unlike you, he had the misfortune of falling into the hands of a spetsnaz officer who dealt with him rather harshly. We also have the labels from the English tea bags you served the British spy. Very clever. I imagine you passed information inside them, then cleared the table so no one would ever notice the missing labels. There were fibers from one of the labels in his wallet. We wouldn't have found you if not for that. Do you deny any of this?'
Volko said nothing. He wasn't feeling especially brave, but all he had left was his self-respect. He wasn't about to lose it.
Pogodin was standing right beside Volko, looking down at him. 'Commendable. Most people in your position screech like birds. Perhaps you don't know of our reputation for obtaining information?'
'I know,' Volko said.
Pogodin regarded him for a moment. He looked as though he was trying to decide whether Volko was brave or stupid. 'Would you care for a cigarette?'
The waiter shook his head.
'Would you care to save your life and repay some of the debt you owe to your country?'
Volko looked up at his youthful captor.
'I see that you would,' Pogodin said. He used his cigarette to point to the men behind him. 'Shall I send them away so we can talk?'
Volko thought for a moment, then nodded.
Pogodin told them to go and they shut the door behind them as they left. The young man walked around Volko to the table and perched on the edge.
'You were expecting somewhat different treatment, weren't you?' Pogodin asked.
'When?' Volko said. 'Today, or when I returned from Afghanistan with a broken back and a pension that wouldn't support a dog?'
'Ah, bitterness,' Pogodin said. 'A greater motivator than anger because it doesn't pass. So you betrayed Russia because your pension was too small?'
'No,' Volko said. 'Because I felt betrayed. I was in pain every moment I worked, every time I stood.'
Pogodin poked his chest with a thumb. 'And I'm in pain each day I think of my grandfather being crushed by a tank in Stalingrad, or my two elder brothers killed by snipers in Afghanistan— and men like you betraying what they died for because you felt uncomfortable. Is that all the affection you can muster for Russia?'
Volko looked straight ahead. 'A man has to eat, and in order to eat he must work. I would have been fired from the hotel if the Englishman hadn't insisted they keep me. He spent a great deal of money there.'
Pogodin shook his head. 'I should tell my superiors at the Ministry of Security that you are unapologetic and would sell your country again for a price.'
'That wasn't what I wanted,' Volko said. 'It never was, and it isn't now.'
'No,' said Pogodin, drawing on his cigarette, 'because now your friends are dead and you're facing death.' He leaned toward the waiter, blowing smoke from both nostrils. 'Here's how it can be different, Andrei Volko. Why were you heading to St. Petersburg?'
'To meet someone. I didn't know that he was already dead.'
Pogodin slapped the waiter hard across the cheek. 'You weren't going to meet the Englishman or the Russian. You wouldn't have been told who the latter was, and besides— they were already dead and DI6 knew it. When the spetsnaz officer tried to use their concealed telephones, the lines were inactive. He was too impatient. You have an ID to enter first, correct?'
Volko remained silent.
'Of course, correct,' Pogodin said. 'So you were headed to St. Petersburg to meet someone else. Who?'
Volko continued to stare ahead, his terror supplanted by shame. He knew what was coming, what Pogodin had in mind, and he knew he would have a terrible choice to make.
'I don't know,' Volko said. 'I was—'
'Go on.'
Volko took a long, tremulous breath. 'I was to go there, contact London, and await further instructions.'
'Were they going to try and get you into Finland?' Pogodin asked.
'That— was my impression,' Volko said.
Pogodin smoked while he thought, then rose and looked down at the waiter. 'I'll be frank, Andrei. The only way you can save yourself is to help us learn more about the British operation. Are you willing to go to St. Petersburg as planned and work with us instead of with the enemy?'
'Willing?' Volko said. 'In a relationship that began with a gun at my neck?'
Pogodin said coldly, 'And it will end with one there if you don't cooperate.'
Volko looked into the tester of smoke hanging under the lights. He tried to tell himself that he would be acting patriotically, but he knew that wasn't the case. He was just afraid.
'Yes,' Volko said sullenly. 'I'll go to St. Petersburg' — he looked into Pogodin's eyes— 'willingly.'
Pogodin glanced at his wristwatch. 'There's a cabin reserved for us. It won't even be necessary to hold the train.' He looked at Volko and smiled now. 'I'm going with you, of course. And though I don't carry a gun, I trust you'll still be willing to cooperate.'
There was menace in his tone, and Volko was still too shaken to answer. He didn't want other people to die on his account, but he also knew that everyone who played in this field knew the risks? himself included.
As his captor led him from the interrogation room back to the car, he told himself that he had two choices. One was to accept Pogodin's terms and earn himself a quick death. The other was to fight back and try to regain the honor he had somehow lost
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The fat, heavy Ilyushin Il-76T was a high-performance Russian transport just over 165 feet long with a wingspan of over 165 feet. First introduced in prototype in 1971, and first flown in service with the Soviet Air Force in 1974, it could take off from short, unpaved airstrips, making it ideal for environments like those found in Siberia. It was also modified as a flight-refueling tanker for Russian supersonic strategic bombers. Il-76Ts had been sold to Iraq, Czechoslovakia, and Poland. Powered by four mighty Soloviev D-30KP turbofans, the jet had a normal cruising speed of nearly five hundred miles an hour and a range of over four thousand miles. The Il-76T could transport forty tons of cargo. If it were flying nearly empty, and if relatively lightweight rubber fuel bladders were installed in the cargo bay with extra fuel, the range could be increased by over seventy percent.
After contacting the Pentagon and explaining that Striker needed a ride into Russia, Bob Herbert was put in touch with General David 'Divebomb' Perel in Berlin, who had the husky jet hauled from secret storage. It had been kept at the U.S. air base there since 1976, when it had been bought by the Shah of Iran and then clandestinely sold to the U.S. After studying the aircraft, the Air Force had gutted it for use as a spy plane. To date, the Il-76T had been used in only a handful of missions, measuring exact distances between landmarks to help calibrate spy satellites and taking radar and heat readings of underground installations to get a picture of their layout. On all of these flights, it had managed to fool the Russians as to its legitimacy by filing a flight plan through a mole in the Air Force. The mole was informed, by radio, to do it again for this flight.
This was the first time the Il-76T was going to be used to carry American troops, and the first time it would spend this much time over Russian airspace— eight hours, as it flew from Helsinki to the drop-off point and then on to Japan. In the past, it was never in the air long enough to be spotted, discovered to be unregistered, and investigated.
Both Herbert and Perel were keenly aware of the danger the crew and the Striker team faced, and both of them expressed their deep reservations to Mike Rodgers in a conference call.
Rodgers shared their concerns and asked for alternative suggestions. Perel agreed with Herbert that while the operation was within Op-Center's jurisdiction, the political issue was a matter for the State Department and the White House to decide. Rodgers reminded Herbert and pointed out to the General that until they knew for a fact what was on that train, this was strictly a reconnaissance matter. Until that situation changed, he had no choice but to pursue this course of action— regardless of the danger. On-site intelligence gathering, he said, was never
