The Man from Leningrad Page 6

  “I’m not sure about that last one,” Pritchett said, shaking his head. “He can be like a dog with a bone sometimes.”

  “So, what do you want to do?”

  “I want you to coordinate an extraction with some of our agents in Finland.”

  Dex furrowed his brow.“Finland? Why not Logan or one of the other agents in Leningrad?”

  “There’s too much at stake right now. Besides, our people in Russia are always just a breath away from either being arrested or shot. My latest report was that there was an increase in activity among the number of KGB agents on the street, which coincides with our reports that the Soviets are prepping for an attack against the U.S.”

  Dex stood and pushed his chair away from the table.“I can handle that for you, but you know Maddux isn’t going to like this.”

  “Of course he won’t, but it’s for his own good,” Pritchett said. “Just make sure those agents know Maddux has a mind of his own and is prone to embarking on ill-advised missions. Maybe even underscore that point with one of your own personal stories.”

  A half-hearted chuckle escaped from Dex’s mouth before he responded.“I don’t know if they’ll even want to go after him if I tell them what it’s like to be on a mission with him.”

  Pritchett shrugged.“As much as he is his own man, he still gets the results we’re after. And I can promise you that nobody at Langley is complaining about that.”

  “Consider this done,” Dex said.

  Chapter X

  Leningrad, Russia

  WITH MADDUX’S BUSINESS concluded with Protek, he was scheduled to leave on a flight the following afternoon. The extra time was built in just in case he needed to extend one of his meetings or attend to another CIA request. However, Maddux wasn’t ready to leave just yet—he still needed to search Zhirkov’s apartment one last time. For the past few days, Maddux had worked hard to gather the scant amount of intelligence that he possessed. He wasn’t about to let it all go to waste, especially considering what was at stake.

  Maddux donned a fedora and a heavy winter coat before striking out from his hotel. After meandering along for a few minutes, Maddux hailed a cab and asked to be let out a block from Zhirkov’s apartment. During the short time Maddux had spent in Leningrad, he became adept at spotting KGB agents milling around as if they were random people on the street. And the city had been teeming with these spies.

  After paying the cab driver, Maddux scanned the area. He noted the stark difference in the number of agents surrounding the hotel and the ones in this part of town. In the immediate area, he only noted one, a guy sitting across the street on a bench beside a bus stop, reading a paper while smoking a pipe. Maddux figured the man may have only been an informant if that.

  Maddux took a deep breath and put his head down. Only one intersection stood between him and Zhirkov’s apartment. Glancing in both directions before entering the crosswalk, Maddux strode toward the other side. However, before he reached the door, two men leaped out of the shadows and accosted him. They dragged Maddux into an alley.

  Maddux wasn’t ready to yield without a fight. He struggled for a few seconds in an attempt to break free from the duo’s grip. Upon realizing that it wasn’t going to happen, he relaxed—for a second—and the men with him. That was all the time Maddux needed to spin free. He stomped his right heel hard on the ground, revealing the two blades Rose had hidden inside the sole. He ran toward them and performed a roundhouse kick nearly nicking one of them in the face. When Maddux landed, he reset his feet and prepared for a brawl.

  “Did OTS give you those shoes?” one of the men asked in English. “I’d be interested in getting me a pair if they did.”

  Maddux scowled, confused about the allegiance of his abductors.

  “Who are you?” Maddux asked.

  “Keep your pants on, pal,” the other agent said. “We’re here to get you out of Leningrad.”

  “I’ve got a flight out in the morning. I don’t need anyone to help me get out of the country.”

  “Our assignment suggests otherwise,” the first agent said as he offered his hand. “Chuck Polson. And this is Bart Whitman. We’re special agents stationed in Helsinki. Dex told us to send you his regards.”

  Maddux closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.“Dex—I should’ve known.”

