Spy Thriller: An Involuntary Spy: An espionage thriller (Involuntary Spy Espionage Thriller Series Book 1) (18 page)

     St. Petersburg was about as cold as Khabarovsk, but its scenery was a festival for the senses.  Many have referred to it as the “Paris of Russia.”  It’s true that the architecture was uniquely European, but the streets were bigger, the buildings more massive, and the city was connected by a series of small canals.  At night the city glistened and glowed with lights, like a movie set made up for a night scene.  Seth and Natasha shared an apartment in the center of town.

     Once they settled in, Seth called the Assistant U.S. Attorney, Henry Meyers, from his Skype line.  Skype takes the position that they are not a telephone company.  Therefore, conversations are less likely to be tapped.  Also, when Seth called from his Skype number, the caller ID on the receiving end showed a number registered in the country of the person receiving the call.  His whereabouts were virtually untraceable from the call.

     “Mr. Meyers, this is Seth Rogan.”

     “Mr. Rogan, you’re a wanted man.  If you called to turn yourself in, I’m afraid you’ve called the wrong person.”

     “No, Mr. Meyers, I want to speak to you.  I intend to turn myself in, but only to the FBI, and only on condition that you honor the deal that I signed.”

     “That may be a little difficult, given the fact that you killed the two agents who brought you the deal.”

     “I didn’t kill anyone.”

     “Well, Mr. Rogan, I’m not the judge or jury here.  Can you at least tell me where you are?”

     “Not yet.”

     “Well then I guess we have nothing to talk about.”

     “Wait – are you still interested in the Congressional investigation of the FDA and the EPA?”

     “Yes, but…”

     “And I am your primary witness?”

     “Yes.”

     “Well then, I don’t see that you have much of a choice.”

     “A witness who killed two FBI agents does not make a very credible one, does he?”

     “No, but you know as well as I do that the charge is bullshit and that there is no evidence against me.  It was put there by the same people who don’t want me to testify.”

     “Mr. Rogan, assuming this is true, how do you intend to prove that?”

     “I thought I was presumed innocent until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt.”

     “Yes, that is true.”

     “And if there is no evidence against me, an indictment will not issue.”

     “Also true, but…”

     “Why don’t you convene a grand jury for my indictment?  When they fail to indict, I can surrender myself to the FBI and we can go through with the deal.”

     “Mr. Rogan, are you a scientist or an attorney?  What stops you from coming in now?”

     “If I am held or charged with being a terrorist, and turn myself in, do you think anyone will ever see me, let alone the Committee?”

     Seth knew that the bogus arrest warrant was there for only one reason – to capture him and prevent him from testifying at the Congressional hearings.

     “I see your point.  I’ll get back to you.”

     The days and nights spent with Natasha in St. Petersburg almost made Seth forget that precious time was passing and that this would all soon come to an end.  Russians lived each day as if it were their last, and this is how Seth chose to live this time.  Every minute, which turned into hours, which turned into days and then into nights, was special.  There was no ordinary full moon, no ordinary sunset; not then, and not ever again.

     It seemed like there were only two seasons in Russia – winter and summer – but, even though it was still cold, the signs of spring were creeping in.  You could feel it, even smell it in the air, and it was almost as if you could see the trees waking up from their long winter slumber.  Soon the ground, which was now a combination of mud and frost, would be carpeted with green, and new life would pop up everywhere.

     It was a long and welcome break from the house of horrors they had left behind in the Far East, but there was still work to be done.  Seth called Henry Meyers regularly to see if there was any news.  So far, there was no news, and nothing to do but wait.

     At first, they spent their time holed up in the little apartment, day after day, until it seemed safe to venture outside.  Natasha was the only one who left the apartment for supplies, and Seth worked on his memoirs while she was gone.  During this time, they became closer and closer.

     By summer, it was safe to venture out.  They spent their days anonymously, going to the theater, getting lost among the priceless works of art in the vast Hermitage Museum, and walking along the streets and canals in what became the perpetual twilight in this “abstract and intentional” city of Peter the Great and Pushkin.  Seth loved every moment and never wanted to leave St. Petersburg, but everything has an end.

***

     Just when it seemed as if it would never happen, one morning, Meyers called on their secure cell phone line.

     “Mr. Rogan, I think we are about ready,” he said.

     “What’s next?”

     “You will meet our man in Minsk – he has your agreement and instructions to get you safely to the U.S.  Your FSB liaison will be briefed on all the details.”

     Seth and Natasha’s days in St. Petersburg would officially come to an end the next day.

     Seth and Natasha boarded the train to Minsk at 7 p.m.  Seth was saddened to say good-bye to St. Petersburg, home already to many memories, and the only home that he and Natasha had known together.  By the next morning, they would arrive in Minsk, where they would meet with a member of the FBI who would have a new agreement for Seth to sign, and arrange for him to have safe passage to the United States, where he would be taken into the witness protection program.  Natasha, who already had a U.S. visa, would join him later.

     There was a lot of nothing between St. Petersburg and Belarus, and, thanks to the white nights, plenty of daylight to see it all.  Seth and Natasha relaxed in their private car, dining on picnic lunches that she had packed for them and sipping on tea, courtesy of the built-in samovar on board.  It was very warm in the still air during stops, but while the train was moving there was a nice breeze.

     There was nothing to do on the train except talk or play games.  Some of the other passengers had card games going or were watching DVDs.  Seth and Natasha knew that their time together was coming to an end, at least for a while, and the melancholy of that realization thickened the air.

