Fury From Within

Chapter Sixteen

General Poszk relaxed in the plush surroundings of his Ministry office. He sat re-reading the interrogation proceedings for Sirna. If the rest of the Chechnya rebel leadership is made of the same material as this man, God help us.

A soft knock at his office door caused him to close the file, placing it in his desk drawer.

Looking up, he saw his secretary, a matronly woman of 70. “General, you have a Captain Igor Isinov to see you,” she said.

“Show him in please,” he responded. The general stood up from behind his desk and walked over to a table filled with various liquors from his worldly travels. Standing before his table, he focused in on a bottle of Jim Beam, an American Bourbon he had picked up a taste for while working as a Military Attaché at the Russian Embassy in Washington DC. General Poszk contemplated ordering something to eat from his secretary, but thought better of it. The torture session he had witnessed earlier upset his stomach. He needed a good stiff drink. The drink would also settle his nerves since reading the red presidential folder on his desk, a gift from one of his intelligence friends in the FSB.

Captain Isinov stepped into the general’s office in his dress uniform, proudly displaying his ribbons or “fruit salad” on his chest. The rows of ribbons attested to his many combat actions in Afghanistan, Angola, Chechnya and advisor ships in Syria, Libya, and Vietnam.

“Captain Isinov reporting as ordered sir,” he said, executing a crisp salute.

The general held up a bottle of Jim Beam in return salute. “Relax captain, we can be informal here. What can I get for you? Swedish vodka? Canadian whiskey? You pick your poison as the Americans say and I will find it for you.” He extended his open hand over the motley collection of bottles he had amassed as gifts in his travels.

“Nothing for me sir, I still on duty,” Captain Isinov replied, still standing at attention with his body ramrod straight.

General Poszk shook his head in response. “Captain, at ease! That is an order! If you keep up these military shenanigans, I will court martial you right here. Now relax, you have a long journey in front of you. Under the current situation, I think a stiff belt would ease your burdens.” He picked up a Czechoslovakian crystal tumbler and filled it halfway with his own personal choice of Jim Beam, dropping in two ice cubes. “I have made the selection for you captain. I know how you prefer a good French wine when you can get a hold of it, but this will have to do for now. For the moment, please sit down and try some of this outstanding American bourbon while we discuss your mission.”

Captain Isinov relaxed, thanking the general for his generosity. Such a drink would cost him a day’s wages if he ordered it in a bar.

The general picked up the folder with a red presidential seal across its front, the word “Secret” stamped at its top. “It will only take you a few minutes, read this document and tell me what you think.”

“But general, I am not cleared to this level.”

General Poszk leaned over his desk in encouragement and slid the now open folder in front of the captain. “There, it is open captain. You have my permission to read the document. Jesus Christ, Igor, we have been friends for a long time now. I would not allow harm to come to you. You have my word on it.”

Not wanting to offend the general any further, he started to read the single-spaced, two page document.

To the general’s amusement, he reread the document as if not believing or wanting to believe what he had said. After the second reading, the captain picked up his glass of bourbon and finished its contents in one gulp.

“That’s a precious commodity captain savor it!” the general said, knowing full well that he had the same reaction when he first read the document.

“General, this is no joke? I mean the words in this folder are all true?”

The general nodded. “When our prisoner Sirna Miliruid alluded to weapons of mass destruction, it was to be no joke. You were in the room, you heard him say those words. After Sirna’s disclosure, I inquired at the very top about the possibilities of such weapons being compromised, or hell, even existing. When I informed our President of the prisoner’s recent boasting, his eyes went wide. Igor, when I say wide, I mean he was scared. Really scared. After our meeting, he handed me the folder you have just read.” The general paused, looking him straight in the eye to communicate the seriousness of the situation before continuing. “So you can see Igor, Sirna told us the truth.”

The captain sat back in his chair, wondering who had ever envisioned such a nightmare scenario in the first place. “You mean we actually placed nuclear weapons in the United States? This is no joke?”

The general nodded once more.

“General, if the Americans know about this, they most likely have implemented the same strategy to use against us. They would be fools not too. And we both know they are not fools.”

The bourbon in his glass finished, the general reached for a pack of cigarettes. He extracted one before offering the same to the captain.

The captain stopped smoking weeks before but now he needed one more than ever.

