Objekt 825 (Tracie Tanner Thrillers Book 9), Allan Leverone [books to read for 13 year olds txt] 📗

typical fashion CIA Director Aaron Stallings hadn’t bothered with any type of normal greeting upon answering her call via secure satellite phone.

For her part Tracie was exhausted, having driven twenty-eight hours, straight through from Sevastopol to the CIA’s Moscow safe house. She’d arrived a little after eight-thirty in the evening and dropped into a deep sleep, waiting only long enough to remove the submersible communication decoder from her car and secure it inside the safe house before falling into bed. Eight-thirty in Moscow would be the middle of the workday in D.C., which meant Stallings would not be reachable for several hours.

Her mouth felt dry and cottony when she awakened in the middle of the night to contact her handler, and a headache pounded relentlessly in her skull. She tried to recall the last time she’d gotten a good night’s sleep and could not.

But she wasn’t about to reveal herself at anything less than full strength to Stallings, and she concentrated on putting plenty of energy into her answer. “I don’t have a clue what you mean. How did I do what? I recovered the comm device and then I eliminated The Weasel. Wasn’t that the plan?”

“Sure, that was the plan. I assume you were too busy effecting your escape from Objekt 825 to pay much attention to the news reports in your area?”

“You assume correctly. I haven’t read many newspapers since I left D.C.”

“Well, you may want to check out yesterday’s issue of Pravda.”

“I could do that. Or you could fill me in. One of the benefits of reporting directly to the head of the world’s preeminent intelligence-gathering agency is that the information I get from you is typically much more accurate than anything I could read in the paper anyway.”

“One of the benefits?”

“Yes.”

“Presumably another is the pleasure of dealing with me one-on-one.”

“Exactly. I’m sure I love our little chats every bit as much as you do.”

Stallings chuckled. Or maybe he cleared his throat; Tracie wasn’t sure which. “Anyway,” he said, “my sources are telling me that your good friend, General Ivan Gregorovich, is being held on a murder charge. The victim, as you’re undoubtedly aware, is a KGB operative by the name of Andrei Lukashenko.”

“So he has been charged.” It was her turn to chuckle. “I have to be honest, Boss, I figured he’d be released from custody within a few hours, because it was one of the weakest setups you could possibly imagine. There’s absolutely no forensic evidence suggesting he killed The Weasel because, of course, he didn’t.”

“You know how things work in the USSR. If you make enemies of the wrong people, there’s little doubt as to the result of any criminal trial, evidence be damned. And in this particular case, the KGB is furious to have lost their trusted pipeline into the classified secrets of their enemies.”

“But surely the KGB doesn’t really believe Gregorovich killed their guy. What possible motive would he have?”

“Undoubtedly they do know. But the last thing the KGB will ever acknowledge is that a foreign operative was able to eliminate their man inside their own country.”

Tracie chuckled. “That would be a really bad look for them.”

“That’s right. And add to that the fact that as the top military purchasing specialist, it’s a given that somewhere along the line—probably more than once—General Gregorovich likely vetoed the purchase of equipment the KGB very badly wanted, earning himself—”

“Earning himself a very powerful enemy,” Tracie interrupted, pleased to be able to finish the boss’s sentence and thereby annoy him.

“More than one enemy would be my guess.”

She chuckled again. “The whole plan was spur of the moment. I mostly did it to create a diversion in order to cover my escape. I didn’t think there was any way it would actually work.”

“It worked.”

“So you really believe Gregorovich will be convicted?”

“I do. And even if I’m wrong about that, and he somehow manages to escape conviction, his military career is certainly over. He’s finished.”

“So his obsession with me—”

“Is irrelevant,” Stallings interjected, clearly pleased to even the score at one interruption apiece. “He can rant and rave all he wants about the redheaded American spy; no one in any position of authority will pay attention to him ever again. His credibility is shot.”

“That’s the best news I can ever remember getting at three o’clock in the morning,” Tracie said.

“I’m glad to hear it. And since you’re so wide-awake, you might just as well load the comm device into your car and start driving now. I want to get that thing out of Russia and back to the states as soon as possible. I’ll have your Gulf of Finland ride ready in twelve hours, and the agency jet waiting in Helsinki to get you home.”

“No rest for the weary, I guess.”

“Pssh,” Stallings huffed. “You’ll have a whole transatlantic airplane ride to sleep.”

“I’ll see you soon, Boss.”

“Yes you will.”

“One last question before I go.”

“Shoot.”

“I assume now that Gregorovich is out of commission, presumably for good, I won’t be stuck cooling my heels in D.C. this time when I get back?”

“You assume correctly,” Stallings shot back. “Now get moving and stop bothering me. I’ve got work to do.”

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Tracie Tanner returns soon in her tenth action-packed thriller. To be the first to learn about new releases, and for the opportunity to win free ebooks, signed copies of print books, and other swag, take a moment to sign up for Allan Leverone’s email newsletter at AllanLeverone.com.

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