Commander-In-Chief (34 page)

“The notion that energy only flows from East to West is outdated. Right now Western nations are supplying Ukraine, via Poland and Slovakia. The Nord Stream pipeline is up and running, and the Central Europeans are better off, because LNG going directly into Germany could be sent from Germany into Central Europe if Russia cuts them off again.

“At the height of the market Gazprom was worth three hundred sixty billion U.S. dollars. Now it is worth fifty billion. I will put it very simply. Gazprom’s business model is dead.

“Russia’s business model: using energy revenue to build the military, and using Europe’s need of energy as a way to threaten it . . .
this
model is also dead.”

Ryan took a sip of water before continuing. “So what is Volodin doing to reclaim his power? He has decided that if he can’t stay big, then he must make his adversary small. He is trying to drive a wedge between the United States and Europe, and to emasculate NATO by ripping away Lithuania, showing the weakness in the organization. He wants to turn NATO into nothing more than a piece of paper. If he accomplishes this he will give himself the strongest military power in Europe, and he will do it without a protracted war.

“Russia can’t win a protracted war, but it can harass, it can block, and it can terrorize. I ask you all to look around at the state of the world today. This is exactly what Russia is doing.

“President Volodin knows that many Western European nations take the stance that dialogue is preferable to confrontation. They
talk in circles while they look at the chessboard, but they do not move any pieces. But the Baltic States are allies of America and NATO partners. If they are attacked and we do nothing, our friends will know the NATO they once respected has become an empty promise.

“Deterrence only works if Volodin believes the West will act. Right now he doesn’t believe that, so there is really no limit to what he might try to achieve. We, as an alliance, need to show the Russians our collective resolve.”

Ryan looked around the room slowly, taking his time. “How do we do that? What’s the solution to the crisis? Step one, recognize and come to terms with the fact Russia’s actions of the past year have changed European security forever, and we will not return to where we were before. The realization that a new normal is upon us is crucial if we are to take the bold steps necessary.

“Step two, more economic sanctions against the Russian elite. Thousands of Russia’s most prominent do their shopping in the West, their banking in the West, they send their children to school in the West. Increasing sanctions on the privileged and powerful would be easy for us and relatively harmless
to
us, but devastating for the decision makers in Russia.

“Step three . . . We call on NATO to immediately deploy the Rapid Deployable Corps into Poland. A decision in the next days could put substantial forces into the area within a week, and within a month the risk of an invasion from Russia would be greatly reduced.

“Step four, ladies and gentlemen, is the most urgent and most important of all. We call on NATO to
immediately
deploy the Very High Readiness Joint Task Force to Lithuania, positioning them on both the Kaliningrad and Belarusan borders. The VHRJTF could be moving within twenty-four hours, and they could be in position in seventy-two. While this force is no match for any real Russian
attack, it could serve as a tripwire, and may cause President Valeri Volodin to pause, to reflect on the consequences of an attack. It would show him NATO was willing to fight for Lithuania.

“I am talking about a temporary NATO presence in Lithuania and Poland, not a permanent NATO base. As soon as the current crisis comes to an end, we will move to withdraw the rapid response units from Poland and Lithuania.

“I am under no illusions here. I fully expect Russia to react negatively to these proposals. They
will
respond to this move by us, and we will
not
like their response. But it is my fervent belief that the actions they are making now are a result of our inaction in the past, and we cannot let this continue.”

Ryan paused again and looked around the room. “Volodin does not have a better military, a better economy, or better ideas than the West. To date, Volodin has had an advantage over the free nations of the West in one valuable commodity.” Ryan held up his finger. “Just one.” After a pause for effect, he said, “Simply put, he has will. President Volodin has the will that we do not. And he has this in excess.”

Ryan said, “There is an impression in the West, even now after all that has taken place, that the existing security order in Europe is stable. There are rules by which nations live, and those rules ensure peace. And since peace is in everyone’s best interests, why would this ever change?