  “Apparently the KGB suspects you might be a CIA agent. And it’s possible you could be arrested for that very soon if they’re able to corroborate it, such as breaking into a suspected traitor’s apartment to gather files proving their suspicions. From what I understand, Logan already had to dispose of one suspicious agent, so they’re hot on your trail. But if you leave tonight without incident, you can avoid getting on their hit list. They may just chalk it up to strange coincidence and move on.”

  “That’s a nice sentiment, but this isn’t something I’m willing to just turn my back on and walk away from. His sister told me that he keeps duplicate files of almost everything important. And I know where it is.”

  Whitman ignited a cigarette and blew a long stream of smoke into the air before responding.“This isn’t about you,” he said, tapping Maddux on his chest for emphasis. “The agency not only cares about you and whether or not you’re arrested, but they’re also concerned with the bigger picture. How will this stoke the embers of a volatile situation that seems to be heating up daily? Is Moscow going to just see our infiltration as a bumbling espionage escapade? Or are the people in power going to see this as a direct assault on their sovereignty? Those are the questions the CIA—and all of Washington, quite frankly—would rather not have to answer right now. Am I getting through to you now?”

  Maddux stared at Whitman.“I could be in and out of that apartment in less than five minutes.”

  Both Whitman and Polson shook their heads.

  “Do you see any KGB agents milling around?” Maddux continued.

  “You’ll never see them,” Polson said. “Those men and women live in the shadows.”

  “But I saw—”

  “You didn’t see what you thought you saw,” Whitman said. “You probably thought you saw people who looked like agents, but they were most likely just lookouts. The real spies live in the shadows. You never actually see them until it’s too late.”

  “And, yes, I’ve seen at least one lookout,” Polson added. “Whether you can see them or not, I promise you the KGB is here.”

  Maddux grew tired of the banter and made a mad dash toward the alley’s back exit. He only managed to take three strides before a large hand grabbed him by the collar and pulled him toward the two CIA operatives.

  “Don’t make this harder than is has to be,” Whitman said after jerking Maddux backward.

  “Come on, Whitman,” Maddux said as he gestured toward the bank of windows perched above the fire escape on the wall facing the alley.

  “This isn’t a debate,” Polson said.

  “It’s right there. I’ll be back before you ever knew I was gone.”

  “No,” Whitman growled. “You’re coming with us.”

  Maddux relented, giving up his physical protest, but he didn’t stop talking about it the entire time they drove toward the final ferry of the evening scheduled to leave Leningrad for Helsinki.

  “If this goes down like every one is worried it will, how will you live with yourselves?” Maddux asked from the backseat. “Every time you turn on the television and see a family of one of the people who was killed by this impending attack, you’re going to think back to this night and ask yourself a painful question: Why didn’t I just let Ed Maddux dash into Zhirkov’s apartment and retrieve those plans that would’ve helped us put an end to all this? And you’ll ask that question over and over until the day you get thrown into a casket and have dirt shoveled on top of it.”

  Polson looked at Whitman and shook his head.

  “Pritchett was right about this guy—most definitely a dog with a bone.”

  Maddux sneered at the suggestion that he was too stubborn f
or his own good. While Pritchett may have made the cute little remark to Polson, the truth remained that this needless extraction was costing the agency dearly. And there was nothing Maddux could do about it.

  Chapter XI

  Gulf of Finland

  THE HORN BELLOWED as the ferry chugged away from the dock. Maddux eyed his two colleagues, who felt more like captors at the moment. They had all the necessary documents to escape Russia’s iron curtain without even raising an eyebrow with the customs agent. Maddux wondered how they could pull off such an operation on such short notice. All he could figure was that Finnish businessmen weren’t viewed as even remotely threatening to the Russians since the two nations enjoyed a healthy trade relationship.

  They remained in the car for a few minutes until they were several hundred yards away from the shore.

  “I’m going up to the top deck for a smoke,” Whitman said. “Anyone want to join me?”

