Operation Petrograd

Three

Kazuka was ten minutes late. Carter was beginning to get worried about her, when she finally showed up out of breath. She was troubled.

"They're out in force," she said, kissing Carter on the cheek and sitting down.

They were at a small restaurant in the Ginza, the section of Tokyo where most of the nightclubs and fun spots were located. The area was a combination of London's Soho, New York's Times Square, and Berlin's Ku'damn. The area never slept.

"Russians?" Carter asked.

Kazuka nodded. "They were on me from the moment I left the hotel."

"Did you have any trouble?"

"I shook them on the way to the office, but when I came back out they were there. It wasn't so easy to lose them coming here, but I did. We are safe for the moment."

"Why the sudden escalation?" Carter asked. "I don't understand."

Their waiter came and they placed their order for assorted sushi, beef teriyaki, rice and sake. A big lunch, but Carter had a feeling he was going to need it.

"I think I have an answer for that one," Kazuka said. "Did you have any dealings with a Lieutenant Commander Howard Peyton?"

Carter sat forward. "What happened?"

"It was on the wire this morning, Nicholas. He was found shot to death in his North Arlington home. It looked as if he might have been tortured."

"The bastards," Carter said half to himself.

"Hawk sent an advisory for you. He said Peyton was some sort of an expert on Svetlaya, the Soviet submarine base. Did you know him?"

"I met with him a couple of hours before my plane took off," Carter said.

"It could just be a coincidence," Kazuka said.

Carter shook his head. "No, they knew I met with him. They probably got it out of him. Bastards." Carter quickly explained his run-in with Major Rishiri, and the planned diversion in front of the Soviet embassy. "The Russian had his gun out. He was getting set to shoot me down in broad daylight in a Shinto park. That's crazy!"

"There would have been much diplomatic trouble for the Soviets."

"You're damned right there would have been trouble, which means they don't have the faintest idea where Lavrov hid the computer chip. When they found out from Peyton what I had asked about, they were frantic. They think I know where the chip is hidden."

"What?"

Carter explained about the delicacy of the tiny chip, and the suitcase that Peyton had agreed to build.

"If he told the Russians that he was building such a suitcase," Kazuka said, "they'd have to believe you knew what the chip was and where it was."

"Which also means that they haven't found it yet either," Carter said. "Otherwise they wouldn't be so frantic to stop me."

Another plan began to form in Carter's mind. Finding the computer chip in Tokyo would be next to impossible. Only a stroke of blind luck could help them now. The microchip could be anywhere, even at the bottom of Tokyo Bay. It was even possible that Lavrov had fooled them all — his own people as well as Paul Tibbet. It was possible he never had the chip. Or it was equally possible he had hidden it somewhere outside of Tokyo, only telling Tibbet it was within the city to throw him off.

The odds of finding the computer chip Lavrov said he had brought out weren't worth thinking about. However, Carter knew for certain where at least one chip was located.

Svetlaya.

After lunch they made their way back to Kyobashi, the huge television tower modeled after Paris's Eiffel Tower rising in the distance to the north. Kazuka made two passes by the AXE office, each time spotting a different Soviet team. She parked a block away and they made their way back to the tall apartment building next to the building that housed Amalgamated Press and Wire Services.

In the basement they hurried along the dimly lit maintenance corridor filled with cable runs, plumbing, and heating ductwork to a thick steel door that Kazuka unlocked.

Inside, they took the elevator up to her office.

Besides making this particular operation more difficult, the fact that the Russians were parked outside their front door was disturbing for normal AXE business. Something would have to be done soon to remove Amalgated Press from any suspicion. Their cover had been built too carefully for it to go down the drain because of one assignment.

Kazuka led Carter into the back rooms, which were screened from any electronic surveillance. The outer offices were busy. Besides AXE assignments, Amalgamated Press was a legitimate, working wire service that gathered and transmitted real news.

It was late evening in Washington when Carter's call to Hawk went through.

"You've heard about Peyton," Hawk said.

"Yes, sir. He was doing some work for me," Carter said, and he quickly explained what he and Peyton had discussed, and what the navy man had promised to do.

