The 14th Colony (Cotton Malone 11)

“You get my point?”

“Yes, ma’am. I got it.”

“I didn’t tell you this earlier,” she said. “But when you took that fighter into a dive and let Zorin get away, there was a lot of chatter on the radio about what to do. Our pilots wanted to eject both you and me.”

“And what stopped them?”

“An order from the ground. They were told to deliver us and not let on that what happened even bothered them.”

“So that faction within the government was already in control.”

“It would seem so. They knew exactly where this Kelly man lived. And once they realized where Zorin was headed, they went straight there, too.”

And now they knew, thanks to Stephanie and her newfound friend Ishmael, that the goal had been to kill Zorin, then take Kelly alive so he could lead them to the cache.

“Just because they failed in Canada,” he said, “doesn’t mean they won’t be here.”

“I’m betting they know about a cache around here somewhere, maybe even more than one. They might even know the properties where they’re located, but they don’t know exactly where on those properties. A lot of time has gone by since those places were deemed useful. Not to mention any booby traps.”

“So you’re thinking they may have locations staked out?”

“It’s a reasonable assumption.”

He agreed.

Which meant they needed to stay on their toes.

“Taking out the inauguration of a new president,” she said. “That borders on insane. Not even hard-liners would be that stupid. The U.S. would annihilate them. The smart play is they want this contained, kept to themselves, and those bombs held by them for the future.”

Ahead, he saw the McDonald’s he’d been directed to and pulled into the parking lot. Inside, two Secret Service agents, dressed like men about to head out on a winter’s hunt, nursed steaming cups of coffee.

“The car stopped a few minutes ago,” one of the agents said. “About ten miles from here.”

“Are we it?” Malone asked.

“As you requested. Just the four of us.”

The last thing he wanted was for every intelligence and law enforcement agency within a hundred miles converging here, spooking Zorin, each one intent on taking the credit for stopping the threat.

This was not about accolades.

It was about results.

“We’ve been tailing them since Pennsylvania,” the agent said. “They made one stop, at a Target in Maryland. We sent agents in after they were long gone. From the security footage and register records we know they bought a shovel, sledgehammer, two flashlights, bolt cutters, a hasp lock, and five heavy-duty six-volt batteries.”

An interesting list, the last item grabbing his attention. Edwin Davis had briefed them on the RA-115s. They needed battery power to be portable. Zorin was certainly coming prepared.

“We have a chopper on standby at Dulles. It can be here fast,” one of the agents told him.

“Keep it there, for now. It won’t be much help in this weather.”

“You two going to handle this all by yourself?” the agent asked, sounding skeptical.

“That’s the plan. We’ll keep it simple. We need them to lead us to whatever there is to find, then we’ll take them both down. Preferably, alive, as we have lots of questions.”

“What exactly are we looking for?”

The fewer who knew anything the better, especially considering the widespread panic information like this might cause. Foreign nukes on American soil? Talk about a bad news day.

So he ignored the question.

“Tell me where Zorin is.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

Zorin sat in the parked car, listening to the patter of sleet against the roof. With the rain earlier he wondered about ice, as some had already sheeted on the windshield, the wipers scraping hard over its rough surface. He needed to stretch his legs from the ride, but was waiting for Kelly to make some decisions. Ever since they’d arrived, Kelly had been studying a map that he’d brought inside his travel bag. He liked this scenario. No high-tech gadgets. No electronics. Nothing to lead anyone to where there were. Just proven tradecraft, the kind he’d made a reputation performing.

“What are we waiting for?” he asked.

“You’re becoming impatient in your old age.”

“The weather is deteriorating.”

“Which is to our advantage.” Kelly folded the map. “When Backward Pawn told me the weapons had arrived, I wasn’t fully prepared. I told the officer I was, but I wasn’t. The parameters Andropov laid out were tough to meet. My orders were to be ready in time for the 1985 presidential inauguration. But Andropov died a year before that. After, everything went quiet. Then, three years later, in 1988, the call suddenly came that the bombs were in America. I was shocked that things were still moving forward. I had to hustle to have my part ready.”

“Maybe things would have been different, if Andropov had lived.”

Kelly shook his head. “That was not the time.”

He wondered about the observation. “Why do you say that?”

“The response from the world would have been unanimous and devastating. Killing an American president? Setting off a nuclear explosion in Washington, DC? Soviet leaders far overestimated both their power and their importance. They could not have defeated the entire world.”

He hated hearing about more weakness.

“History has confirmed that, Aleksandr. By the late 1980s the USSR was over. It was simply a matter of time before everything collapsed. Then in 1991 it finally did.”

And he saw

the other difference between then and now. “This time it’s just you and me. There will be no retaliation since there is no one to retaliate against. We will achieve the effect of what Andropov wanted, but without global repercussions.”

“Exactly. The timing is perfect. Like you, I’ve thought about this for a long time, never acting on it, just thinking. The United States emerged from the Cold War as the dominant world power, and over the past thirty years it’s grown into an arrogant monster. We will finally put it in its place. Do you remember the oath we took as KGB?”

Vaguely. Such a long time ago.

Kelly found his wallet. From inside, he slipped out a folded scrap of paper, whose creases and color showed that he’d carried it a long time.

In the din of the cabin light Zorin silently read the printed words.

Of being a Soviet citizen and joining the ranks of the Workers’ and Peasants’ Red Army, pledging to be an honest, brave, disciplined, and vigilant fighter, to guard all secrets and obey all orders.

Then, the important part.

To be prepared to come to the defense of the motherland and defend her courageously, skillfully, creditably, and honorably, without sparing life or blood to achieve victory.

And the final sentence.

If through evil intent I break this solemn oath, then let the stern punishment of the Soviet law and the universal hatred and contempt of the working people fall upon me.

His comrade offered a hand to shake, which he gladly accepted. Pride swelled inside him as that sense of duty, of purpose, thought lost, returned. He’d long known fear and isolation, both of which had worn him down, leaving only a blind desire for some kind of action.

Like Kelly.