Division findings directly into his computer under the Directorate of Operations seal, heavily edited the material, added his own conclusions and included full color graphs, charts and maps, along with photographs of Yeltsin and his staff, Prime Minister Kabatov and his staff, Russia’s key generals, and a selection of the few photographs they had of Tarankov. Ryan’s second principle of insulation, was when a report was requested throw as much material into it as possible, then double that amount. The government, he was fond of saying, likes to see something impressive for the trillions it spends.
General Roland Murphy (retired) had been director of the Central Intelligence Agency for an unprecedented ten and a half years because he was very good, he had no party affiliation, and each president he’d served under found him to be indispensable, whatever his politics.
He and Ryan went back a number of years together. The general knew the family very well, and he’d hired Ryan away from the law firm to act as general counsel for the CIA, a job which Ryan had loved.
During his tenure, Ryan had developed an appreciation for, and a real expertise in, the hardball politics of liaison between the Agency and the Hill, an ability Murphy lacked. When the previous DDO had been killed eighteen months ago, and Ryan wounded in the same operation, Murphy had rewarded his friend with the directorate.
Murphy quickly scanned the report, which ran to nearly eighty pages, as Ryan poured a cup of coffee, and went to the big corner windows. The sky was gray, but all the snow was gone and spring was not far away. Ryan was indifferent.
“Very professional, as usual, Howard,” Murphy said after a few minutes.
“Thank you, General,” Ryan said, turning back.
“This’ll impress the hell out of them, but the President likes straight answers. He doesn’t want to be caught flat-footed like he was over the Japanese thing.”
Ryan’s jaw tightened, and he reflexively touched his face where he’d been shot by a former East German Stasi hit man. By all rights he should have been killed. But for the grace of God he would have been, and he carried the scar not only of his wound, but of the memory of the man who had put him in harm’s way.
“I understand, Mr. Director,” Ryan said. “I’ve included a summary on the last two pages which should make it clear.”
“You can tell him that yourself. He pushed the briefing forward to nine-thirty, which doesn’t give me time to wade through this.”
“I’d be happy to brief the President,” Ryan said, genuinely pleased. One of the keys to acquiring power, he’d always told himself, was to surround yourself with power. Another was knowing how to handle yourself when the time came.
The President’s appointments secretary, Dale Nichols, showed them into the Oval Office at precisely 9:30. Ryan had answered tough questions nonstop on the way over from Langley in the DQ’s limousine; as a result he felt much better prepared than he had a half-hour ago. The general might not have been a politician, but he was as astute as he was expedient.
President Lindsay, a tall, Lincolnesque figure, was seated in his rocking chair across from his National Security Adviser, Harold Secor, Secretary of State Jonathan Carter and Secretary of Defense Paul Landry. Two extra chairs had been pulled up around the broad coffee table.
“Good morning, Roland,” the President said. “I’d say from the cut of your jib that the news is less than good.”
“Good morning, Mr. President. There’ve been better days,” Murphy responded. “I think you know Howard Ryan, my Deputy Director of Operations.”
“Good to see you, Ryan,” the President said.
“It’s good to be here, Mr. President,” Ryan replied evenly.
No introductions were needed with Secor, Carter or Landry. They knew Ryan well from briefings before various committees and subcommittees on the Hill.
“Howard’s more in touch with the nuts and bolts of the situation than I am, so I brought him along to conduct the briefing,” Murphy said.
“Fine.”
Ryan handed the President the leather folder. “The last two pages summarize what we know, but I can go over the high points with you, Mr. President.”
The President motioned for him to take a seat, and he flipped through the bulky report. He didn’t bother with the summary at the back. When he was finished he looked up. “I’ll read this later.” He handed the report to Secor. “In the meantime we have a problem for which I’m going to need some hard information. Prime Minister Kabatov telephoned me this morning, and asked for my help. He means to arrest Yevgenni Tarankov for murder and for destruction of one of their nuclear power plants. He’s asked for my backing, and that of NATO to forestall what might develop into a military coup d’etat. I promised that I would get back to him this morning.”
“He wants us to use our satellites to help track Tarankov’s train,” Secor said.
“Mr. President, may I ask what the Prime Minister said to you about President Yeltsin’s death?” Ryan asked. He was on dangerous ground here. Ever since the debacle with the Japanese the President had become a tough bastard. He treated failure harshly.
“I assume you’ll make a point,” the President said.
“Yes, sir.”
“The funeral has been postponed until next week. He hoped I’d understand, but they have their hands full over there at the moment.”
“Mr. President, are you saying that Prime Minister Kabatov continues to maintain that President Yeltsin died of a heart attack induced by the car bomb in Red Square?”
“That’s exactly what he’s saying,” the President said. “Do you know something different?”
“President Yeltsin was in the limousine that blew up. He was assassinated under Yevgenni Tarankov’s orders because Yeltsin had ordered his ‘arrest in response to the destruction of the Riga Nuclear Power plant.”
“I wouldn’t be a bit surprised,” Secretary of Defense Landry said. “Does the bastard really think he can take over by force?”
“It’s a possibility that we’re monitoring very closely, Mr. Secretary,” Ryan said.
President Lindsay ran a hand over his forehead. “What a mess. They’re in over their heads, and they’re finally beginning to realize the sad facts of life.” He glanced at Murphy, then brought his attention back to Ryan. “How reliable is this information?” “Unfortunately there were no eyewitnesses, Mr. President. But my people managed to come up with samples of blood and human tissue from the square, minutes after the explosion. A laboratory was set up, and they did in two days what would normally take three or four weeks to do. They came up with an accurate DNA analysis of the blood, and a mass spectrographic study of the tissues. The blood was Yeltsin’s, there’s no doubt about that. And imbedded in the human tissues we found conclusive evidence of Semtex, which is a powerful plastic explosive. The data are on pages seventeen through twenty-one. We’re estimating that the bomb weighed around six kilos, and was placed inside the’ cabin of President Yeltsin’s limousine — probably beneath the rear seat. The limo’s external armor plating would have effectively contained the primary force of the explosion inside the cabin, tripling its effectiveness. It was radio controlled. Most likely the assassin was in Red Square within sight of the presidential motorcade. He pushed the button and escaped in the confusion.”
Murphy gave Ryan an odd look, but Ryan shrugged it off. He was in his element now.
“Tarankov may try to take the government by force before the June elections, Mr. President,” Ryan continued. “He has the support of much of the military, as well as at least half the officers in the Russian missile force. If he is successful it’s likely he’ll reprogram what missiles remain back to their old targets — cities in the United States. He’ll almost certainly have no trouble finding the money to do so.”
“That sounds a little far fetched, Howard,” Secretary of State Carter said.
“I’d like to agree, Mr. Secretary, but the facts seem to indicate otherwise,” Ryan replied heavily.
“What’s the CIA recommending?” the President asked.
Murphy started to reply, but Ryan beat him to the punch.
“First, we need to proceed with caution, Mr. President. Meddling in Russia’s internal affairs right now will be dangerous, considering our considerable dollar investment over there.”
“Now, that I agree with,” Carter said.
“We cannot ignore the situation,” the President said.
