They Disappeared

64

Battery Park, New York City

As the president of Russia stepped to the podium, security agent Nikolai Vlasik adjusted his earpiece while standing watch near the dignitaries’ platform in Battery Park near the World Trade Center.

Vlasik was counting the hours until he was back in Moscow and finished dealing with Sergei Serov, the arrogant prick.

Vlasik headed the Russian Presidential Security Service team protecting the Russian delegation during its official visit to the United States. Serov was the intelligence boss whose anti-American posturing was a throwback to the Cold War. It blinded him to the point of making him a liability.

“The Americans have just issued a threat alert,” Vlasik said into his radio. “We should cut this event short.”

“No. Don’t be concerned,” Serov responded. “Things are in control.”

Serov outranked him, had powerful friends and was untouchable.

Vlasik gritted his teeth and shook his head slightly to his American counterpart, Hank Young, a senior agent with the U.S. Secret Service, standing post at the far end of the platform.

Vlasik’s gesture signaled that he’d been overruled by Serov.

Young acknowledged Vlasik. Then the American’s chiseled face tightened as he received more information from another U.S. agent.

For his part, Vlasik used his anger to concentrate on his job. From behind his dark glasses he scanned the faces of the crowd of several thousand that had gathered for the ceremony.

The Russian government was presenting a gift to New York City, the sculpture of a rising angel by an artist from Mykrekistan. The president of Mykrekistan, New York’s mayor, New York’s governor and several local officials were participating in the unveiling of the memorial artwork dedicated to the “triumph over terrorism.”

In scrutinizing the crowd, Vlasik looked at faces and hands for telltale signs of anything sinister-for someone who was not smiling, or was “off,” or someone fidgety, or who was reaching for something. The chance that an explosive or weapon was overlooked during the security check was real, despite the heavy emergency presence of patrol cars, fire trucks and ambulances.

Helicopters passed overhead and the thud gave way to the screams of protestors who the NYPD had contained to one side behind interlocking metal barricades. When the Russian president reached the podium there was the sudden blossom of signs denouncing Russia, alleging human rights abuses, atrocities against those struggling for an independent Mykrekistan.

Sensing a potential eruption, the cameras and news crews turned their attention to the protestors. Such demonstrations were common whenever the Russian president visited other countries. But today Vlasik’s unease had been deepened by the increasingly disturbing U.S. intelligence on threats. His preference was to heed the U.S. Secret Service, cut this event short and go to the backup plan, which was to move the presidential delegation to Bryant Park where, in a short time, the Russian first lady and the Mykrekistan president’s wife would take part in the presentation of literary works to the New York Public Library.

Hank Young approached Vlasik and spoke directly into his ear.

“The threat is credible, Nick. Prepare to pull your guys out of here, fast.”

“I’ll inform Serov.”

Vlasik went to the intelligence chief and relayed the latest update from the Secret Service.

“Tell him we are aware of the threat and not concerned,” Serov sneered. He’d been in contact with top Russian agents with military and foreign intelligence. “Nikolai, we’ve already removed this threat right here in New York, right under the noses of our American friends. They’re just catching up with us.”

Vlasik returned to Young and informed him.

“Your boss could soon be overruled,” Young said. “We expect an update any second now.”

Above them, on the platform, the president began speaking, triggering an instant reaction from the protestors who yelled and howled in an attempt to drown out his words.

“The great city of New York and the great people of America have prevailed…” the president began.

A loud metal clanking rose as the protestors began rattling the barricades and blowing whistles.

“You’re a murderer!” a woman shouted. “A war criminal!”