“Yes, quite possibly.”
Pitt turned to Stenseth. “Well, Captain, I guess our next destination has been determined, once we obtain our walking papers from Balchik.”
Stenseth gave an affirming nod. “Burgas it is.”
19
The grim faces that greeted Martin Hendriks foretold bad news.
“I wasn’t expecting a visit,” Valentin Mankedo said, “but it is good of you to come on short notice.” He ushered the Dutch industrialist and Vasko into the office of his marine salvage yard thirty miles north of Burgas.
“I was traveling when I received your text and decided a personal visit might be in order,” Hendriks said. “Your message was a bit cryptic, but it seemed to indicate the worst. Tell me what happened.”
“We have lost the highly enriched uranium,” Mankedo said.
Hendriks said nothing, but his ruddy face flushed.
“Europol and the Bulgarian police took an interest in the Crimean Star accident, working off an American research ship in the area,” Mankedo said. “I believe they had suspicions about her cargo, which may have been leaked by your Ukrainian supplier.”
“It is unrealistic to expect fidelity when you are dealing with thieves.” Hendriks shook his head. “I understood that you initially recovered the uranium?”
“We did. But the American ship came across our recovery operation shortly before its conclusion. Ilya was able to retrieve the HEU and left the site, but they realized we had recovered it.” He felt no need to mention Vasko attacking the Macedonia’s submersible.
“So how did they acquire it?”
Mankedo nodded at his cousin to take the rap.
“The American ship followed us,” Vasko said, “but we lost them near the Bosphorus. We sailed to Burgas, where we were awaiting instructions on the rendezvous with the Iranians. As we were preparing to leave port, we were boarded by a law enforcement team. We killed two of them, and I lost three of my men. In the engagement, the HEU was spirited off the ship.”
“I see. Not only did you lose the HEU, you potentially exposed us all.”
An icy silence filled the air. “All has not been compromised,” Mankedo said. “Our dead were anonymous contract workers from Ukraine, and the Besso escaped custody.”
“The authorities surely know her name and appearance. They will find her and track her to you.”
“I am making arrangements to remedy that . . . and hope to move the vessel out of the Black Sea shortly. I am confident in our safety, and in your secrecy. There will be less attention in fact since they recovered the stolen HEU.”
Hendriks leaned back in his chair and stared at the ground. “I recently had a meeting with Colonel Markovich in Kiev. He has indicated that the Russians are amplifying their presence in eastern Ukraine, while Europe and the United States watch idly. The national Army is demoralized and in disarray. The only effective counterforce has been Colonel Markovich’s band of irregulars.”
He turned his gaze to Mankedo. “As you know, I have contributed to their cause. In the process, I have paid you considerable sums to smuggle weapons and supplies to Markovich’s forces. They are facing a critical turning point. The Iranian missiles would have permitted a strike back at Crimea in a bold fashion that would have raised the cost of Russia’s intervention.” He scowled. “That opportunity is now lost.”
“Is there no way to acquire the missiles in another manner?” Mankedo asked.
“They are not for sale. The HEU was the only barter the Iranians would consider. Believe me, I pursued all avenues.”
“The operation was not without its risks,” Mankedo said. “It was in fact carried out exactly to plan. We couldn’t have foreseen the intrusion by the Americans nor the apparent foreknowledge of Europol, which I am convinced originated in Ukraine.”
Hendriks nodded and receded into his thoughts. His right hand unconsciously dipped into his coat pocket and his fingers located the reassuring shard of metal. “It is important that we act,” he said in halting words. His eyes regained their sharpness and he gazed out the office door. “I noticed you have in the compound a large number of crates marked ‘munitions.’”
“They are mostly ancient mines and artillery shells we recovered a few months ago.” Mankedo shook his head. “They came from a Russian World War II munitions ship that sank near Sochi. The brass shell casings have salvage value, when commodity prices are at the proper level.”
“How much do you have?”
“About twenty tons,” Vasko said.
“Do they still retain their explosive capability?”
“They are still quite dangerous,” Mankedo said. “The shells, in particular, show only light corrosion, due to the depth of the shipwreck. But they are of little use as weapons, considering their age and caliber.”