In the conference room on the fifth floor of Blokhin National Medical Research Center, Aleksandr Plecas held his wife in his arms as she squeezed him tightly. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but unlike a few days ago in their hotel room, they were tears of joy. Dr. Vasiliev had just delivered the news—the expensive experimental drug for their daughter had been approved, and the odds it would cure Natasha’s cancer were good.
Vasiliev and the other doctors filed quietly from the room, leaving Plecas alone with his wife. She looked up at him and asked the inevitable question. “How did you arrange this?”
“I have a friend, someone I served with on my first submarine, who is now an executive in the oil and gas industry. It was a long shot, but I tracked him down and explained the situation. He’s well-off and agreed to help.”
It was a lie, of course. Plecas couldn’t admit who had agreed to fund Natasha’s treatment, nor what was required in return.
Before Tatiana could ask additional questions about his friend, he added, “I must return to Gadzhiyevo tonight. We deploy in two days and we are scheduled for weapon onload tomorrow.”
He reached into his overcoat and retrieved an envelope with Tatiana’s name on it. Inside was a heartfelt letter to his wife, along with an explanation of what he had agreed to do in exchange for the money for Natasha’s drugs. At the bottom of the letter, he instructed Tatiana to take it to Northern Fleet Command as evidence that he, and not the Russian government, was to blame for the attack, an admission that would hopefully deter the United States from retribution.
“Open this a week before our wedding anniversary.”
The timing was odd, but the letter needed to be opened around the time his attack would occur. A week later would likely be too late.
When Tatiana gave him a curious look, Plecas explained, “There are arrangements you need to make, so that everything is perfect on our anniversary.”
Tatiana smiled, and after placing the envelope in her purse, she cradled his face in her hands. “You are a good man,” she said, and he could tell she regretted her harsh words a few days earlier. “You are a good father and a good husband.”
Plecas kissed Tatiana and pulled her close. He held her in his arms, contemplating what he was about to do. If he was fortunate enough to survive and see his wife and daughter again, it would be from behind prison bars.