Polar Shift (NUMA Files 6)

He smiled. The Mafia may have done him a great favor.

22

Petrov was leaving his office in the drab Moscow government building when his secretary told him he had a telephone call. He was in a foul mood. He had been unable to extricate himself from a diplomatic party at the Norwegian embassy. Norway, for God's sake! Nothing but smoked fish to eat. He planned to get tanked up on vodka and disgrace himself. Maybe they wouldn't invite him back.

"Take a message," he had growled. As he was going out the door, he turned. "Who's on the line?"

"An American," his secretary said. "He says his name is John Doe."

Petrov looked dumbstruck. "You're sure?"

Petrov brushed by his astonished secretary and returned to his office, where he snatched the phone off the desk and stuck it to his ear. "Petrov here," he said.

"Hello, Ivan. I remember when you answered the phone yourself," said the voice on the other end of the line.

"And I remember when you were still named Kurt Austin," Petrov said. His snarl didn't match the gleam of amusement in his eyes.

"Touche, old pal. Still the same old, sharp-tongued KGB apparatchik. How are you, Ivan?"

"I'm fine. How long has it been since the Razov affair?"

"A couple of years, anyway. You said to call if I ever need a favor."

Austin and Petrov had worked together to torpedo the plans of Mikhail Razov, a Russian demagogue who was behind a plot to launch a tsunami against the East Coast by using volatile methane hydrate ocean deposits.

"You're lucky to catch me. I was on my way to a thrilling party at the Norwegian embassy. What can I do for you?"

"Zavala and I need to get to the New Siberian Islands as soon as possible."

"Siberia!" Petrov chuckled. "Stalin is dead, Austin. They don't send people to the Gulag anymore." He glanced around him. "Those who offend their superiors are given a promotion, a title and a large office decorated in atrocious taste, where they are bored to death."

"You've been a bad boy again, Ivan."

"The term doesn't translate into Russian. Suffice it to say that it's never wise to offend one's superior."

"Next time I talk to Putin, I'll put in a good word for you."

"I would appreciate it if you didn't. President Putin is the superior I offended. I exposed a close friend of his who had been embezzling money from an oil company that the government had taken over after arresting its owner. The usual Kremlin follies. I was removed from my intelligence position. I have too many friends in high places, so I couldn't be punished overtly, and instead was placed in this velvet cage. Why Siberia, if I may ask?"

"I can't go into details now. I can only tell you it's a matter of great urgency."

Petrov smiled. "When is it not urgent with you? When do you want to go?"

Austin had called Petrov after trying to trace Karla Janos at the University of Alaska. The department head he spoke to said Karla was on an expedition to the New Siberian Islands. Austin knew he had to act fast when the department head mentioned that this was the third time that week people had inquired about the Ivory Island expedition.

"Immediately," he told Petrov. "Sooner, if you can pull it off."

"You are in a hurry. I'll call the embassy in Washington and have a courier deliver the paperwork to you. There is a price for my help, though. You must allow me to buy you a drink, so we can talk over old times."

"You've got a deal."

"Will you need support once you get here?"

Austin thought about it. From past experience, he knew that Petrov's idea of support would be a tough, special ops team armed to the teeth and spoiling for a fight.

"Maybe later. This situation may require a more surgical touch at the outset."

"In that case, I will have my medical team ready in case you need surgery. I may join them myself."