Chapter Fifteen
December 17
ECS Stockholm Station
Sweden
Carrie was hesitant about calling Natalya again so soon. The Russian agent had promised to contact Carrie as soon as the classified intelligence she was asking for would come into Natalya’s hands. But she had also warned Carrie that the task was practically impossible, considering Arkady Krestiyev was an active SVR operative. Carrie had agreed to owe Natalya a huge favor if she pulled this through, since she had the right connections inside Russia’s internal security service. If there was anyone who could get this done, it was Natalya Dragomirov, perhaps the fiercest FSB operative.
But it had been four hours since their call, and still no word from Natalya. Carrie fidgeted with her phone and sipped her tea. She gazed at the whiteboard, trying to make sense of the spider web of connections between al-Nueimi and his network of associates. Where are you? Why can’t we find you? And what are you plotting? She pursed her lips as she looked at the question marks inside the boxes all over the whiteboard.
Carrie shook her head and returned her eyes to her laptop. She tried to concentrate on analyzing a recent MI6 briefing update and data they had just received from the British foreign intelligence service. But her eyes skimmed over the words. She caught herself reading the same paragraph three times. Carrie sighed. Oh, this is making no sense.
“You okay?” Vale asked.
He was sitting across the table, hammering at his laptop, preparing the draft report of the operation for their boss.
“Yeah, just tired. I can’t make sense of this mess.” She gestured at the whiteboard.
Vale nodded. “Yes, it’s gotten so complicated. Our chances of finding al-Nueimi are slim. Without—”
Carrie’s ringing phone cut him off. She glanced at the screen and recognized Natalya’s number. “Sorry, Vale, I’ve got to take this.” She started to get up.
“No, stay, stay. I’ll . . . I’ll go stretch my legs. Get some fresh air.”
“Thanks. Yes, this is Carrie,” she answered the phone.
“Carrie, how are you?”
“Better now that you called.”
Natalya drew in a deep breath. “I’m not sure I have good news, but I do have an update.”
“Better than nothing.”
“Yes, but it may not be useful. First, the mole stealing Russian operations secrets in Syria. I can’t find any intel about his existence. I’m not saying he didn’t exist, but none of the records so far report anything about him.”
“Is that unusual?”
“No . . . well, it depends on the circumstances, and who’s affected by acknowledging the presence of a mole. It can be used to justify certain failures, as a scapegoat for botched missions. Other times, admitting there was a mole can be seen as incompetence, so the truth is buried and never stated in writing.”
“Okay, so nothing on the mole.”
“Yes, if there ever was a spy, he was eliminated, as Arkady said. But SVR files I’ve reviewed do not mention a spy.”
Carrie frowned. “Well, thanks for checking. It’s good to know.”
“Now, on the other issue, about Arkady’s operations in Syria, there’s even less intelligence. During Arkady’s missions in Syria, he was engaged in a few firefights, some of them very intense. It’s difficult to determine the combatants on the other side, other than they were ISIS-associated fighters or belonged to other terrorist groups.”
“Anything that links Arkady specifically to al-Nueimi?”
“No, unfortunately not.” Natalya’s voice rang with genuine regret.
“But it is possible.”
“Yes, it is. Al-Nueimi was reported as operating in those areas. Nothing places him with a hundred percent certainty in any of the battles, but we can’t really take the roll call of who’s raining RPG and machine gun fire on our comrades.”
“I understand, Natalya.”
“So, that’s it, Carrie. I know it’s not a lot.”
“Actually, this is quite useful. It helps me, us, understand a few things.”
Natalya let out a cough, then said, “Now, as for our deal, I have something for you. The favor you promised to do in exchange for this intelligence.” Natalya’s voice grew firmer, with a clear sense of expectation.
“Of course, what is it?”
“I have a name, and I need you to help me find her location.”
“Simple task, eh?”
A moment of hesitation. “No, not really. I wouldn’t ask you if it was something simple.”
Carrie shook her head. Natalya had missed the sarcasm in Carrie’s voice. “Who is this woman?”
“Ekaterina Egorov. She was an FSB agent, until she disappeared during a covert operation.”
“Where?”
“Northern Iraq.”
“I thought FSB didn’t run operations outside Russia?”
Natalya let out a low laugh. “We’re not supposed to do many things.”
“What op was it?”
“Spies exchange. Two SVR operatives were captured by a terrorist group. The Turkish intelligence agency, MIT, mediated the exchange of the operatives for a dozen or so terrorists in the hands of our military. But the exchange went bad.”
“What does that mean?”
“It was a trap. The SVR operatives were never there. A large horde of fighters opened fire as soon as our convoy came near the meeting place.”
“What happened?”
“Three of our operatives died; two suffered serious wounds, but recovered. In the ensuing chaos, Egorov disappeared.”
“Was she kidnapped?”
“We doubt it. Never received a ransom demand or any reports she fell into terrorists’ hands.”
“Any idea where she might be?”
“No.”
“Do you suspect she had anything to do with the ambush?”
“Look, Carrie, that’s all I can tell you,” Natalya said in a terse voice. “I . . . we don’t have anything concrete.”
“All right, I’ll see what I can do.”
“No, that’s . . . that’s not the deal we have, Carrie.”
Carrie’s fingers tightened around the phone. “I know, Natalya, but I’m not going to promise you I can find Egorov. I will do my best, that’s what I meant.”
“All right, that sounds much better.”
“I’ll get the ball rolling, but I won’t be able to pay much attention to her until we find al-Nueimi.”
“I understand. I’ll send you Egorov’s file, so you’ll have all you need to know.”
“That’s good.”
“All right. Keep me posted.”
“Yes, I will.”
Carrie ended the call and drew in a deep breath. Ekaterina Egorov. Why is FSB looking for you with such determination, but under a veil of secrecy? What did you do? A frown creased her forehead. And what am I doing striking a deal with the FSB?