MARSKI HOTEL, HELSINKI, FINLAND
Caleb and Street sat side by side in armchairs in the hotel lobby. A raven made of resin holding a light in its beak sat on the table between them. Caleb was sure it was mocking them.
Well, this is awkward.
“Look, Caleb—” said Street.
“It’s none of my business,” replied Caleb.
“Maybe you should have considered that before punching me in the face.”
Valid point.
“It was an instinct, Street. I’m just looking out for her.”
“For her or for yourself? She’s not yours to protect, Copeland.”
“She’s on my team, I’m responsible for her.”
“Aye, in the field. But not in her private life. Whatever may have happened between us, go back to what you said a minute ago—it’s none of your business.”
The elevator door opened, and Alex stepped out wearing desert-colored khakis and a black golf shirt.
At least she read my email, he thought. She looked all business.
But though he was good at reading signals, he wasn’t always great at heeding advice—even his own. “Alex—” he began.
She cut him off. “Not a word,” she said. “Let’s go.”
In front of the hotel, two Range Rovers sat idling in the taxi lane, clearly annoying the taxi and Uber drivers standing on the curb smoking. Alex was out the door first, with the men sheepishly falling in behind. A woman whom Alex didn’t recognize was behind the wheel of the first SUV.
Without breaking stride, she climbed in. Once inside, she hit the power door locks. The men wisely took the hint. Caleb climbed into the second Range Rover and blocked Street from doing the same, leaving him standing on the sidewalk. Alex glanced into the sideview mirror and saw Street standing there alone, looking for all the world like a fourth grader who had missed his school bus.
“Let’s go,” Alex said to the woman.
Without saying a word, the driver pulled away from the curb.
PARLIAMENT HOUSE, HELSINKI
“Sorry about that back there,” Alex said, blowing at a loose strand of hair that she then secured into a ponytail.
“No need to apologize,” said the woman driving. “Did you at least get the mission briefing?”
“I know where, but I don’t know why.”
Clare introduced herself and gave Alex the mission-briefing highlights on the way over to Finland’s House of Parliament. The US Secret Service and a dozen other agencies would be onsite to secure the president and other dignitaries, the building, and today’s proceedings. Caleb’s team would be there ostensibly as an added element of security, but their primary function would be to respond quickly to any new and actionable intelligence that either the task force or the team’s leadership directly assigned. FBI special agent Clare Duffries, it seemed, had been drafted from the task force to Caleb’s operational team to assist with issues of jurisdiction.
“In the car behind us with Caleb is Rocky and Moose, our other two team members,” Clare explained.
“Rocky and Moose?”
“Don’t ask me, I don’t get all this nickname stuff, but they’re solid guys.”
The imposing structure of the country’s parliament building sat atop Arkadianmäki, a hill beside Mannerheimintie, the main thoroughfare through central Helsinki. From the outside, the stripped-down, classical architecture of the building lent it an air of understated power, like a muscular Acropolis adorned with flourishes of early twentieth-century modernism. The exterior walls were constructed from red granite that was more a pale salmon than a deep ocher, the façade lined by a row of fourteen five-story-tall columns.
Alex stared at it as they rounded the building and pulled into the underground parking garage.
“Something else, isn’t it?” Clare asked.
“Sure is,” answered Alex, who had quickly cooled down over the course of their four-minute drive. “My mind was elsewhere back there, but I’m back in the game now.”
“I’m sure those two are a handful.”
“You can say that again.”
The underground parking complex was a whitewashed labyrinth carved out of the bedrock. It was part of an underground network—essentially, a giant bomb shelter—built by the Finns to cope with being geographically situated next to what amounted to be the world’s most unruly and unpredictable neighbor; a neighbor with whom Finland enjoyed a fragile peace marked by compromise—cooperation that was necessary for the self-preservation of a nation.
A policeman directed Alex and Clare into a parking space where they unloaded Pelican cases from their vehicle. The men pulled in beside them and did the same, and together they wheeled the cases into an empty meeting room guarded by a uniformed police officer on the lower level of the building.
“This will be our temporary command post. Listen up, people,” Caleb began as the last of the cases were moved into the room. “We’re authorized for sidearms in the building and carbines if we’re on the perimeter or if we go mobile. POTUS is above us in the Session Hall, about to address the delegates.”
Alex strapped on her sidearm along with everyone else. They walked over to a bank of monitors where a small team of Secret Service agents were viewing the live feed and peered over their shoulders.
“Operations Center Actual is down the corridor,” one of them chirped.
“I’m aware, thanks,” Caleb said. “This feed only covers the main hall?”
“We have perimeter feeds as well. But, like I said, the main show is down the hall.”
Caleb stepped away. Clare, Rocky, Moose, and Alex followed.
“Are we going into the Session Hall?” asked Alex.
He nodded. “There’s a spot designated for us off to the side of the main dais. Alex, you’re with me. We’ll go to the primary location next to POTUS. Rocky, Clare, you take the main entry point. Moose, you’re here with keys in hand in case we need to go mobile. And you’ll be our lead on comms and liaise with the Secret Service’s Counter Assault Team. President Moore’s CAT team is out circulating within the building doing a final sweep.”
