Page 95 of Denied Access
“Volkov said the same thing. That’s why we’re in Vienna. Outside of Washington, DC, this city has the largest contingent of Russian intelligence officers abroad. It’s by far the most important espionage-related city in Europe. I told Volkov to drop in on some of his former coworkers.”
Irene stared at the speakerphone as if the inanimate device could provide context to Stan’s answer. He wanted to use a defector to strike up a conversation with current Russian intelligence officers? Surely she’d misheard. “I think using Volkov to spot and assess potential SVR officers for us to target is fantastic out-of-the-box thinking, but we don’t have weeks or months to go through the recruiting process. We need answers now.”
“Agreed,” Hurley said. “That’s why I told Volkov to think unconventionally.”
Irene felt her headache return with a vengeance. The wordsStan Hurleyandconventionaldid not belong in the same sentence. If the man whose default setting was to play fast and loose wanted someone to think unconventionally, she could only imagine what chaos might ensue. “What exactly does that mean, Stan?”
“It’s like this. I’m betting Petrov has gotten out over his skis and he’s making his contemporaries nervous.”
Irene stopped massaging her temples. “Why do you say that?”
“Gut feeling backed up by a couple of facts.”
“Start with the facts.”
Hurley laughed. “You never did think much of my gut. Okay, stick with me. The effort to oust Gorbachev was, what, two years ago? Thecoup had the backing of the KGB’s leadership and the army along with a whole bunch of Communist Party bigwigs, but it still failed. When push came to shove, the KGB’s and Soviet military’s rank-and-file members refused to follow their orders to storm the Russian parliament building. After the dust settled, the coup’s leaders were imprisoned or executed, the KGB broken apart, and the Soviet Union dissolved.”
“I’m with you so far.”
“Great, because that takes us to today. Russia is no longer a communist totalitarian state, but it’s not a bastion of democracy either. Corruption has run rampant, many former KGB officers have become instant oligarchs, and Russia’s first democratically elected president begins his day with a vodka and orange juice and switches to straight vodka by lunch. Things are not going well for the Motherland.”
“And you think what—Petrov is mounting another coup?”
Hurley sighed. “I think that some of the same people who stopped the coup against Gorbachev a couple of years back might have buyer’s remorse. Look, Petrov has always been a mover and shaker. Had the coup not happened, he’d probably be running the KGB today. But it did, and the KGB was split in half. Petrov is one of the leaders of the FSK and now works the counterintelligence mission. Foreign intelligence collection is handled by the SVR, meaning that the Russians in Vienna don’t work for Petrov and may not be on board with whatever the hell he’s doing.”
“You think Volkov might be able to open a back channel to the SVR?”
“We’re flying blind, Irene. We missed the coup against Gorbachev and dodged a bullet when it wasn’t successful. We got lucky once. We shouldn’t count on getting lucky twice.”
Irene agreed. She glanced at the clock that displayed Moscow time in uncompromising red LED digits. Only a few hours until nightfall and her opportunity to signal the Russian volunteer. Now was the time to throw everything at the wall and hope that something stuck. “This plan of yours, it’s not without significant risk to Volkov.”
“I know. So does he. We’ve already come to a financial agreement. I’m going to provide security for him during his meets, but like you said, the sense of urgency doesn’t allow for finesse. Things might get rough.”
Irene refrained from pointing out that Stan Hurley had never been known for his finesse. Instead, she focused on what was actually transpiring in this conversation. Only weeks ago, Hurley had all but questioned her fitness to be Rapp’s handler. Now he was coming to her for approval when he could have just run the operation without her knowledge. Stan Hurley might really be turning over a new leaf.
Or maybe the world was about to end.
“Thank you for letting me know, Stan. I think your reasoning is solid and your plan, while risky, is worth the potential reward. I’m working something here too. Hopefully between the two of us, we’ll get answers for Stansfield.”
“Count on it, Irene. Good hunting.”
“Good hunting, Stan.”
Only Stan could give her a kick in the ass by being nice. Her team of case officers were certain that they were compromised by FSK watchers. That might be true, or it might be that the men and women under her charge had been badly rattled and were now jumping at shadows. One way or another, they were about to find out.
Moscow Station was done sitting on the sidelines.
CHAPTER 52
WASHINGTON, DC
WHATwas your guy thinking?”
Zeke Williams let the question hang in the air as he poured himself another helping. He wasn’t normally big on traditional martinis, but the Texas version was quite the rage at the Lone Star State–themed Davy’s Tavern.
“My guy?”
Zeke pointed at his dinner companion with his newly filled martini glass as he answered. “Stansfield is your guy, right? You told me the rank-and-file officers loved him, and that my boss should help him over the finish line. We made the rounds with the right senators and teed up the committee hearing expecting him to hit a home run. Instead he struck out on national television. Is he the right guy or not?”