"What's your situation there, Nick?"

"Not good, sir. I don't think we have a chance of finding the Petrograd chip here. The Russians have no idea where to look. And they've become careless and trigger happy."

"I was afraid of that."

"I have something else in mind, sir," Carter said. He looked up. Kazuka was staring at him.

"Go ahead," Hawk said.

"I'll need the cooperation of our embassy and Arnold Scott, as well as the Japanese."

"Has Rishiri made contact with you yet?"

"He was waiting in the lobby of my hotel this morning."

"They'll have to be told, then. Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes, sir."

"You want to set up a diversion there in Tokyo. Make the Russians think that the CIA and Japanese intelligence are mounting an intensive search for the chip. Meanwhile… you want to get into Svetlaya."

"Yes, sir," Carter said. "And for that I'm going to need a lot of help."

"You've got it, Nick. The President has given us a green light for anything other than an all-out shooting war. We want that computer chip!"

"I'll see if I can bring it back for you. Meanwhile, see if someone else on Peyton's staff can come up with such a suitcase. Get it over here to me as soon as possible."

"Good luck, Nick."

"Thanks, sir, I think I'll need some."

Carter hung up the phone, went to the one-way window, and looked down at the busy city. For what he had in mind, he would definitely need Major Rishiri's cooperation. A lot of pressure would have to be put on the Japanese to go along with this operation. The Soviet Union was barely two hundred miles across the Sea of Japan from Hokkaido, the north island. The huge Russian bear had always loomed ominously to the north.

"You're going to Svetlaya," Kazuka said softly.

Carter nodded, and then turned to her. Her face mirrored her fears. "We'll never find the chip here."

"Is it that important, Nicholas?"

Carter nodded.

She seemed to gather up her spirit. She smiled and nodded. "Then we will do it right so that you will come back. My uncle's house is still there in the mountains waiting for us."

"Who have we got up in Hokkaido?"

"We have a small listening post in a fishing village just south of Wakkanai… that's on the very northern tip of Hokkaido. Mostly brush country with the mountains inland. Very cold at this time of year."

"How about a fishing boat and crew?"

"To take you across to Svetlaya?" she asked. She shook her head. "You wouldn't get within fifty miles of the place. You certainly would never have a chance to land."

Carter smiled. "Who knows?" he said. "Set something up for me."

"When do you want to leave?"

"Tonight," Carter said, and Kazuka sucked in her breath.

"Have someone pick up my things at the hotel."

"Where will I see you?"

"How do I get up to Hokkaido?"

"By air," she said. She named the small airstrip outside of the city.

"I'll see you there, then," Carter said. "Ten o'clock."

"Where are you going now?"

"To set up another diversion."

On the way down into the basement, Carter thought about Major Rishiri. He had blamed American interventionism in the region for the loss of his hand. He would be the weak link in this operation, though in many respects he could be the most important.

Carter made his way to the American embassy in Kojimachi-ku without incident. Inside he was given the runaround for the first ten minutes by a junior staffer in Consular Affairs until someone began to realize that at the very least they had someone on their hands who knew the entire CIA operational chart for Tokyo. Arnold Scott was finally called down.

Scott was one of the old hands from way back. He should have been manning a desk at Langley, but he preferred field assignments. He and Hawk knew each other, and although Scott had heard of Carter, they had never met.

They shook hands when Scott showed up in the Consular Affairs office. "I just got a call from your boss," he said.

They went upstairs to Scott's fourth-floor office. His secretary brought them coffee, and when they were alone Scott pulled a bottle of bourbon out of his desk and poured some into each of their coffee cups.

"Hawk has pulled out the big guns," Scott said. "We've gotten it from on high that we're to cooperate with you one hundred percent."

"I appreciate it."

Scott shook his head. "Hawk said something about never finding the chip here in Tokyo…?"

"Even if it is here, I don't think we'd find it in a hundred years of searching."

"So what are we all doing here?"

"Not nearly enough. I'm going to need a diversion. The bigger the better."

Scott's eyes narrowed. "What have you got in mind, Carter?"

"We need the Petrograd chip. It's highest priority."