“Ladies and gentlemen, Russia is rewriting the rulebook right in front of us. They are not waiting for tomorrow. We should not, either.”

Jack Ryan sat down. The room was quiet after his speech, but these were never raucous affairs, so he hadn’t expected anyone to throw confetti.

After the meeting was adjourned, Ryan spoke privately for a few
minutes with President Eglė Banytė and assured her he’d do everything in his power to support Lithuania. She thanked him, expressed her belief that the motion would be approved, and headed for the airport.

Ryan appreciated her positivity and her staunchly brave face.

But he wasn’t nearly so sure.

T
erry Walker had sent his staff home today as soon as they arrived for work at eight a.m. He told them his new clients required a higher level of discretion, so he would attend to them alone. He paid his two locals in advance for three weeks, wished them a pleasant vacation, and watched them gleefully collect their things and shoot out the door. One woman actually cried with joy.

After Walker’s staff left, Kozlov and two of his men from Steel Securitas arrived and set up shop in the tiny lobby of the office. They carried pistols and they allowed the grips of their guns to show under their suit coats as they moved around near Walker, upping the intimidation factor and reducing the chance the young Australian might think about some sort of a double cross.

Walker spent the first hour of the morning looking over notes Limonov had prepared about how he wanted the exchange to be made. The transactions would be done in $8 million increments. As they needed to convert a daily total of $266 million from cash in various worldwide accounts into Bitcoin via the BlackHole hopper,
and then sell the Bitcoin for U.S. dollars which Limonov would deposit into a new set of accounts, the two men had to make thirty-three separate transactions throughout the day.

At ten a.m., Limonov and Walker sat down next to each other in front of the terminal on the desk in Walker’s office, and they conducted their first trade of the morning. Walker did this sort of thing all day, every day; even the individual amounts of the trades weren’t out of the ordinary to him. The only major differences between today and any other day were the sheer number of trades he’d have to make for the same client, the armed men looming over him, and the fact that Kate and Noah were somewhere themselves under guard.

His hands shook through the entire first transaction. When he stepped away from the desk so Limonov could put in his account information to deposit the new, fully washed U.S. dollars, Walker put his hands against the wall to steady his legs, and he had to fight a wave of nausea.

Soon enough, Limonov called up from the desk with a big smile. “That’s it, Walker. One down. Nine hundred ninety-nine to go.” The Russian seemed positively beside himself with satisfaction.

Walker said, “Yeah, but only thirty-two more today.”

The process had been initiated, and soon fell into a repetitive rhythm. By initiating a new transaction every twelve minutes, the two men could transfer the planned $266 million worth of trades in a day. Each complete transaction took only three to five minutes from start to finish, so Walker spent the rest of the time staring at the wall while Limonov spoke with Kozlov in the other room.

After they finished the seventh trade of the day, Walker looked up and saw it was just after eleven. He stood to stretch his legs and announced, “I’m going to the toilet.”

Kozlov heard him from where he sat on the sofa in the lobby of the little office. As Walker passed him by, heading for the door, the Kremlin operative looked to the security man from Canada. In English he said, “You go with him. Search it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Walker and his armed guard walked down a short hallway and nodded to a local attorney who passed them on his way out of his office for the stairs, and then they came to the second-floor restroom. The Canadian opened the door and saw it was just a simple space with two urinals and two stalls along with a sink and a garbage can. There were no windows, but he quickly opened the stalls, found them empty, and then looked to Walker.

“You going to be long?”

“Heaps longer if you stand there looking at me, mate.”

The big man gave Walker an annoyed look, turned around, and stepped out the door. “I’m in the hall.”

Walker did his business and returned to the office with his guard following behind him.

•   •   •

A
t one p.m. a Steel Securitas man with a German accent entered the office and brought paper plates of rice and sausage for Limonov and Walker, bought from a corner restaurant, along with bottles of soda from the machine in the lobby of the office building. The two men continued to make the trades, even while they ate. Walker wasn’t in the mood to eat, but Limonov finished quickly and asked the armed security man to go out and grab coffee.