“Right, boss,” said Moose.
“Okay, team, comms up.”
PARLIAMENT HOUSE, HELSINKI
Alex, Caleb, Clare, and Rocky made their way through the marble State Hall to the Session Hall. The hall was not unlike the House chamber in the US Capitol. The large wooden dais at the front was where President Moore would stand to deliver his historic address. The NATO chiefs of defense and other representatives would be seated in the hall, watched over by a tight blanket of security operating under a unified command structure from the operations center one level below.
Clare and Rocky took their positions beside the entryway, hidden inside an alcove along the curved wall. As Alex and Caleb found their positions, the Secret Service Counter Assault Team leader approached.
“You’re Copeland?” asked the agent. Caleb nodded. “I know why you’re here. Frankly, politics is not my area of expertise.”
“Mine, either, Agent, but we’re not exactly here to cast ballots,” said Caleb. “It’s politics that could make this summit go sideways. So, like you, we’re here to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
The agent nodded. “If anything happens, keep your team out of our way so we can take care of POTUS and we’ll be good.”
He didn’t say it with malice. The agent was just laying down the hierarchy of response under the circumstances. President Moore’s code name was Longhorn, and his protective detail would secure Longhorn in the event of an incident. But if there was a direct assault on the president, it was the CAT team’s job to actively engage the threat. And that meant that, to a certain extent, they didn’t care who got caught up in the crossfire as long as their protectee escaped harm. POTUS was this team’s first and final objective.
Alex watched as the hall filled up. General Lucas Hughes and Secretary of State Katherine Hayward were seated in the front row. As Prime Minister Sanna Rantala led her gaggle of cabinet ministers up the center aisle, she spotted Alex and gave a friendly smile. Following their group came Finland’s president, Jarkko Ruusu, walking next to President Moore. The pair was led by NATO secretary general Lars Jensen. Together, the trio took their seats on the tall dais.
Caleb’s voice popped into Alex’s earpiece as he ran a final comms check with the members of the team. When all units had confirmed their status, he handed comms control back to Moose.
Secretary General Jensen stood and approached the mic, and the murmuring within the chamber subsided.
“Thank you,” he began. “As you know, this extraordinary summit was to have taken place at NATO headquarters in Brussels. But, following the developments of the past several weeks, it was decided that our NATO Alliance would be best served hosting it here, in Finland, one of our most recent admissions to the NATO family.” He turned toward President Ruusu and smiled. “On behalf of the Alliance, Mr. President, I wish to extend my profound gratitude to your country for accommodating this change of venue.”
Ruusu gently nodded, and the secretary general continued.
“NATO is first and foremost a political alliance. While we have repeatedly heard claims by certain nations that we are an offensive tool striving to hem them into their borders, this is not true. The Alliance strives to achieve security of all members by providing for a collective defense. And member countries always aim for peaceful resolutions—both here and at our sister organization, the United Nations—to any disputes. The use of military solutions is contrary to the objectives of the Alliance. Our aims can best be met by demonstrating a commonality of purpose and a steadfast resolve to resist aggression from other nation-states.
“It is perhaps superfluous to state that by avoiding war, we ensure a lasting peace. But if war cannot be avoided, then NATO member countries are resolved that no one country should stand alone. By coming together and by the lawful implementation of the terms of the Washington Treaty, a treaty originally signed and put into effect on the fourth of April, 1949, we, the members of NATO, solemnly swore to come to the aid of another member so threatened. This is the condition of Article 5, and it is nonnegotiable. An armed attack on one member of the Alliance is an attack against all members. The remaining members will take the actions the Alliance deems necessary to assist the ally who has been attacked.
“Article 5 has been invoked but once, after the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks on the United States. But insofar as our newest member, our friend and host for this summit, Finland, is facing a dire threat from a belligerent neighbor, NATO must and will respond.”
The chamber erupted in applause.
Alex had listened intently to the secretary general’s speech. His words hadn’t left much room for diplomatic compromise. In fact, none. Not that there should be any. But diplomacy is often built upon the shaky pedestal of fragile egos. Despite being aware that the inciting incidents leading the world to this decisive moment might not have been perpetrated by the belligerent neighbor, i.e., Russia, that didn’t seem to matter much to the gathered representatives.
Both sides of the burgeoning conflict were moving pieces on the board that were already in positions from which to strike out at one another over the slightest provocation or misinterpretation of intentions. And that was a recipe for catastrophe.
Large conflicts and world wars had started over lesser crises countless times throughout history. Once put into motion, egos often faltered under the momentum of their own pride and arrogance to pull back from the brink.
As Alex scanned the room, she noticed Emmi off to the side. The Supo agent had her eyes fixed on Prime Minister Rantala in the audience. And not far from Emmi, Alex caught sight of someone she had never expected to see in the chamber of Finland’s supreme legislature.
Although she had traded in her Barbie fleece for something befitting this grave moment in history, it was hard not to recognize Tatiana Burina even in a stylish fall overcoat.