“I hear you’ve got something for us,” Grant said to Elena as he and Maclean entered her office.
Elena smiled. “Take a seat, you two, and I’ll fill you in on what I’ve been able to learn to date.”
Both men grabbed a chair and sat down. Grant chuckled when he saw Maclean sitting upright, like a schoolboy who’d been called to the principal’s office.
Elena turned her laptop so the two men could see the screen. On it was a grainy, black-and-white photo of Joseph Stalin meeting some men in uniform. A man standing in the back was circled. “This, gentlemen, is the only known photo of Ivan Nazarov in existence. My contact in Moscow found it in the Kremlin archives. Unfortunately, many of the newspapers and government files from that era didn’t survive the war.”
Grant squinted. “It’s really hard to make him out. Have you asked the photo analyst folks to clean this up for you?”
Elena canted her head. “David Grant, I’m not a fool. Of course, I have. They said I should have a better picture of him by 1500 hours today.”
Maclean jabbed Grant in the ribs and whispered, “Way to go.”
“I heard that, James,” said Elena. “For once, you two are going to behave yourselves while I talk.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Grant.
Maclean raised his right hand. “Scout’s honor.”
“I have a feeling they would have kicked you out,” said Elena. She shook her head, opened a notepad, and skimmed her notes before looking up. “My contact in Moscow was unable to provide me with any information on Ivan Nazarov, other than he was a scientist on the NKVD’s payroll and was last seen alive sometime around the fall of 1942.”
“Could he have died during a Nazi air raid on Moscow?” asked Grant. “His body could easily have gone unnoticed among the debris.”
“Perhaps. I’m afraid we may never really know what happened to him.”
“What about Thunderbolt?” asked Maclean. “Did your friend provide you with any further information on the Soviet experiments?”
“During our discussions, not wanting to tip our hand to her on what we knew, I referred to Thunderbolt as a Soviet Military UFO research team,” replied Elena.
“And?”
Elena’s eyes lit up. “She corrected me, and said it was no such thing. In fact, she confirmed that it was a secret NKVD operation in the Ural Mountains that had nothing to do with UFOs. She also said that according to her files it was closed down in the summer of 1944, and all of its files were incinerated.”
“Did she say why?” queried Grant.
“No. All she could find was what I’ve told you. I’m sorry that there isn’t much information for us to go on.”
“Don’t worry about it. Before this morning, we never had a picture of Ivan Nazarov, and now we have that.”
The phone on Elena’s desk rang. She reached over and picked it up. “Yes, sir, they’re here with me,” said Elena into the receiver. “Of course, we’ll all come down to your office right away.”
Grant saw a flash of concern in Elena’s eyes. “What’s up?” he asked.
“Colonel Andrews wants to see the three of us in his office,” she replied, hanging up the phone. “His voice sounded serious.”
“I wonder what’s up.”
“A new op?” posed Maclean.
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” replied Grant.
The door to Andrews’ office was open. Grant stopped at the entrance to the room and came to attention.
“There’s no need for that today,” said Andrews. “Please come in and close the door behind you.”
Right away, Grant heard sadness in Andrews’ voice. Whatever he had to tell them was definitely bad news.
They took their seats and waited for Andrews to speak.
“There’s no easy way to say what I’m about to, so I’ll get straight to the point. Folks, I received a call five minutes ago from our embassy in Moscow. Jeremy Hayes is dead.”
“God, no,” said Elena, bringing a hand to her mouth.
Grant felt as if he had just been punched in the stomach. “What happened, sir?”
“It’s early in the investigation, but it would appear that the helicopter he was traveling in crash-landed an hour into its flight,” explained Andrews. “Regrettably, there were no survivors. The main culprit is thought to be mechanical failure.”
Maclean sat rigid in his chair, staring straight ahead.
Elena wiped the tears from her eyes. “Colonel, did they say when they will be shipping Jeremy home?”
“That’s the problem,” said Andrews. “All of the remains have been declared unidentifiable. From what I was told, the helicopter slammed into the side of a mountain and exploded, incinerating the remains.”
“This is horrible news,” said Grant. “Has his family in the UK been informed?”
Andrews nodded.
“This is bull crap!” blurted out Maclean. “I don’t believe the Russians are telling us the truth. It’s all too damn neat and tidy for me. I want to see the body.”
“Sergeant, I know you’re upset,” said Andrews, trying to calm Maclean. “We all are, but we’ve got to trust our people in the embassy when they tell us Professor Hayes is dead.”
Maclean swore under his breath, bolted from his chair, and stormed out of the room.
“Sir, before you say anything, I’ll deal with Jim,” said Grant. “I know he won’t admit it, but I think he respected Professor Hayes more than we know, and this has struck him hard.”
“I know you’ll do your best,” replied Andrews. “If more information comes in, I’ll let you know, but until then, I’d like you to get our second team up to scratch, in case I need to deploy a full team into the field.”
Although it wasn’t said outright, Grant knew Andrews had just grounded his team. Grant forced himself to remain calm and show no outward signs of emotion. “Yes, sir, I’ll see to that right away.”
“I’ll have Colonel Mason make the arrangements for a memorial service to be held sometime later in the week. Until then, I think it best if we all kept busy, and focus not on the dead, but on one another.”
Grant nodded. “Will do.”
“Thanks for your understanding, Major.”
Grant and Elena stood to leave. “Sir?” said Grant.
“Yes.”
“I’m with Jim on this. Something about Jeremy’s death stinks to high heaven.”
“Major, I don’t like what’s happened any more than you do, but death is always a risk in our business, and Jeremy knew that. Now, please help get the other team operational.”
Grant stood to attention, pivoted on his right heel, and marched smartly out of Andrews’ office.
Elena cleared her throat. “Oliver, you of all people should know that these men aren’t co-workers from some factory, they’re more like brothers to one another. It’s going to take something more substantial than some Russian police report to convince them that Jeremy is dead.”
Andrews sat back in his chair and let out a deep sigh. “I hear what you’re saying, but there’s nothing any of us can do until the Russians finish their investigation.”
“I don’t think waiting is in their vocabulary. If there is something more to this than meets the eye, promise me that you’ll give them the opportunity to investigate.”
“Elena, unless this falls within our mandate given to us by the Secretary of Defense, there is nothing we can do.”
Elena raised an eyebrow. “Not officially.”
Andrews shook his head. “I fear you’re getting more like them every day.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, Oliver.” Elena smiled and left the office.