The Russian Woman

Chapter 10

Carlson's office looked out over the Virginia countryside and a parking lot filled with cars. The windows were made of a composite that could turn away a fifty-caliber round. If someone tried to listen in by focusing an electronic beam on one of the windows, they would be disappointed. Not that anyone would be stupid enough to sit out in the parking lot with a laser, spying on Langley's leaders.

Two chairs were placed in front of Carlson's enormous desk.

Carlson nodded at them. "Mike, Jenna. Take a seat."

Thorne's inner alarms went off. Whenever Carlson called him by his first name, he wanted something. Whatever he wanted usually meant trouble.

Carlson looked at Jenna. "Have you briefed him?"

"We went over the satellite footage together."

"What did you think, Mike?"

"The Russians are going to make trouble. That base is close to the oil fields," Thorne said.

Carlson nodded. "Too close. The DCI thinks that's why they're there. To go after the oil."

"That would explain the troop buildup. But why now?"

"Sevim is about to invade Syria and chew up the Kurds. Once that starts, they'll be fully occupied with fighting the Turks. The fields will be lightly defended."

"Making them easy pickings for the Russians," Jenna said.

"Are we going to do anything about it?" Thorne asked.

"Military options are being discussed," Carlson said. "The problem is that we need more information. That's where you come in. Someone has to take a look at what we can't see on the satellites."

Thorne looked at him.

"You want me to go to Syria?"

"That's right."

"What am I supposed to do there?"

Jenna looked uncomfortable.

"The president and the Joint Chiefs want more intelligence about Russian intentions. Your job is to get it."

"You have to be kidding me," Thorne said. "It doesn't take a military genius to see what their intentions are. You don't drop first line combat troops into the middle of the Syrian desert if you're not going to start an offensive. The only logical objective is the oil. What else could it be?"

"That's what we want you to find out," Carlson said. "When Director Kramer meets with the president, she needs to know we have solid intelligence on what the Russians plan to do. That means eyes and ears on the ground. That's you. You speak fluent Arabic and Russian. There's no one better to do this. We have a low-level asset in Latakia who works at Khmeimim. He'll find a way to get you onto that base. He won't be expecting you. You'll have to look him up and talk to him."

"You don't have a way to contact him, tell him I'm coming?"

"He's not James Bond, Thorne. He doesn't have a secret radio. He's not a trained agent, only a patriotic local who hates the regime. There's no way to get in touch with him except a direct meeting."

"You expect me to find out exactly what the Russians are going to do."

"That's right. Once you're on the base, keep your ears open."

"I suppose you wouldn't mind if I could grab a copy of their battle plan."

"That would be a good result."

"I was joking, Lewis."

"It would still be a good result. I'll leave it up to you and Jenna to take care of the details. I want you there within the next couple of days. Don't turn this into another Turkey."

"Is that it?"

"Do you have any questions?"

"You have any answers?"

Carlson sighed. "Jenna, get him out of here."

As they were walking down the hall, Jenna turned to him.

"You can't resist, can you? You have to poke the bear."

"He pisses me off."

"It's his nature. I don't think he can help it."

"You heard that crack about Turkey. He still thinks I chickened out."

"If he really thought that, he wouldn't send you to Syria. Whatever else he is, he's dedicated to getting results. He knows you're the best person for this. You are, you know."

"Maybe."

"No maybe about it, Mike. Let's go back to my office. Like Lewis said, we need to work out the details."