Operation Petrograd

Six

The late dawn broke dark and cold over the large seas a hundred miles off the Soviet coast. Heido had already been up for an hour when Carter got dressed and went topside to the wheelhouse. Suiko, the second eldest daughter, was at the helm while her father scanned the seas through a pair of binoculars.

"Good morning, Carter-san," Suiko said.

"Good morning."

Heido lowered his binoculars and looked over. "Your stomach and head are all right this morning?"

Carter was one of those few people who never seemed to get seasick. Only once, when he was aboard the space shuttle in free fall, had he felt a slight nausea. This morning he felt fit and rested. Even the pain in his chest from his cracked ribs had eased to a tolerable level.

"I'm fine," he said. "Any signs of the Russians?"

"No," Heido said. "There were lights earlier to the north, but I believe they were another Japanese fishing boat." He looked out the windows. "We may have some difficulty, however, Carter-san."

"Yes?" Carter asked, looking out at the choppy seas and the whitecaps."

"My daughters say in the night they have heard a great deal of Russian radio traffic. There may be some sort of a naval exercise today. If that is so, we will not get close to any part of the coast."

Carter glanced up at the powerful communications radio in its rack above the pilot's position. It was silent.

"They have maintained radio silence since six this morning," Suiko said.

"It is always so when they conduct their maneuvers," Heido added.

Again Carter stared out across the sea. It was possible, he told himself, that the Russians had not fallen for his ruse in Tokyo. It was very possible that they knew about the construction of the special computer chip carrying case, and had realized that someone might be trying for the chip at Svetlaya. If that were so, the morning's naval exercise was designed to stop any such attempt.

The Russians were efficient and ruthless, Carter thought. The downing of the Korean jet with all of its passengers not so very far from where they now were proved that. The Russians certainly would not hesitate to sink their boat and let all hands go down with her.

The next question in Carter's mind was whether or not he wanted to submit Heido and his three daughters to such a risk.

"What troubles you, Carter-san?" Heido asked.

"This naval operation may mean that they know or suspect I am here."

Heido looked at him for a long time. "This thing that you wish to steal from them… it is that important?"

"Yes, it is," Carter said.

"If they board us, and if they find the suitcase, they will surely know what it is you are after?"

Carter nodded.

"But to throw the suitcase overboard would make your mission impossible, yes?"

Again Carter nodded.

"A difficult decision, Carter-san," Heido said thoughtfully. He looked at his eldest daughter for a long moment, then looked out to sea. "But it is your decision. We will do whatever you wish, for at times they are a government without a conscience."

Carter knew Heido was thinking about his wife and son. The Killmaster realized it had to be very difficult for the old man to live so close to the Russians without being able to do anything to them.

Carter turned and went back to the main cabin where he took out Heido's charts of the Soviet coast and studied them again.

There had to be another way, he told himself. One in which there would be no risk for civilians such as Heido and his daughters. They were so close now, though — less than a hundred miles from the sub pens. And yet it might just as well have been a million miles with the Russian navy out there running its exercise.

He lit a cigarette as he tried to think of an alternative plan. In his career he had been on a number of seemingly impossible missions — operations in which the odds of his success were so slim they were barely worth considering.

Perhaps, he told himself, this was the one mission that was impossible, the one mission in which there were absolutely no odds in favor of his success. If that were the case, he would be throwing away not only his own life in an attempt, he would be forfeiting the lives of everyone helping hint.

He went to the carrying case and opened it. It was densely packed with batteries and electronic equipment. Only a very small slot behind a spring-loaded glass door was empty, ready to receive the submarine's computer chip.

At what cost? he asked himself. If the operation were a success, the cost would be acceptable. If he failed, the cost would be far too great.

Again he looked over at the charts spread out on the table. There had to be another way.

Mioshi appeared at the door. "Carter-san — the Russians are here!" she said urgently.

Carter spun around. "Have they boarded us?"

"Not yet. But they are less than fifty meters off our port side."

"We are simple fisherman," Carter snapped in perfect Japanese. "You may tell your father it is time for us to return home."

Mioshi bowed deeply, turned, and hurried back up to the wheelhouse. Carter grabbed the carrying case and ran topside on the starboard side with it.

The seas were very rough. He could hear the powerful diesels of the Russian ship even over the wind. Making sure the carrying case latches were open, he tossed it overboard. A wave caught the case, held it high for a moment, and then it tumbled end over end into the trough and sank.

Carter climbed up to the wheelhouse just as Heido was throttling back to slow them down. The Russian gunboat was just off their port bow. The Soviet captain's voice was blaring over the radio, first in Russian and then in very poor Japanese, ordering them to identify themselves. Heido had the microphone.

"Tell them a thousand pardons, but we thought we were still in international waters," Carter said.

Heido keyed the mike and repeated Carter's message in rapid-fire Japanese.

The radio was silent for a moment.

"Tell them who we are," Carter said.

Heido identified himself, again in rapid Japanese. Carter could just see the Soviet captain and his translator trying to understand the messages.

