considered his options.
The first involved his superior Alekzander Mishkin. The discovery of Black Judas would realize Mishkin’s dream of becoming even more important than he already was. He would seize the moment and use it to forward his own career. Taking control of the project and removing it from General Berienko’s control would allow Mishkin to die a happy man. Once Federov handed over the details of Black Judas, any control he had would be taken away from him. Mishkin would become hands-on, wanting to be in charge of every aspect of the project. Federov would be given the task of overseeing the Unit’s demise.
Federov found he didn’t like that idea in any way. He sat and stared at the Black Judas file, lighting yet another cigarette. The ashtray on the desk was already full of half-smoked stubs. Pushing through his ordered thoughts was an alternative, one that even Federov found exciting, scary, full of risks, but if he managed to pull it off it would ensure his future way beyond his wildest dreams.
Understanding the way Black Judas worked had planted a rebellious thought in Federov’s mind. It was based on the “what if” concept. What if he took control of the project and employed it to benefit himself rather than Mishkin? The potential yield from Black Judas was limitless. Instead of destroying the American economy, the project could be diverted to manipulating the financial world for Federov’s gain. The more he considered, the stronger his feelings became.
He could do this. He had control of men, and the finances to fund those men. He thought of his life and things others had that he was denied. Black Judas could change all that.
Federov sobered up, aware of the magnitude of what he was considering. One of the stumbling blocks was Alekzander Mishkin. It was through Mishkin that Federov commanded his power. He would need the protection of Mishkin’s position while he engineered Black Judas. To do that he would need to bring Mishkin into the loop. He would need to inform Mishkin about Black Judas, but not give him full details. Federov’s mind began to work feverishly. While he considered how to gain Mishkin’s approval, Federov was extracting sheets of data from the file, making swift notes on how he could work the information into a saleable item for Minister Mishkin. It took him another couple of hours to create his alternative file. By the time he made his way from the basement, back to his secure office, Federov had it all clear in his mind.
He was going to need time to make copies of the file and transfer data onto a CD through his own computer system. He would create two versions. One version would be of the complete file for himself. The other would be an abridged version, which he would present to Mishkin, with apologies that he needed more time to search for additional details. The minister would be pleased with what Federov had supposedly uncovered, unaware there was more. His gratitude would allow Federov to ask for whatever he needed in personnel and special dispensations. These considerations would let Federov pursue his own agenda, while keeping Mishkin dangling.
Federov spent the next few days transferring the Black Judas files onto his personal computer in his apartment. He scanned the documents and the photographs, building up a full dossier for himself, then edited the information into a presentable form for Mishkin. He made copies of both editions, deleted the data from his computer and shredded the original files. He took his time, not wanting to make any errors by rushing the process. Federov had a personal safe in the wall of his apartment. He placed one of his CDs there. The other copy he deposited in his safe-deposit box at his bank.
Later that same morning he presented himself at Minister Mishkin’s office where he spoke in private, detailing what he had found, then presented Mishkin with the two copies of the Black Judas file.
Federov could still recall the expression on Mishkin’s face as he had read through the data on his computer monitor. His enthusiasm spilled over to the point where he was almost drooling. Mishkin had finally turned away from the screen, staring across at Federov. He did not speak for a while. Federov could see the gleam in his eyes, almost hear the thoughts turning over and over inside his head.
“Who else has seen this, Karl?”
“No one. I did all the checking myself. Kept no written notes. The files I found were removed from the archives so no one else might stumble across them. I scanned everything I located into a computer and saved it to a CD. Once I’d done that I wiped everything from the computer and destroyed the originals. You have the only copies.”
Which actually was not strictly true.
Mishkin was not the only one with high ambition, and Karl Federov was well placed to be able to use information he had found to his own advantage. Mishkin might yet find out he was not as clever as he imagined—not with Karl Federov working against him and not for nationalistic reasons.
“Black Judas,” Mishkin had said. “That project has been guarded for so long, and deniability has been so strongly maintained, even I suspected it was nothing but KGB legend. But it does exist and now the FSB has picked up the baton and is sitting on the damned thing. Why haven’t they activated the sleepers? What are they waiting for?”
“Chenin believes the final countdown is under way. Once the last details are established, the activation codes will be issued to the teams in America.”
“Karl, we have to gain control of that project. If we do, we can write our own ticket.”
Federov nodded in agreement, but for a different reason. His personal reasons. “I agree. The Unit will resist, though. They are still powerful, and we have to make sure we obtain every piece of information about Black Judas before they are eliminated. That’s why I need to keep searching for additional data.”
Mishkin had slapped his hand on the desk. “Damn Krushen’s pack of rabid hounds. If I could get away with it, I would have them up against a wall tomorrow. A swift volley from a squad of our security men would solve that problem. Unfortunately those days are gone. We need to be cautious, however. There are too many unfriendly eyes and ears out there.”
“Leave it to me.”
“Anything you want, Karl, just ask.”
This was working out better than he had ever imagined. Here was Minister Mishkin offering to give him anything Federov wanted. How about your job, Mishkin? Federov cleared his throat. “I have no problem gathering my main team. But if we really want this to work, I need the best.”
Something registered in Mishkin’s eyes as he had glanced across the desk. He suddenly grasped what Federov was intending.
“My God, man, are you sure?”
“Can you think of anyone better to deal with Krushen and his people?”
“I see your reasoning—but…”
“We need him, Minister.”
Mishkin still hesitated. He understood Federov’s request. His urgent need to use the one man capable of dealing with Mischa Krushen on his own terms. The problem was that the man Federov intended to bring on board presented his own problems.
“Minister, you want this to succeed? Then give me what I want. Give me Viktor Kirov.”
CHAPTER TWO
The Russian air-force transport landed on time, despite the inclement weather. Karl Federov watched it taxi along the runway, then turn toward the hangar. He remained where he was as the mobile steps were pushed into place in front of the opened door. A tight group of five men emerged from the plane and descended the steps. Four were carrying submachine guns. The fifth, walking