"But you just said…"

"Right — we'll never find the chip here in Tokyo. But I know where another one is."

Scott started to protest, but then he sat back in his chair, a look of amazement on his face. "Svetlaya."

Carter nodded.

"You're going to lift a computer chip out of a Soviet submarine in the middle of the most heavily guarded base in the world.

"Something like that. But if the Russians here in Tokyo think we've stopped looking, they might begin to get worried about Svetlaya, and beef up their security even more."

Scott thought about that for a moment or two. Carter took a sip of his laced coffee. It was good.

"The Japanese will have to be informed," Scott said. "How does Hawk feel about that?"

"It'll make the operation seem more legitimate."

"But we're not going to tell them what's really going on?"

That was a tough one. "Not yet, I don't think," Carter said. "Major Matsu Rishiri and I have done business before, and he doesn't particularly care for me."

Again Scott fell silent while he thought that through. "You've made arrangements to get to Svetlaya?"

"Yes, I have."

"I don't want to know about it." Scott shook his head. "Paul Tibbet was a good man. They killed him right here in Tokyo over the chip. They won't be kind to you either if you're caught."

"No, they won't."

Scott reached out and flipped his intercom button. "Get Major Rishiri on the telephone. Tell him I'd like to meet with him here — immediately. Top priority."

"Yes, sir," his secretary said.

Scott poured them some more coffee and bourbon. "Between Rishiri's men and my people, we should be able to make a pretty fair-sized stink."

"One that I'll have to be personally involved in," Carter added.

"What?"

"I want the Russians to see me. I want them to know that I'm here in Tokyo."

"If they've seen you here, and believe you're still here, they won't suspect you're jogging off to Svetlaya."

"Something like that," Carter said, grinning.

Scott's secretary buzzed him five minutes later. "Mr. Scott… Major Rishiri is here already, sir."

Scott's eyebrows rose. "Send him in."

"He's been following me around," Carter said. He and Scott got to their feet as the major came in.

"I was expecting this little meeting," Rishiri said cooly. He didn't look too happy.

"Good afternoon, Major," Scott said. "You know Mr. Carter, I believe."

"Indeed," Rishiri said. "On Mr. Carter's account I have spent a trying half hour this morning with my boss and my Secretary of State. They are two very persuasive men who do not enjoy becoming involved in the personal likes or dislikes of their subordinates."

"Then you'll cooperate with us?" Carter snapped. He was tired of playing games with the man.

"For the moment, Mr. Carter, for the moment."

"We start tonight, Major."

"Start what?" Rishiri asked.

"You asked me what the Russians were looking for, and why Paul Tibbet was killed. Now I will tell you."

Rishiri looked to Scott. "Carter is CIA? He works for you? He is to be assigned here in Tokyo?"

"No to all of the above. Mr. Carter is simply here on a special assignment. When it is completed, he will leave."

"Good," Rishiri said. "Good. Now tell me everything, Nicholas-san."

Carter went through most of the story again, including the business with Lieutenant Lavrov attempting to trade the Petrograd chip for a secret defection. He left out his discussion with Howard Peyton, and of course made no mention of Kazuka, AXE, and his plans for departing Hokkaido that night.

When Carter was finished, Rishiri fell into a thoughtful silence. Scott looked at Carter and shrugged.

"The only ones who will have any chance of finding the chip are the Russians themselves. We have to follow them. All of them. Night and day. The moment they come up with the chip, we'll grab it," Scott said.

"It is their property after all," Rishiri said reasonably.

"The Petrograd-class submarine, once it is fully operational, will seriously upset the balance of power. It could mean war."

"Spare me the histrionics, Carter."

"Will we have your cooperation?"

Rishiri hesitated. Finally, however, he nodded. "Of course. It will be interesting to see how the Russians will react to your presence. Their man in the park across from their embassy is dead. Their ambassador has been called to see my Prime Minister. You have been here for barely twenty-four hours, and already there is trouble. There will be more. But I have nothing to say about it."