"Stand by for a boarding party," the Russian radioed.

Carter shook his head.

"Begging your pardon, sir, but we cannot allow that, since we are clearly in international waters," Heido radioed.

"You will comply!" the Soviet captain bellowed.

Heido smiled. He reached up and flipped the channel selector to the international distress frequency. "Mioshi says you have gotten rid of the suitcase?"

Carter nodded.

Heido turned back to the microphone. "Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. This is the Japanese fishing vessel Tiger Lily, in international waters, calling Mayday."

Almost immediately the Japanese Coastal Safety Service came back: "Fishing vessel Tiger Lily, say your exact position and the nature of your emergency."

The Soviet gunboat suddenly peeled off to the west where a couple of hundred yards away she stopped, her guns at the ready. It was clear §he meant simply to block any further progress.

"Let's go back," Carter said.

Heido was clearly relieved. "A very wise decision, Carter-san, considering the circumstances."

"Tiger Lily, say again your position and the nature of your distress," the radio blared.

Heido turned the wheel over to Mioshi, and as they headed back toward Hokkaido, he got on the radio and apologized to the Coastal Safety Service operator, thanking them for their vigilance but reporting that their flooding was now under control and for the moment they were in no need of assistance.

Carter stepped out of the wheelhouse into the cold wind and looked back at the Soviet gunboat. These were international waters, and the Soviet captain did not want to risk an incident. Not here. It was the Russian's error, though. Had the captain let them get closer to the coast, he would have had a good case for boarding them.

Svetlaya, at least by sea, was impossible, Carter thought. But there would be another way. There had to be. His only concern was time. Sooner or later all the Petrograd-class subs would have been deployed from Svetlaya. They would be at sea. By then it would be far too late to do anything about them.

Heido came out on deck. Carter gave him a cigarette and they both smoked in silence for a while as the Russian gunboat faded into the distance.

"You will not give this up, I suspect, Carter-san," Heido said.

"No, it's too important."

Heido nodded.

Kazuka and the girls were waiting for them at the dock when they returned that evening just after dark. They had monitored the Soviet exercise broadcasts in the early morning and then the exchange between Heido and the Soviet gunboat captain.

"What about the carrying case?" Kazuka asked when they were tied up.

"It's gone. I tossed it overboard when we thought the Russians might board us. We're going back to Tokyo tonight."

"Svetlaya is out?"

"For the time being, and so are you," Carter said. They started back up to the house. Kazuka wasn't very happy with his decision.

"Tokyo is still my station, Nicholas."

"It's going to get a little hairy back there once I show up. Especially if the Russians spot me. I want you to go up to your uncle's house for a while. At least until things settle down."

Kazuka stopped him. In the dim light she looked up into his eyes. "Your concern is touching, Nicholas. But I am an AXE chief of station. And Tokyo is my city."

"They tortured you, for crissakes!"

"And they broke your ribs," she flared. "Are you going back to Washington until you mend?"

Heido came up behind them. He was laughing. "Carter-san is a Western man. He has not yet learned about the resiliency of women."

Carter finally shook his head in defeat. Kazuka reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

"That's better," she said.

They walked up to the house, and while the girls went to get the car, Carter and Kazuka went into Heido's communications room, hidden across from the rock garden just off the central core of the house. Powerful receivers scanned several dozen Soviet military channels, while big tape decks recorded everything. Every twelve hours his daughters reviewed what was taped, calling to their father's attention anything that seemed important.

He had a secure link with the AXE office in Tokyo, with an automatic link from there by satellite to Washington.

It took only a minute or so for the connections to be made and for Hawk's telephone to ring. Kazuka left to speak with Heido and to pack their bags.

"It's me," Carter said when Hawk came on the line.

"Are you at Ishinomari's on Hokkaido?"

"Yes, sir. We tried for Svetlaya last night."

"Was anyone hurt?"

"No, sir, nor was the mission compromised. But it won't be possible to get there from here."

The line was silent for a long time.

"Sir?" Carter prompted.

"I spoke with the President again. The Japanese government has lodged a protest with us as well as with the Soviets. But listen to me, N3. We think that the Russians are getting set to move their Petrograd submarines out of Svetlaya in the very near future — probably within the next few days."

"We have to get to them first. Once they're out, we'll never catch up with them."

"Exactly, so we're going to have to move fast. How are you — still fit? There was some trouble at an airstrip, I understand."

"Fit enough, sir," Carter said. It wasn't exactly a lie, but he was not going to be pulled off this assignment now. "What do you have in mind?"

"I'm still working on it. When will you be back in Tokyo?"

"By about six A.M. local, sir. And I was thinking that if it were possible to get me to Vladivostok, I might be able to make a try from there."

"It's going to be more complicated than that, I'm afraid. This time it's out of my hands."

"Sir?"

"The CIA is going to be in on this," Hawk said tiredly. Carter could hear the strain in his voice.