By now Walker had relaxed enough to stop shaking, and he found himself spending much of the time between the trades dispassionately answering Limonov’s constant questions about the
technological aspects of BlackHole and the Bitcoin markets in general. The Russian seemed fascinated by it all, and genuinely impressed by the incredible intelligence of Terry Walker.

Walker, on the other hand, just wanted this Russian in his office to shut up and get on with it.

At four p.m. Walker again announced that he needed to use the toilet. The same Canadian security man escorted him down, opened the bathroom door, and looked inside. This time, both stalls were wide open and visible from the doorway, so the man just waved Walker in while he remained in the hall.

Walker entered the restroom, and as the door closed behind him he heard a click. He turned to find a man with gray hair locking the door.

The older man turned back to Walker. Softly he said, “Don’t make a sound, Terry. I’m here to help.”

•   •   •

J
ohn Clark looked carefully at Walker, gauging the man’s reaction. If he was going to call out to his guard he would likely do it in the first few seconds, so Clark knew he had to be ready to launch forward the five feet that separated them to stifle the man’s shouts. But Walker just stood there, a look of confusion on his face, along with incredibly bloodshot eyes, obviously from the fatigue and stress of the past day.

To Clark’s relief, Walker replied in a whisper. “Who are you?”

Clark said, “We know the Russians have your family.”

Walker’s whisper was delivered now almost as a shout. “Yeah, and they will kill them if they think I am talking to Americans! Get the fuck out of here before Popov finds you!”

“He won’t know I’m here. You need to trust me.”

“You are FBI?”

“No.”

“CIA?”

“Look, Mr. Walker,” Clark said. “We are experts at doing this sort of thing, all while remaining in the shadows. We know you are converting assets into Bitcoin for someone in the Kremlin. We also know you are doing it to protect your family.”

Walker cocked his head. “The Kremlin?”

“Yes.”

“You mean, like Volodin? The fucking psycho who runs Russia?”

“I was hoping you could tell us.”

Walker rubbed his eyes. “I knew it was a rich Russian, obviously. I just figured it was some sort of Mafia boss.”

“After a fashion,” Clark said.

“Popov, the tough one, acts like a gangster.”

“That would be Kozlov. He works for the Kremlin. Ex-FSB. A very bad man.”

Walker sat down on the toilet slowly. “And the other one? The finance guy?”

“Andrei Limonov. He’s moving money for a high-ranking Kremlin suit. We don’t know who, but it could be Volodin himself. How much money is involved?”

Walker put his head in his hands. “Eight billion. Dollars.”

Clark just said, “Wow.”

Walker said, “Popov will kill them. Noah and Kate. He will really do it, won’t he? If I don’t give him what he wants he’ll kill my wife and kid.”

Clark moved into the other stall and closed the door. Sat down on the next toilet, ready to lift his legs if the guard returned. He said, “I’m not going to lie to you, Terry. Even if you do exactly what they say, these aren’t the type to just say thanks at the end. They are not going to let you or your family go. You just know too much.”

Clark could hear Walker sobbing softly. “What the fuck am I gonna do?”

“You are going to let us find Kate and Noah and get them away from the Russians, and then you are going to help us.”

After an audible sob Walker asked, “Can you really do it?”

“We can and we will. You keep doing what you are doing. Raise no alarm. But we also need you to help us find your family. Have you gotten any information about where they are being kept?”

“Somewhere here in the islands, within fifteen miles or so. On a boat. That’s all I know.”

“How do you know they are on a boat?”

Walker explained the clues Kate and Noah had given him.

Clark said, “She normally gets seasick?”

“Yeah. Violently ill. Don’t know what’s different about this boat.” Walker said, “I’ve got to get back out there. Look, you can’t tell anyone else. The CIA, the FBI. They’ll just come down here and make noise.”

Clark said, “I agree with you there. How much longer till you are finished moving the money?”

