Faith of Our Fathers

Located northwest of Moscow, a top secret safe house, the sole preserve of the 1st Deputy head of the GRU, was a perfect setting for Kozlov to impart trade secrets with Chief of Staff Umnov. The dacha was secluded from the road by a copse of trees and protected by a series of motion detectors. The retired GRU couple who lived in the dacha had left for a concert, and except for Kozlov's personal guards securing the perimeter, they had the premises to themselves.

The outward persona of Col. General Petr Fedorovich Kozlov was that of a soldier, a bemedaled officer who had served with the Afgantsy, the veterans of Afghanistan. Now, as head of the GRU Kozlov's true character was internalized within the secret games intelligence agencies play. The intellectual exercises required of his position suited him perfectly. Kozlov had the heart and mind of a spy. He loved the gamesmanship, the power of knowing.

'So, what have you got for me?' Umnov poured cream into his coffee, then added a touch of cognac.

'The results so far are excellent,' Kozlov answered. 'A Cuban intelligence officer met with Carlos Lopez Rodriguez who planned the kidnapping. Lopez gave him the names of the kidnappers, and where they are holding Victor.'

'That was quick work.' Umnov looked slyly at his intelligence head. 'I hope you didn't promise too much.'

'Lopez is serving a twenty-five year sentence in a Mexico City prison. The Cuban promised Lopez his freedom for the location where they are holding Lohr.'

'And what else,' Umnov asked.

'I instructed our rezident to sweeten the offer. The Cuban offered Lopez a valued position as a covert DGI agent in charge of operations directed against the Americans.'

'Really?'

'Once Lopez arrives in Havana, he will be delivered to us.'

Pointing to Kozlov, Umnov whispered, 'Very good, very good. No loose ends. I like that. Now, Petr Fedorovich what do we know?'

'The kidnapping was carried out by one of Lopez's Puerto Rican lieutenants and two American student revolutionaries who have been underground for twenty years.'

'Twenty years? Students?' Umnov's bushy eyebrows raised. 'How long do they go to school in America?'

Kozlov smiled. 'Forever, it seems. Some of these old revolutionaries have carried out armed actions since the Vietnam war, not content, I gather, for imperialism to fall of its own weight.'

Umnov glared at his chief of intelligence. 'That, Petr Fedorovich, isn't funny.'

Kozlov cursed his levity. The only thing lost to history was the Soviet Union, not imperialism. 'I'm sorry, Sergei Ivanovich, I didn't mean to make light of . . .'

Umnov waved his hand, 'Get on with it.'

'We have their backgrounds, although some of it is dated. One of them bothers me. He has a history of mental disorder and a streak of compulsive behavior.'

Umnov scowled. 'And how many revolutions do you believe were accomplished without compulsive behavior.'

'In this case,' Kozlov responded, 'there is more to it than compulsive behavior. The man will kill Lohr if he doesn't get his way.'

Umnov sat quietly, hands clasped over his belly, his face downturned, a study of contemplation. Kozlov regarded Umnov's personal style as perfect for the high position he held. He marveled how well the Chief of Staff kept his composure. It was not necessary for the GRU head to tell his commander what Lohr meant to them. Without Victor...?

'You said we know where Victor is being held,' Umnov said.

'Colonel Borodin is awaiting instructions.'

'Good man Borodin. You know, of course, his grandfather worked personally for Stalin?'

Kozlov nodded. Colonel Borodin's grandfather was a legend in the GRU.

'Borodin will meet with Lt. Savin today.'

'Savin? The same Savin who led the famous raid?'

'The same.' To be a member of the army's elite Spetsnaz forces was an accomplishment the chief of staff honored. That Umnov recalled Savin's bravery in Afghanistan said something about Sergei Ivanovich. He missed nothing of importance.

'How long has Savin been in America?' Umnov asked.

'Three years,' Kozlov replied.

'He's young is he not?'

'Sergei Ivanovich, we cannot overtly use our intelligence officers posted to the United Nations rezidentura in New York. They are watched by the FBI day and night so we have to use a deep cover man. Savin is the best illegal available.'

Kozlov motioned the coffee pot toward Umnov, and the chief of staff nodded. Lighting a cigarette, Kozlov continued. 'We can't afford a diplomatic incident, especially now with President Baylin in Washington.' Kozlov paused. 'This is a very difficult task. Without Col. Borodin's experience I doubt we could pull it off.'

This was no time to mealy mouth about the dangers, Kozlov told himself. 'I need your authorization, Sergei Ivanovich.'

'Petr Fedorovich, we have never been and we will never be border guards.' Umnov's eyes gripped Kozlov, charcoal orbs lit with an inner fire.

'Kill them.'