Colchev smiled and pressed the button on the handheld device. The isolated detonator went off with a bang, and his men cheered in unison. Neither of the sounds were loud enough to draw undue attention in this industrial district of town.
He congratulated each man with a traditional Russian bear hug, finishing on a hearty backslapping embrace with Zotkin. Gurevich unclipped the temporary wires inside the trailer and began inserting detonators into the bricks of C-4, which would be buried in the ANFO barrels.
Colchev stood quietly and admired the work of his team. In less than a week, his sacrifice would be rewarded and his reputation restored. After July twenty-fifth, he would return to his country a hero for devastating their greatest enemy, the United States of America.
THIRTEEN
Nadia Bedova stood patiently as the bodyguard frisked her. With a touch that was quick and efficient, he showed he was a pro by not lingering on her breasts or rear. She had come unarmed to the Sydney office tower knowing that she’d never be allowed to enter with her weapon.
Satisfied that she was clean, the guard led her down the hall to the penthouse suite of Mulvey Gardner Trading. Andrew Hull, the company’s owner, had established the innocent-sounding firm to provide a front for his arms deals; it was one of the biggest such organizations on the Pacific Rim. Bedova had used his services herself many times. If Colchev were conducting some kind of operation in Australia, Hull would have information about it.
Inside the corner office was a portly man in his forties who strode over to her with an outstretched hand. As he got closer, she could see evidence of the Australian’s recently implanted hair plugs.
“Ms. Bedova,” he said with a smile. “It’s always a pleasure to see you.”
“Mr. Hull.” She shook his hand and sat.
“May I offer you a drink?”
“No, I don’t have time.”
“Ah, business only. Unfortunate. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“You’ve spoken to Vladimir Colchev recently.”
Hull didn’t look away, but his smile faltered ever so slightly.
“I’m afraid I can’t discuss my business with other customers.”
“Even if that business was conducted with money stolen from Russian coffers?”
“It’s no matter to me where the money comes from,” Hull said. “Surely you can see that having to worry about the source of the funds would be bad for business.”
“I need to know what you got for Colchev.”
Hull laughed. “There’s nothing to tell. Besides, even if there were, I wouldn’t stay in business very long if my clients felt that their trust in me could be violated so easily.”
“Your business will be even more short-lived if my superiors feel that you are dealing with our rogue agents behind our backs.”
The smile vanished. “My understanding was that Mr. Colchev resigned and is now operating independently.”
“Oh, he’s operating independently. With funds he stole from the SVR. How much business do you conduct with Russian arms suppliers?”
Hull remained silent at the rhetorical question. She already knew that more than half his income came from supplying Russian arms to rebel groups across Asia. If her country were to turn off the spigot, he would be hammered by other dealers vying to take his place.
“What are you offering?” Hull said.
“Besides your continued good standing with the Russian state? If the lead you give me results in the capture or death of Colchev, you will be paid five hundred thousand Australian dollars.”
Hull shook his head. “If you fail and Colchev finds out I led you to him, he’ll come after me. That would also be bad for business.”
In addition to the phalanx of guards she’d come through, Bedova could see that the penthouse was clad in glass thick enough to withstand an RPG blast.
“All right. I’m authorized to make an
“Plus a bonus? Double, say?”
Bedova paused, then nodded. “That should pay for your security for quite a while.”
“Hmmm. One million dollars. You must want him badly. Why?”
“His departure didn’t go well, and he had a high-level clearance. If one of your key employees suddenly left and took your greatest secrets to a competitor, what would you be willing to pay to stop him?”
“I see your point.” He pursed his lips in thought, then said, “All right. I agree to your terms. But I require the deposit before I tell you what I know.”
Bedova nodded confidently. She made a call and had the $500,000 wired to Hull’s account. In reality she was authorized to pay only a total of half a million dollars. She’d figure out what to do about the bonus payment later. When he was satisfied with its completion, he turned from his computer.
“Now tell me what you know,” Bedova said.
“Three weeks ago, Colchev came to me with an urgent request. He’d had difficulty securing some materials he needed.”
“What materials?”
“ANFO. Detonators. Primer cord.”
“How much of the ANFO did he buy?”
“Forty tons of it.”
Bedova eyes widened. “Did he say what he planned to do with it?”
Hull laughed again. “No, and I didn’t ask.”
“If he’s plotting a terrorist attack, weren’t you afraid of it being traced back to you?”
“That’s a risk we always take in this line of work, but my involvement was merely as a facilitator. I simply paired him with a seller, a treasurer at a mining company in the Northern Territory who had a surplus that he was trying to get rid of.”
“Where is the attack taking place?”
“That I don’t know.”
“Where did he tell you to have the ANFO shipped?”
“To a warehouse in Alice Springs.” He gave her the address. “The last shipment arrived yesterday morning.”
“So the attack could happen at any time?”
“I suppose so.” He paused. Bedova could see he was trying to decide whether to tell her something else. “It’s obviously in my best interests for you to succeed.”
“You know more?” she asked.
“Colchev may be gone when you arrive.”
“If we miss him in Alice Springs, we may lose him for good, so you better share what you know.”
“I don’t think his ultimate objective is in Alice Springs.”
“Why?”
“Because he asked me to put him in touch with someone in the Baja cartel.”
Now Bedova was even more confused about Colchev’s intentions. “The Mexican drug gang?”
Hull nodded. “And before you ask why, I don’t know.”
Bedova had her suspicions why. If Colchev needed something smuggled into the US, no one had a better system than drug runners.
She leaned forward in her chair. “Did he mention Wisconsin Ave?”
“No.”
This wasn’t making sense. Why would Colchev need Icarus for any of this?