“You are correct in your assumption captain,” the general said, lighting the captain’s cigarette, then his own. “We have firsthand knowledge that the Americans planted roughly the same amount of “suitcase weapons” that we planted in their country. So, they have effectively evened the playing field.

The captain exhaled his smoke into the air above him. “God help us all. Anyone could strike and kill the other before they had any chance of possibly responding.”

“Now you know the reason for the plan’s implementation. The other would not dare strike, knowing what would happen in response. A first strike was no longer deemed an option, its risk too great to exercise.” He paused to look at photos of his grandchildren, wondering what type of life they would have if this madman were to succeed in his mission. “That is exactly why you and you alone are heading to the United States. Your mission when you arrive, to hunt down this rebel before he starts World War Three. Starting from this minute on, you will have less than 64 hours before this rebel is to strike. We know the rebel’s first target will be in Washington DC.”

“General, we could insert a small team of specialists around the Washington location and await our rebel to show and then eliminate the bastard? That way our weapons could stay put in their present locations and the adversary is dead. We could have the best of both situations without it affecting us.”

General Poszk pondered the captain’s response for several seconds. He rose from his desk, extinguishing his cigarette in an ashtray, and walked back over to his where his bottle of Jim Beam lay. “Captain, what I have said to you and what I am about to tell you stays in this office, Top Secret. Not even your wife is to know of our discussion. Is that understood?”

“I understand fully sir,” the captain replied.

General Poszk poured himself another generous drink, in the process not offering to refill the captains. He had already shared enough of his private stock and Christmas was still 4 months off.

“We have a problem with our weapons location,” taking a sip of his drink before he proceeded. “According to our sources, the two weapons are just the beginning. We evidently have thirty more whose locations may already have been compromised. We apparently had a mole in our Washington DC office who has come back to roost. Now you know our larger problem. As for your suggestion to eliminate him, a team of specialists would draw attention to our little problem. We know that the American National Security Agency has monitored all of our coded telephone transactions, and it is only a matter of time before their master cryptologists break it. And they will eventually break it Igor; the Americans are very good at what they do. You may ask, how do we perform damage control on our end? From what we understand, the first one is definitely in the open. So it is only a matter of time until it’s removed or,” pausing as he finished the contents of his glass, “detonated.”

Captain Isinov sat staring at the general for several seconds, mesmerized by the last statement, focusing on the word detonated.

“What exactly do you expect of me general?”

The general turned to his young counterpart, admiring his courage, knowing why he had selected him and him alone for this urgent mission. He had a short list of names he could trust to accomplish the mission. Only the captain’s name stood out.

“You, my friend are to fly to Washington DC aboard an Aeroflot flight that departs in two hours. Once in Washington, you will head to the location we have provided you and remove the weapon under the cover of darkness. Use your own ingenuity to remove it, I am told it cannot explode without the proper codes. You will then call this number at the embassy,” he handed him a standard white business card with a telephone number, “and you will receive further instructions. It is important that you do not mention anything about the weapon to this man over the phone lines; only recite these numbers below the telephone number. You will then proceed with the weapon to a payphone located one block from the Embassy. You will once again call the embassy and recite the second set of numbers below the first. No need to worry about the remaining weapons, they will be collected over the next 3 months by special teams and returned before something like this could happen again. Right now, we are only concerned with the disclosed weapon. As for the rebel, we will allow the American FBI to deal with him,” smirking as he said it. “We will disclose to the Americans that we have a renegade spy who is in their midst with a death wish. He is an Islamic fundamentalist who seeks revenge for their harsh treatment of Afghanistan. That should have him quickly disposed of.”

General Poszk handed a white paper airline ticket with Aeroflot written in bold red lettering across its face to the captain. “You will be completely on your own until you contact the embassy. Up until that time, you are considered somewhat of a renegade yourself. I think you understand why it must be this way? We are walking on new ground with the Americans, actually helping our former enemy hunt down terrorists like this one who is operating in the United States.”

The general handed him a glass capsule the size of an ordinary cold tablet. “Just in case you get caught. Don’t worry, from what I hear from our folks in the FSB department, the capsule works within 5 seconds of biting down. They also inform me, it is painless.”

Captain Isinov understood the consequences of mission failure and nodded solemnly before biding a quick exit.