Black Ghosts

CHAPTER 26

Sergei Pozharsky flicked ash from his cigar into the huge marble ashtray on his desk. “I see,” he said, “not a movie, but an armed insurrection. This is most interesting.”

Edward sat opposite him. The cloth bag had been removed from his head, but his hands were still cuffed. Next to him sat a large man wearing combat fatigues and carrying a submachine gun. For half an hour Edward had been trying to make Sergei see reason. Without much success, to judge by the cold look on the man’s face and the skepticism in his eyes.

“Don’t you see?” Edward began again. “If this succeeds, Russia will be worse off than it was before Glasnost and Perestroika. You and your kind will be the first to go. I’m telling you, I’m your best bet, and as you can see it’s a goddamn long shot.”

Sergei just stared at him, slowly drawing from his large Havana cigar. Then he placed the Coheiba Numero Uno in the ashtray and got up to walk around the room. “You are telling me that you are here to stop a military coup. I like that. You also tell me that you have just about everything in place. I like that too. But I need to see where I fit into all this, and especially how I’m going to profit from it.”

“You will get to keep what you have,” Edward blurted.

Sergei raised his hand as if to say, I’m not through. “That is what you are telling me. Two of my people who trusted you are now dead.” He turned to face Edward. “Not a very good track record, is it?”

“So what is it you want?” Edward decided to cut to the chase. Time was running out, and if he was going to get out of that place and make it to the airstrip on time he had to get moving. “Is it money? Fine, that can be arranged. Just name your price, but get these stinking cuffs off me and let’s get moving. Don’t forget, you already owe me quite a bit, the way things are.”

“How do you figure that?” The man sounded surprised.

“You got my money from Igor and Alexi. You are supposed to deliver on that. Is this charade your way of trying to get out of the deal?”

He seemed to have finally struck at Sergei’s heart, where it mattered. This was a negotiation session like any other. Negotiating was the only thing Sergei knew how to do, and he did it well.

At that moment a second armed man walked into the room. He went up to Sergei and leaned over to whisper something in his ear. Sergei listened and nodded. He then gave a signal to the man standing guard over Edward. The man unlocked the handcuffs.

“Let me apologize,” said Sergei, “for the rather rough treatment you were given by my men. We had to be sure, not only that you were not being followed, but also that you were indeed who you said you were and that your intentions are, shall we say, consistent with our own.”

“And are you sure now?” said Edward.

“We are. Some of the things you mentioned have been confirmed. It seems these people you call the Black Ghosts are very upset with you.”

“Really?”

“When I informed them I had you, they were ecstatic.”

“You did what?”

“This is business, my friend, nothing personal, you understand,”

“So what now?”

“I negotiate.”

“I have nothing more to offer you, Sergei, except your own life.”

“We should do business one day,” Sergei smiled. “You have an honest face. That is good. Now we have to teach you to lie and keep the same face.” He chuckled, enjoying himself. “I tell these Black Ghosts I want more money for you. That way we buy time, they will think I’m bluffing and still search for you, but not as hard. They want to catch you very much, which in my book makes you a friend.”

Edward massaged his wrists and stood up. The armed guard raised his gun and stood in a ready position. Sergei signaled him to relax. “I’d love to sit and chat,” Edward said, “but we have things to do.”

“All right, I am no fan of those who occupy the Kremlin at present, but at least they don’t interfere in business. We will do all we can to help you.”

“Good,” said Edward. “I need to use your phone. And where is my friend?”

Sergei stood up and pushed the phone across the wide desk to where Edward stood. “He’s fine, don’t worry. He is well taken care of.”

Edward took Sergei’s word for it, for the moment. While he dialed, Sergei paced the carpeted floors of his office suite. Outside, beyond the glass doors, high-heeled secretaries and well-dressed clerks in imported suits milled and circulated, had meetings, did deals, and took notes, despite the lateness of the hour. In this building, business was extremely good.

The headquarters of the Pozharsky Corporation was like any well-heeled office building in the West, except for the large number of uniformed guards who lounged around the lobby downstairs, their Kalashnikovs hanging from their shoulders. Another unusual feature of Sergei’s office was the second entrance, private and also heavily guarded, via which Edward and Sparky, handcuffed and blindfolded, had been brought in half an hour earlier.

The first person Edward called was Larry, at the office building in New York.

“Thank God it’s you,” Larry said. “I’ve just spoken to Natalie. She’s worried as hell. Where are you?”

“When did she call?”

“Less than ten minutes ago. Why?”

“Her name isn’t Natalie. I believe the real Natalie is dead. The woman you have been calling Natalie was working for the Black Ghosts all along. No wonder you kept losing every agent you tried to get in Russia.”

Larry was silent, trying to digest what he had just heard. “Are you sure?”

“I’m lucky to be alive. What did you tell her?”