  Polson shook his head.“I’m tired from the ride earlier today. I’m just going to rest in here.”

  “Maddux?”

  Maddux shrugged.“I don’t know. I’m thinking Polson has the right idea.”

  Whitman waved a pack of cigarettes in his left hand.“I brought Lucky Strikes just for you,” he said. “I heard about how much you like them—and how much you hate Marlboros.”

  “Mild as May,” Maddux said, repeating the cigarette’s former marketing slogan.

  “What do you say? Come keep me company at least.”

  Maddux pondered the proposition for a moment before agreeing.“As long as you’re downwind from me smoking those dreadful Marlboros, I’ll go.”

  “Deal,” Whitman said before opening his car door and climbing out.

  Maddux followed him through the maze of vehicles crammed into the deck of the ferry. Whitman forged a zigzag course to the stairs with Maddux following close behind.

  Once they reached the top, Whitman settled on an open area along the aft side of the ship to smoke. Maddux positioned himself upwind to avoid the smell.

  “Sure you don’t want one?” Whitman asked, tapping his coat pocket.

  “You’re rather persistent,” Maddux said. “If it’ll make you shut up about it, I’ll take one.”

  Whitman smiled and slapped the bag into Maddux’s hand. After he sufficiently packed the cigarette, he put one to his lips and nodded at Whitman, who held out his lighter. Maddux turned his back to the wind and took a long drag as he watched the tobacco glow.

  After a few moments of silence, Maddux faced Whitman directly.

  “You ever get tired of this life?” Maddux asked.

  “What? Working for the agency?” Whitman responded.

  Maddux nodded.

  Whitman blew more smoke skyward.“It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. It’s my dream job.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  Whitman sighed and shrugged.“I don’t know how to answer it. So far, I still enjoy this. Doing what we do, helping keep this dangerous world safe, securing freedom for my loved ones and even those I despise—it’s a special gig, that’s for sure.”

  “But do you ever stop and think about the consequences of everything we do?”

  “What do you mean?” Whitman asked.

  “I mean, do you ever wonder if we’re doing more good than harm sometimes? Do you wonder if we’re really the good guys in all of this?”

  Whitman flicked his cigarette butt into the water and pulled out another smoke.“Did you see how those people live in Russia? I mean, really pay attention to their lives? That’s what it’s like to live under an oppressive regime. It’s frightening how hollow those people’s lives are. It’s almost as if the Russians have stolen the soul from their own nation.”

  “I noticed that. The bland residential buildings, the blank looks on the faces of everyone in the street, the drab modern architecture. Anything that looked creative or festive was built in another time, long before the Communist party assumed control of the country.”

  “It was a different time, that’s for sure. But that’s why we fight, isn’t it?”

  “So we don’t turn out like them?”

  “Exactly. If Russia were to ever invade the U.S., we’d be a soulless nation as well, wanderers in the desert, exiles bemoaning the loss of a great nation.”

  Maddux smiled.“You are quite the patriot, Whitman. That’s a stirring speech right there.”

  “It’s not really my own. It’s the one given to me by my recruiter when I was considering whether or not to join the agency.”

  “It obviously influenced your decision.”

  Whitman nodded.“I probably would’ve joined anyway, but not quite so enthusiastically.”

  “We do have a great country, don’t we?” Maddux said.

  “The best.”

  “Well, I hate to interrupt this great conversation, but I need to find out if this ship has a toilet or not.”

  Whitman pointed toward the back of the deck with his cigarette firmly tucked between his middle and forefinger.“Just head that way and go down the steps. After the first flight, you’ll see it right there.”

  “Thanks,” Maddux said.

  “Oh, and Maddux?” Whitman said.

  “Yes?”

  “I admire your tenacity, dog with a bone and all.”

  Maddux forced a smile.“Thanks.”

  He spun and headed toward the stairs.

  You might not admire it so much in a few minutes.