"No way around it?" Carter asked. He had a great deal of respect for the Central Intelligence Agency; it was just that their operations tended to be very large, very expensive, and often very messy. AXE operations, on the other hand, were almost always small, fast, and clean.

"Sorry, Nick. President's orders."

The Vice-President had been a former CIA chief. The decision wasn't very surprising to Carter.

"When you get back to Tokyo I want you to report to Arnold Scott. He's a good man."

"Yes, sir. We've already met."

"You're not working for him or the Company, Nick. But neither are they working for you. This is going to be a joint operation."

"We'll be needing another carrying case."

"Two others were made. They're on their way out to you, along with Tom Barber, another Company man who'll be tagging along."

Carter was almost afraid to ask if there was more.

"Miss Akiyama and our Tokyo office are going to have to act as bait for the Russians as well as the Japanese. You're dead. And that's the official line. So you're going to have to keep out of sight in Tokyo."

"Yes, sir," Carter said glumly. It meant Kazuka was not only going to be exposed out in the open again, it also meant that all of Tokyo's AXE operations would be in jeopardy. The submarine's computer chip was extraordinarily important.

"Get the chip, Nick," Hawk said. "You have to."

"I'll do my best."

Carter broke the connection and went back into the main section of the house as Heido and Kazuka were saying their good-byes.

"Ah, Carter-san," Heido said. "You are ready to leave now?"

Carter nodded. "Thank you for your help, Heido."

"I am sorry it did not result in the ends you desired. But I believe you made a wise decision this morning."

Carter brought his hands together and bowed deeply.

During the hour-and-a-half drive to the airport outside Haboro, Carter explained to Kazuka what Hawk had told him. She wasn't very happy about the situation, but she understood that her part in keeping the Russians and the Japanese busy and distracted would help ensure the ultimate success of the mission.

Like Carter she was concerned that a joint operation would have a good chance of running into trouble, especially if it were big and noisy.

It was well after midnight by the time they had made it to the airstrip, had the plane serviced and warmed up, and finally got airborne for the six-hundred-mile return trip.

Despite the protests of the Japanese government, Carter suspected that the Russians would still be doing a good job covering Tokyo. An inbound flight of a Cessna 310 from the north at three or four in the morning would be unusual enough for someone to take notice. Instead they skirted Tokyo to the east, flying over Tokyo Bay and landing at Yokosuka, some thirty miles to the south.

The first trains departed for Tokyo at around five, so they had plenty of time to arrange for the airplane to be stored and to take a cab over to the depot. They did not think it wise to travel together, so Kazuka took the first train.

"Be careful, Nicholas," she said.

"You too. All hell is going to break loose around here when we make the grab. They snatched you once; the next time they might kill you."

She kissed him on the cheek. "Sayanora, Carter-san."

Carter took the next train, which left eight minutes later. Already the station was starting to fill with people who commuted into Tokyo to work.

Aboard the train, tea and coffee was served by pretty hostesses. Despite the crowding, everyone was polite and orderly.

It was just a little after six-thirty when Carter got off the train in Tokyo's Hongo section. He found a public telephone and called Arnold Scott at the embassy residence. Carter's name was not mentioned in case the telephone was tapped.

"We've been expecting you. Where are you?"

"Same place you dropped me off."

"Right," Scott said, and he broke the connection.

Carter stepped away from the phone booth, walked across the street, and slipped into a quiet park. No one was there at that hour of the morning, though the area would soon begin to fill with students.

Twenty minutes after his call, a blue windowless van turned the corner and cruised slowly up the street. Carter did not recognize the driver, but Arnold Scott was seated on the passenger side.

Carter let the van pass and turn the corner; he held his position within the park. If Scott was any good at all, he would have made sure he was not being tailed — or had lost his tail — before showing up.

Five minutes later no other vehicles had driven past the park and the blue van came down the block again. This time Carter stepped out from the park. The van pulled up, the side door slid open, and Carter jumped inside.

"Were you being tailed?" Carter asked as he slid the door closed and they took off.

"We were at the embassy but managed to ditch them down in Asakusa before we swung around up here," Scott said.

"How have things been over the past thirty-six hours?"

"Noisy," Scott said. "They found a couple of dead Russians floating in the river the other night. You didn't happen to have anything to do with that, did you?"

"How are you and Major Rishiri getting along?"

Scott just looked at Carter for a long time. He finally shook his head. "Not well. But you and I are going to have to work together on this one…"

"I know. Has Tom Barber shown up yet?"

Scott's eyes widened. "How did you find out about Tom?"

Carter shrugged. "Has he shown up yet?"

The driver, a rugged-looking man Carter guessed to be in his mid to late thirties, glanced up at the rearview mirror, then stuck a hand back over his shoulder.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Carter. I've heard quite a bit about you."

"Not bad," Carter said, smiling. He shook the man's hand. "When did you get in?"

"A couple of hours ago. I brought something along for you."

"The carrying cases?"

"Two of them. I understand you ran into a little trouble."

"I had to ditch the one I was carrying," Carter said. Barber looked fit enough. Carter hoped he would be up to the job.