“I don’t know. Depends on what the markets do. If trading volume goes up, we’ll increase daily transactions.”

“What’s your best estimate?”

“We’ll probably be finished in two weeks.”

Clark regarded this information. “Can you stall them while we look for your family?”

“That’s impossible. Ivanov . . . you called him Limonov . . . he doesn’t know Bitcoin that well, but he is a bloody expert on finance. He really knows his shit. He’s watching me all the time, he sees everything I do. Asks me about anything he doesn’t understand. There is nothing I can do to change this process that he won’t see.”

Clark said, “Okay. Don’t try anything. We’ll get your family back, and then you can help us catch these guys.”

Instead of gratitude, Terry Walker said, “You guys better be fucking
certain
of your plan. You get my family killed and I’ll give the Russians whatever the fuck they want. You understand me?”

Clark just said, “Go.”

Walker flushed his toilet, then stepped out to the sink and turned on the water. While looking at himself in the mirror he said, “I can’t fucking handle this.”

Clark opened the door to the stall he had been in. “You can, Terry. You
have
to. Kate and Noah are depending on you.” And then, “You’ve got to get back out there.”

Walker nodded distractedly. “I really did need to go to the toilet.” And he stepped out through the door.

•   •   •

T
erry Walker returned to his office suite moments later, followed by the Canadian security man. Limonov barely looked up as he entered the office, but Kozlov followed him from the reception area.

Standing in the doorway, Kozlov barked, “What took you so long?”

“I was in the loo. You figure it out.”

The Russian stepped forward quickly and grabbed the small Australian by the back of his neck. He squeezed tightly. “What were you doing?”

“Do I have to fucking spell it out for you?”

Kozlov turned to the Canadian. “Were you with him in the toilet?”

“No, but I searched it, and I stayed just outside.”

Kozlov pointed to their prisoner. “Search him. Search every
inch of his body.” He turned away, stormed out into the hall toward the bathroom. As he moved he drew his gun and held it down by his leg.

The security men pushed Terry Walker against the wall roughly, unsure what the problem was, but unquestioning in their compliance to their client. As men lifted Walker’s shirt and yanked down his pants, he looked toward the door to the hallway, terrified Kozlov would find the American in the bathroom. His stomach clenched and he wondered if he would pass out from the terror.

Walker turned to Limonov. The Russian was typing an e-mail on his notebook computer, barely paying attention. The Australian said, “Your friend is completely mental, you must know that.”

Limonov did not look up from his work. “He’s not my friend, but otherwise you are correct.”

Kozlov opened the door to the office again, looked to the two men who were finishing stripping Walker down. He had holstered his weapon. “Anything?”

“He’s clean, boss.”

As Walker put his clothes back on, Kozlov pointed to the security officer who’d escorted Walker to the bathroom. “From now on you stand with him in the bathroom at all times. Is that clear?”

The Canadian contractor said, “Whatever you say, sir.”

Kozlov went back into the little lobby of the office and sat down on the sofa.

Limonov called out to Walker, “Time for another trade, Terry.”

•   •   •

I
t had taken Clark almost an hour to defeat security cameras and pick locks in the building early this morning, and he wouldn’t have been able to manage it without Gavin Biery’s help from Alexandria. And now that he was finished with his meeting, he
would have to wait hours more, till the end of the business day, before he could get out of here.

He knelt in the back of a janitor’s closet, just twenty-five feet from the bathroom and deeper in the building. He’d brought with him two bottles of water and a Snickers bar, not really expecting to spend the entire day inside the building, but wanting to be lightly equipped if he had to. But Gavin had texted him not long after he arrived, letting him know that two security guards had shown up in the front lobby, and he could find no escape route visible on the hacked CCTV that looked clear.

Even this wouldn’t have been a problem if this office building received clients like most every other office building in the world. But Gavin had been reporting throughout the day that this was the deadest commercial space he’d ever watched during its hours of operation. Other than the people who worked there, virtually no one had come or gone.