  Maddux descended to the lower deck and looked down at the water churning out of the back of the ship. Otherwise, the water seemed relatively calm. He glanced at the dock that was shrinking by the second. He guessed it couldn’t have been more than half a mile away given the slow speed they were moving. The water would be cold, but he couldn’t worry about the repercussions of swimming in a frigid gulf with everything that was hanging in the balance.

  He took a deep breath and then propelled himself into the water using the side railing. Plunging down a few feet, he quickly resurfaced, motivated by the near-freezing temperature to speed toward the shore. Even as an experienced swimmer, he had never attempted any long distance in water this cold. He would’ve dismissed such a venture as foolish. And he couldn’t disagree with that sentiment now either, but he was willing to overlook it for a worthy quest.

  Upon finally arriving on the beach, he collapsed. At twenty minutes, the swim took longer than he’d estimated. A fisherman who was warming himself by a fire on the shore rushed over to Maddux to see if he was all right. Maddux staggered to his feet and accepted the man’s invitation to join him. He helped Maddux strip out of his clothes before wrapping him in a blanket.

  “This isn’t the time of year you want to be taking a dip in the gulf,” the man said.

  “I wish someone would’ve told me earlier,” Maddux quipped.

  The man laughed and then offered Maddux some vodka. But Maddux waved him off.

  “Come on,” the man said. “This will warm up your insides.”

  Maddux shook his head again.“I appreciate the offer, but I need to stay sharp.”

  Maddux sat in silence for the next few minutes before deciding that his clothes were dry enough to put back on. He thanked the man before hustling toward the street where he wandered along for a few minutes until he found a cab. After a short trip back to his hotel, Maddux warmed up in his room before changing clothes and then heading back to Zhirkov’s apartment.

  As Maddux moved in the shadows, he contemplated why Pritchett would have ordered the extraction. Maddux also clearly understood the implications of such a decision: a sudden disappearance would surely end his ability to move freely throughout Europe as an employee of Opel. He needed to exit on his passport to avoid the branding of a spy that would surely follow such action. Maddux believed burning his cover was a shortsighted move and was confident he could convince the KGB he was no threat.

  As the apartment came into view, Maddux noted that the same KGB lookout was still at his post, attempt
ing to appear like a disinterested bystander. Maddux turned around the side of the block and approached the apartment from the alley. He waited in the dark near the door for someone to exit. After fifteen minutes, a woman eased outside, checking over her shoulder as she did. Whatever she was doing, she didn’t want anyone to see her. Maddux stepped out of the shadows, startling her. She shrieked before covering her own mouth with her hands. He grabbed the door before it latched shut.

  “I’m sorry,” Maddux said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She shook her head vigorously.“You never saw me,” she said. “I was never here.”

  Then she darted down the alley.

  Maddux shrugged before he entered the building. Ascending the steps to Zhirkov’s fifth-floor apartment, Maddux could feel his heart pounding. He didn’t know how much time he had or if it would be enough. All he knew was that he needed to get inside and thoroughly search Zhirkov’s desk.

  Maddux picked the lock and entered quietly. Even though it was late, he was pleased he accomplished this feat without drawing out a single nosy neighbor. Given the circumstances, he wasn’t sure how he would handle any witnesses.

  Locking the door behind him, Maddux glided across the floor toward the study where Zhirkov’s desk was located. Prying open the large file drawer, Maddux emptied it, piling all the papers on the floor. Then he felt around for the false bottom Darya mentioned. After a brief search, he located a small ridge and wedged his finger inside. With a swift yank, he pulled the board up, revealing a treasure trove of documents.

  Maddux illuminated the papers with a small lamp that he moved onto the floor, studying them underneath the desk to prevent anyone on the street from seeing any light. He sifted through the documents to make sure they were all pertinent. The first few looked like important family documents, including a relative’s last will and testament. But Maddux’s eyes widened when he finally came across what he’d been searching for.