“I told her about the airport switch.”

“Don’t worry, she knew about that from me anyway. Did you tell her the location of the airstrip?”

“No. She asked. She said she wants to go there and team up with you. She said you were separated when the safe house was raided. She wasn’t sure if you’d made it.”

“So how come you didn’t give it to her?”

“I don’t have it here. I have one copy at the house and the other I gave to the pilot. Just lucky, I guess. What about your friend the colonel?”

“They got his driver, but I’m hoping he’s still out there. He has your number. If he calls you, send him to the airstrip.” Edward gave him the directions. This time he was reading it from a map Sergei had placed before him.

Larry gave him the radio frequency to Air Force One that he had gotten from Fenton. “Shit, I just remembered something,” he said. “I also gave the frequency to Natalie.”

“So get ahold of your friend Fenton and warn him. Tell him that when I call in, I’ll identify myself as Dagger One. He is to disregard any other calls on that frequency.”

“I hope I can reach him. He might already be on his way. How come I didn’t notice a goddamn thing?”

“Forget it, Larry. She was good, very good. You just try and get your man. I have to run now. Stay where you are. I’ll be in touch.”

Next, Edward tried Sokolov’s apartment. There was no answer. That in itself was probably a good sign: It could mean Sokolov had received Edward’s message and was on his way to the airfield. On the other hand, it could mean he was dead or in the midst of spilling his guts, giving them the location of the field. Edward had to admit the possibility that his men were heading directly into a trap.

When he had finished phoning, Edward went over to where Sergei was standing by the window, which offered a panoramic view of Moscow. As he gazed at the multitude of lights twinkling in the darkness, Sergei’s expression was sorrowful.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said morosely. “It would be a shame to turn it back into a prison.”

“Yes, indeed.” Edward cleared his throat. “Listen, Sergei, I’m going to need a powerful radio transmitter.”

Sergei stared at him blankly, a remote look in his eyes. Then he seemed to come to his senses. “Yes, of course. That can be arranged.”

“Is there a transmitter at the airfield?” If there were, it would be too good to be true.

Sergei shook his head. “I’m afraid not. But I can get you access to the Brosny radio station. They have the largest transmitter in the country and it’s not in use at the moment.”

“We’ll have to get Sparky over there.”

“No problem.”

“How will I be able to communicate with him?”

“By phone from the airfield.”

Sparky had been hit over the head, not hard enough to knock him out, but enough to keep him quiet in the car. He had been released from his cuffs and allowed to stand up and stretch. Soon he was drinking tea and being made a fuss of by two of the secretaries, who applied a dressing to the bump on his head and soothed him with laughter and soft words that he could not understand but enjoyed listening to anyway.

Edward went into the reception area, where Sparky was still enjoying the company of the two pretty secretaries.

“I hate to drag you away,” said Edward, “but we have work to do.”

He literally had to pull him by the arm to get him into the office. It seemed to Edward that he had done nothing but drag Sparky by the arm all day long.

Sergei had one of the secretaries go out for some food. She came back a short while later with burgers, fries, and coffee from the newly reopened McDonald’s.

Edward put Sparky through a thorough briefing. He provided him with an outline of the overall plan and gave him the radio frequency that would put him in touch with Air Force One. After Sergei had made the necessary arrangements, Sparky, still looking slightly lost, was led away by one of the uniformed guards. Edward could only hope that he knew what he had to do and would get it right when the time came.

Sergei put at Edward’s disposal a Jeep Cherokee and a couple of men who would drive him to the airfield. He also provided some useful intelligence. The recent troop movements around the city meant that most of the major highways were now controlled by checkpoints. His men would try to guide Edward away from the most likely locations for roadblocks, but even on the back roads there was no guarantee they wouldn’t be stopped and searched. For that reason, the men would be in plain clothes. Edward was advised to carry no arms. Sergei had received information that the police were looking for Edward as a fugitive from justice. It was being said that he was behind one of the recent terrorist acts and was armed and dangerous.

“They have a photo of you.” Sergei showed him a photocopy of an enlarged photograph with a Russian inscription underneath.

“My own personal wanted poster,” Edward said bitterly, recognizing the photo as the one in his passport which was missing from the hotel. “So what now?”

“Nothing. Just avoid talking to the police. And get out of the city as soon as possible.”

Once they arrived at the airfield, a man named Yuri would assist them. Sergei had briefed Yuri by phone and impressed upon him the importance of giving the American every cooperation. He also gave Edward a number and told him to call anytime if there was something Sergei’s people could do for him. They shook hands and Edward left.

It was around nine and raining when they got on the road. Traffic was heavy until they cleared the Sadovoye Koltso, the city’s Garden Ring, when it began to thin out. Edward vigilantly watched the road from the back seat. It was going to be a long night.