     “Do you think you’ll stay in this profession?” he asked her.

     “I don’t know.  I don’t think it suits me.”

     “I thought it was usually something, like a calling, you know, something you knew you just had to do.”

     “I guess it is for most people, but for me, it was just an option proposed to me that I decided to accept.  I knew I would be in the field but I never thought I would have to use my weapon, let alone kill someone with it.”

     “Still, I’m glad they taught you how to use it.”

     They were to be met at the station by Natasha’s Belarussian FSB counterparts.  From there, Seth would be escorted to a meeting with the FBI contact for Henry Meyers.

     As night fell, they sat together on the bottom bunk and held each other.  It felt good, and they had no idea how long it would be before they had the chance to be this close again.

     “We should get some sleep,” said Natasha.

     “Too nervous to sleep.”

     “I know, but if you don’t you will lose your edge.  Tomorrow is a big day.”

     “You’re right.”

     Seth took the top bunk.  They were just big enough to barely fit one person.  He stared at the ceiling, trying to clear his brain of all thoughts.  Otherwise, sleep would be impossible.  The rhythm of the train rumbling through the countryside was soothing and finally rocked him to sleep.

     About 30 minutes before the train arrived to Minsk, the female purser knocked on their door to announce the impending arrival.  Seth and Natasha woke up and gathered their small suitcases.  Seth clung to his precious briefcase.  There was one copy of the report and the flash drive in it and a duplicate flash drive and report in the secret compartment of his jacket.  Natasha took out and put on her body armor, then strapped on her holster and checked the magazine for her gun.

     “What are you doing?” asked Seth.

     “Just getting ready,” she said.

     “I thought we were being met by Belarussian FSB.”

     “We are, but you always have to be ready for any contingency.  It’s a dangerous world, and this is a dangerous business.”

     He knew she was right, but he didn’t have to like it.  The thought of her facing danger again was excruciating.  He had to think of a way to prevent it.

     “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

     “Seth, it’s my job.”

     “You’re here because of me.  There has to be a way to keep you out of it.”

     “I won’t leave you.  We’re in this together.  If you’re facing danger, we face it together.”

     The train pulled into the station and stopped, and the passengers began to shuffle out.

     Natasha and Seth waited at the door to the train so she could survey the layout before them.

     “I don’t like this,” she said, looking out.

     “Why?”

     “There should be a group waiting for us.  Look out there – nobody.  And see those two guys on the roof of the station?  They could be just looking out for us, but it looks like a trap to me.”

     “What do we do?”

     “They’ll be expecting us to come out of the train and into the station.  We’ll just jump out the other side and walk back on the tracks.  Once we’re out of range, I’ll call this in and find out our next move should be.”

     They both slipped out the back exit, and walked to the end of the train, using it as cover.  When they had cleared the train, they continued down the tracks until they found a place to exit into the city.  There was a small café there that would be a good place to make the call.  Natasha flipped out her phone.

     “Belarussian authorities got a phony call, telling them the deal was off,” she said.  “We have to make our way to their headquarters.”

     Using the directions sent to her on her cell phone, Natasha and Seth hailed a jitney driver.

     The jitney driver was either too stupid or indifferent to drop them off in front of the building, instead opting for a spot across the street, leaving them exposed for the street crossing to the agency headquarters.  As they made their way to the corner to cross, a man in a brown trench coat stepped out in front of them.  By the time Seth noticed he was blocking their way, he also noticed that he had his gun pointed at Natasha, and she had hers pointed at him.

     “Mr. Rogan, if you want your pretty little girlfriend to live, come with me,” said the man.

     “Don’t do it,” said Natasha.

     “Don’t hurt her,” Seth said.

     There was no time to think his way out of this one.  If it was going to be either Natasha or him, it was going to be him.

     “I’ll come with you, but you have to let her go,” said Seth.

     The two guns still faced each other; the standoff was still on.

     “Seth, step behind me,” said Natasha, without taking her eye off the man in the trench coat.

     “No, I’ll turn myself in,” said Seth.  “But only if you put down your gun.”

     “Only if she puts down hers,” said the man.

     “Forget it,” said Natasha.

     “Here’s what I’m going to do,” said Seth.  “I will inch forward, one step at a time, until I am in between you and her, and then you can arrest me.  Okay?”

     “Okay, but make it slow.”

     “Seth, what are you doing?” asked a startled Natasha.

     “I’m going to let him take me.  At the same time, I want you to move to a position of safety,” said Seth.  “Once I am in front of him, you take cover.”

     Seth sidestepped, very slowly, inching toward the man, until he was standing in front of him, with the gun of the man less than two feet in front of his face.”

     “Run Natasha!”

     Natasha rolled to cover behind the alley wall, then stood up, training her gun on the agent, but there was no way to shoot without risking hitting Seth.

     Once Natasha was out of harm’s way, Seth quickly moved his head out of the way of the gun, while, at the same time, he grabbed the barrel and rotated it with his right hand, and struck the man’s wrist hard with his other hand.  Seth played out each step as he had rehearsed it with Yuri, and it all seemed to happen in slow motion.  He twisted the man’s trigger finger with the barrel and heard it snap as he screamed out in pain.  He kept pressure on the man’s injured finger, rotated, put all his power into pushing the man to the ground.  Then he pulled the gun away, and pinned the man’s good arm down with his foot and pointed the gun at his head.  Natasha was there, her gun trained on the man, and her free hand on her cell phone, calling for backup.