Battlefield Russia

Russian Underground

The cool October air blew in through the window in the kitchen. It was a welcomed sign after an unusually long and hot summer. Looking at the morning paper, Alexei Kasyanov could not fully determine if the news reports were truly accurate about the most recent Russian offensive, or if this was just more spin by a government that was slowly crumbling from within.

Finally, he decided, “The Petrov regime is in its death throes. It just doesn’t know it yet.”

Putting the newspaper aside, Alexei poured himself another cup of tea, adding just one sugar cube. He then pulled out his notebook and began to read over his notes from his recent meeting with a Russian FSB major. Alexei had spent the better part of two months trying to arrange a meeting where he and the major could speak and not worry about being detected, which was hard to do in Moscow these days. While it was incredibly risky meeting someone from within the FSB, Alexei had felt it was time to start making new friends in high places that would be pivotal to him removing Petrov from office, preferably without bloodshed.

His CIA and German BND minders had obviously cautioned him against meeting with anyone from the FSB, lest they betray him to the authorities. To his credit, Alexei had managed to convince the men in charge of the Moscow garrison, two Russian colonels and a major general, that when the time came, they should side with him. Of course, he had promised them high positions of authority in the new government once the coup had been completed.

Unfortunately, the information the FSB man had provided the night before was most troubling. It required an emergency meeting with his American and German handlers. A soft rap on the door frame let Alexei know his first handler had arrived. Seeing the familiar face, he waved his friend in. Alexei wouldn’t say that he and Mitch Lowe had become friends, but dodging death squads and spies across Moscow and the surrounding area had a way of strengthening the bond between people, much like what soldiers experienced in combat. The two of them had developed a deep and smooth-working relationship. Mitch was his contact with the outside world, and the intelligence shared with each other was bringing the removal of Petrov closer with each day.

Smiling as he walked in, Mitch helped himself to a cup of tea from the kettle on the stove and then took a seat opposite Alexei. “You said you had something important to talk about?” he inquired.

“Remember that FSB major I told you I was going to meet with last night?” asked Alexei.

“Yeah, I remember him,” Mitch answered. His face suddenly looked concerned. “The Germans were providing security for your meeting,” he stated. “Did everything go according to plan?”

Waving his hand as if warding off Mitch’s concern, Alexei replied, “No, there was no problem. The Germans are exceptional security guards. I know you don’t fully trust them, but they are very competent. Anyway, at the meeting, the FSB agent told me he had critical information about the British prime minister, but he would only share it if he could be guaranteed certain things.”

Mitch leaned forward. His interest had obviously been piqued. “What does he want? And what does he have to offer?” he asked.

Alexei smiled. “A secret recording between the British PM and the head of the FSB in Britain,” he responded.

A short pause ensued as Mitch tried to wrap his head around what Alexei had just told him. “Interesting,” he finally replied. “You know that would have to be vetted to make sure it was true. What does the recording supposedly say, and what does he want in exchange for it?” he pressed.

“He wants $5 million USD and asylum in America,” Alexei answered. He was nervous to state these terms. In all reality, he wasn’t sure if this was sincere or just a ruse by the FSB to draw him out, and maybe expose those who were helping him stay on the lam.

Mitch let out a soft whistle as he leaned back in his chair. He stared at Alexei for a few minutes, assessing him. “Alexei, what does your gut say about this guy? Is he legit? Do you believe him?” he asked.

Now it was Alexei who sat back in his chair. He looked at his teacup and reached down to take a sip, more to stall his response than anything else. He played through every moment of the previous night’s conversation and analyzed every facial tell he had observed. “I think the major was scared,” Alexei finally answered. “I believe he’s looking for a way out but doesn’t have a clue about how he can get out without getting killed or giving away his intentions.”

Mitch nodded. “Fair enough. I need to hear the recording before I can possibly agree to his terms, though. I need to at least know he’s not BS-ing us. Is it possible for us to hear the recording?” he asked.

Alexei dug around in the pocket of his trousers for a second before he produced a micro SD card. “The major said he put a sixty-second segment of the recording on this. He told me the rest of the forty-five-minute discussion will be made available once we agree to smuggle him out of Russia and he has his five million dollars.” He pushed the SD card toward Mitch.

Mitch examined the card closely. Alexei knew he was probably wondering if it was even safe to place the card in one of his devices. He eventually pulled out a small pocket audio recorder, which was probably deemed to be of low enough value, and then he opened a small dust cover on the side of the device. Once the card was in, Mitch turned the recorder on and hit the playback button.

It was the first time Alexei was hearing the recording, too. He had been too afraid to risk one of his own electronic devices. Sure enough, the voice on the recording did sound like Prime Minister Chattem. The other voice was unknown. As they continued to listen, Mitch’s eyes grew wide as saucers. The questions that were being asked and the agreements that Chattem had made put him in a very untenable position.

“If this ever came to light, it would topple Chattem’s position as prime minister,” thought Alexei.

Once they had turned the recorder off, Mitch looked at Alexei with a fire in his eyes. “Tell your FSB major that I need to run this by my headquarters, but he should plan on packing a bag and being ready to move when I say.”

“So, you think this is real?” Alexei asked.

“I think it needs to be further analyzed before that assessment can be completely made. I don’t have the equipment or personnel to do that here. I’ll get this electronically sent to Langley, and I’m sure we’ll know something shortly,” Mitch replied.

With that, their meeting ended. Mitch left to head to his own safe house and get the content of this SD card encrypted and sent back to the States for analysis.

Twenty-four hours after sending the file back to Langley, Mitch received a short message: “We will pay the five million for the rest of the recording, and we will work to smuggle the Russian agent out of the country.”

Based on the quick turnaround of the intelligence analysis and decisions that required a certain level in the chain of command, Mitch understood that not only was this deal a go, but they wanted it done as quickly as possible.