and if we can impress upon you to assist us further we could really use your help down on the floor.”
Alexandra agreed, and Sorce had one of his assistants show her to the area the sleeper pickup teams were being managed from. Once she was out of the conference room and the door had closed behind her, The FBI director looked at Harvath and said, “Out of the names you gave us, one is dead and one is missing.”
“Who are they?” asked Harvath.
“The dead guy owned a very successful antique store on Wisconsin Avenue in upper Georgetown. His client list reads like a who’s who of Washington insiders. No priors, never bothered his neighbors, regular churchgoer, no outstanding debts, you know the profile.”
“Was he Russian by birth or did someone turn them here?”
“That’s something we’re still working on.”
As Sorce handed him the file, Harvath looked it over and said, “Draegar’s cleaning house. Why?”
“The Russians are tying up their loose ends,” offered Driehaus.
“My guess is that the antiques guy changed his mind,” said Sorce. “That’s always the risk you run with a long-term sleeper. When it came to the point that he was actually called into action, he didn’t want to do it. His ideology had changed. He liked what he had going on here and didn’t want to give it up, so Draegar broke into his apartment and killed him.”
“Where did he live?” asked Harvath as he continued to scan the file.
“In some apartment building near Dupont Circle.”
“What about the other guy?”
“That’s the one that really stings,” said the FBI director as he handed over the other file. “His name is David Patrick. He’s an aide to the National Security Council’s deputy executive secretary. Apparently, he went to Moscow on a goddamn Fulbright Scholarship.”
“Our American tax dollars at work,” replied Harvath.
“His job at the NSC put him in a perfect position to slip that ransom note into the president’s briefing papers.”
Harvath closed the file and slid it back over to the FBI director, “So where’s our man now?”
“At this point, it’s anybody’s guess. We’ve cast a very intense net for him. If he’s out there, we’ll get him.”
“I assume you’ve got a team at Patrick’s apartment,” said Harvath, “just in case he comes back.”
“We do. I reassigned the guys I had on Gary’s place. Why? Are you thinking about going over there?”
“I’d like Agent Ivanova to see it, and the antique dealer’s home and office as well. She’s got good instincts and might pick up on something we missed.”
“Now that she’s in the building,” interrupted the homeland security secretary, “I don’t know if I like the idea of her leaving it.”
Sorce had no choice but to agree, it was too dangerous.
Harvath, though, disagreed. “I know the idea of an SVR agent ru
“And if she tries to rabbit?” asked Sorce, playing Devil’s advocate.
“She won’t.”
“But if she does?” prodded Driehaus.
“Then I’ll put a bullet in her,” replied Harvath. “As sure as I’m sitting here, if Agent Alexandra Ivanova tries to run, I give you my word that I’ll kill her myself.”
Chapter 52
They ended up spending half of the day in the SIOC. With Alexandra’s knowledge of Helmut Draegar, Russian Intelligence, and the events that had transpired, she was suddenly deemed an asset too valuable to let go. As Harvath watched, she fielded question after question and gave her opinion to the agents taking down sleepers on everything from interrogation tactics to potential hiding spots for Russian nukes. Soon, no one made a move without consulting her first. Though the shift in operational control unsettled some of the FBI’s higher-ups, one look at what Alexandra was doing was enough to convince them that the trust their agents were putting in her was well founded. Her advice was solid.
The good news was that the pickup teams had gotten to the sleepers before Draegar did. The bad news was that they were proving extremely resolute. Across the country, once captured, they gave up little to no information whatsoever.
Finally, Harvath had seen enough. His country needed him. If Alexandra Ivanova wanted to continue to play oracle at Delphi, that was fine with him, but he needed to check out their other leads. Standing around doing nothing was more than he could stand.
It took Harvath another hour to track down the FBI’s director, but once he did, the man pledged to him any support he needed.
The first thing Harvath needed was a helicopter that could get in and out of tight spaces-one that could land on a building without a helipad or in the middle of a narrow DC side street, and the HRT Bell 412 sitting on the roof of FBI Headquarters just didn’t fit the bill. What’s more, HRT’s other birds were already in use. It only took one call to Andrews Air Force Base to track down an MH-6 Little Bird and a Nightstalker pilot from the Army’s 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment who was ready to see some action.
Harvath also needed a support team he could trust, and Rick Morrell and Company, still in the building on reserve, were more than happy to help him out. A quartermaster and armorer from Quantico were sent up to see to all the team’s needs. The team was outfitted in black, fire-retardant Nomex fatigues, HellStorm tactical assault gloves, and First Choice body armor. Included with the cache laid out by the armorer, were several newly arrived futuristic.40-caliber Beretta CX4 Storm carbines, as well as Model 96 Beretta Vertec pistols, also in.40 caliber. There was something about being able to interchange their magazines that Harvath found very comforting.
A Picati