Major Rishiri arranged for two rooms on the twenty-first floor of the new Tokyo Hilton that had a good view of the Soviet embassy. Within a couple of hours a complete communications net had been set up in one of the rooms, while in the other, surveillance gear had been installed so that the embassy itself could be monitored visually, aurally, and electronically. The systems were all passive, so that the Russians would not be able to detect the surveillance. They would, however, be able to monitor the communications net.

Rishiri had at least two dozen of his people in the field, while Scott had been able to muster only a half dozen of his legmen. It was enough, however, to completely cover the Soviet embassy and especially KGB operations. It was also enough for the Russians to know that something was going on. How they were going to react was anyone's guess.

Carter managed to slip away into the lobby of the hotel long enough in the late afternoon to call Kazuka and confirm that she had been able to make all the arrangements.

"Everything is ready, Nicholas," she said. "But what is happening with the Russian embassy? There is a lot of activity over there."

"Call our people back. This is Scott's and Rishiri's show," Carter said.

"You're involved with it?"

"Yes, but listen to me very carefully, Kazuka. No matter what you hear… no matter what you think may be happening, stick to our schedule. Do you understand?"

"I hope so, Nicholas."

"I'll see you tonight at ten."

"Good luck," she said.

Carter hung up and went back upstairs. It was starting to become a habit for people to wish him luck on this assignment. It was beginning to get on his nerves.

By six that evening it was becoming obvious what the Russians were up to. They had divided their efforts into six teams, each assigned to one of Tokyo's major districts: Kanda, Hongo, Kyobashi, Asakusa, Nihonbashi, and Kojimachi-ku.

They evidently had a list of Lavrov's haunts and contacts, as well as the haunts and contacts of other embassy employees.

Step by step they were literally taking Tokyo apart, a Herculean task into which they had thrown themselves with a frenzy.

And there were troubles because of it. Besides the Russian killed in the Shinto park across from their embassy, two Japanese dockworkers had been killed in Nihonbashi when they had attempted to stop two unidentified men from coming aboard a vessel that had come from the Soviet Union five days earlier. Tokyo police didn't know who the killers were, though Rishiri's people did. But they had orders only to follow and to observe, not to interfere unless the Russians actually found the chip.

By eight the opportunity Carter was waiting for finally came. The timing was cutting it close, but he had wanted to make sure.

A small riot had broken out in the Ginza between a couple of Russians and several dozen Japanese teen-age toughs. Rishiri hurried off to see what he could do to calm things down without bringing too much police attention into play.

Carter and Scott left the hotel a couple of minutes later, separating in front. Scott had his instructions for the pickup. He didn't like the idea very much, but he was enough of an old field man to understand — considering the pressure of time — that there weren't many options.

Scott went for his car while Carter headed on foot directly over to the Soviet embassy. The building was lit up like a three-ring circus and was just as busy, teams coming and going.

Kojimachi-ku was a modern district of Tokyo. It was mostly well lit and busy with traffic.

It look Carter nearly ten minutes to make it over to the embassy. He stationed himself once again across the street near the entrance of the Shinto park, though for the moment he hid himself in the shadows.

The Russians wanted him, if for nothing else than the fact that one of their men had been killed on his behalf.

At the agreed-upon time four minutes later, Carter stepped out of the shadows so that he was in plain view of the embassy. A car came out of the gate. Carter pulled out a notebook and wrote down its license number.

He started toward the food stand a moment later — and saw a pair of agents rushing out of the embassy. Carter turned and pulled out his Luger at the same moment he saw Scott's car turning the corner.

Carter raised his gun and squeezed off a shot high. He was playing a dangerous game here. His life depended now upon the fact that the two KGB agents across the street were professionals and knew how to shoot.

They opened fire, three rounds catching Carter high in the chest, driving him backward, off his feet.

Traffic was screeching to a halt, and people were shouting and screaming.

Scott pulled to a stop a split second later and rushed to where Carter lay. The Russians had stepped back into the embassy compound and were watching from the shadows as Scott hurriedly dragged Carter back to the car and unceremoniously dumped him into the back seat.

Scott stopped a moment to look across at the embassy, then he jumped into his car and took off as police sirens began to sound in the distance.