“So what do you have for me?” he asked.
“I’ll tell you in a moment,” said Kushner. “First, I need to get some breakfast. I’m starving.”
The Pole almost couldn’t believe it. His friend had arrived almost an hour late, and now wanted him to wait while he hit the buffet.
“By all means,” Wójcik replied. “Take your time.”
His facetiousness was completely lost on the man.
Watching as he quickly walked over to the buffet, he had to wonder if Pavel was actually hungry, or if he was just eager to chat up the very large-breasted woman picking up berries, one at a time, with a pair of tongs and daintily placing them on a small white plate.
Signaling the waitress, the Pole politely requested more coffee. He looked at his watch and tried to figure out how long it would take to get home if he was able to leave in the next half hour. Depending on traffic, it was a seven- to eight-hour drive. Kopec had forbidden him to fly. Customs at the Minsk airport was much tougher than at the vehicle border crossing.
Since their meeting Saturday night in Gorky Park, his psoriasis had only gotten worse. No matter how much ointment he applied, it wasn’t getting any better. In fact, it had spread. He really needed to decrease his stress.
Pulling out his phone, he searched for the nearest drugstore. He would pick up some petroleum jelly and slather his affected skin before leaving. He hoped that would provide enough relief for him to withstand the uncomfortable drive home.
“Did you see that woman in the knit dress?” Kushner asked as he sat down, his plate piled high with eggs, pancakes, and bacon.
“How could anyone miss her?”
“She’s from Babruysk. You know what they say about women from Babruysk.”
“Actually, in Warsaw we don’t talk about women from Babruysk that often. In fact, it’s probably closer to never. Can we get on with our business, please?”
“My dear, dear Tomasz,” Kushner replied. “What good is all the money we made, and all the risks we took, if we cannot enjoy ourselves?”
“Pavel, we have known each other for many years, so I hope you’ll appreciate my being comfortable enough with you to be frank. Knock off the bullshit. Do you have something for me, or not?”
“What I have is a prediction for you. Within a year, unless you loosen up, you will be in a retirement home.”
The Pole shook his head. “Of all the meetings I have ever had, this is the one I should have brought a gun to. You’d better have more than just a prediction in that briefcase, old friend.”
Kushner smiled. “Would I disappoint you, old friend?” he asked, opening the case to show him what was inside.
Wójcik removed the file folder from his own briefcase and compared the pictures Kopec had given him to what he was now looking at. It was a perfect match. Kushner appeared to have secured the components from one of the upgrade kits.
“Where did you get that?”
The Belarusian shrugged. “It wasn’t difficult. I told you. There are only a few people in Belarus who could handle something like this.”
“Where are the rest of the kits?”
“They’re safe.”
“I paid you one hundred thousand dollars to locate them,” said the Pole.
“Which I did,” Kushner replied. “I even brought one here to prove it to you. If you have a buyer interested in the entire lot, I’d be happy to let my source know.”
Wójcik looked at him. “So now you’re the broker on this deal?”
“As far as you’re concerned, yes.”
“Who has the upgrade kits?”
“My dear Tomasz, it would be highly unethical of me to divulge that information,” said the Belarusian.
Wójcik felt a wave of nausea coming over him. Kopec was going to be extremely angry at this development.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to remain calm. “How about this? Let’s go downstairs to my room. I’ll take a few photographs of the merchandise, contact my client, and we’ll take things from there.”
“Can I finish my breakfast first?” asked Kushner.
“Bring it with you,” replied the Pole, removing several bills from his wallet and placing them on the table. “I’ll carry the case.”
Picking up his plate and his coffee cup, Kushner followed Wójcik to the elevator and down to his room.
There, Wójcik produced a small digital camera and took pictures of the components from every conceivable angle.
When he was finished, Kushner shoveled the last bite of food into his mouth, repacked the equipment into his briefcase, and headed for the door.
“Wait a second,” said Wójcik. “Where are you going?”
“If your client is interested, you know how to reach me,” Kushner replied. “Thanks for breakfast.”
Leaving the room, the Belarusian was careful to make sure that he wasn’t being followed. He had been warned that Wójcik likely had a tail.
As he disappeared into the stairwell, a man stepped out of a doorway at the other end of the hall. Seeing that the Pole’s visitor had left, he removed his encrypted cell phone and composed a message. Oleg Tretyakov would want to know everything that had happened.
CHAPTER 60
* * *
ENTERING LITHUANIAN AIR SPACE
Harvath’s plan wasn’t simple. In fact, it was quite complicated. That meant there were a lot of ways in which it could go wrong.
According to Kuznetsov, Colonel Oleg Tretyakov was in Kaliningrad. Similar to the Vatican’s being its own state within Italy, Kaliningrad was an exclave—sovereign Russian territory, a minicountry cut off from Russia—right inside Europe.
Sandwiched in between NATO members Poland and Lithuania, Kaliningrad was tightly controlled and nearly impossible to get into. And, based on what Kuznetsov had revealed, it would be doubly difficult for Harvath.
Kuznetsov had recognized him back on Gotland because of the CCTV footage Johansson had recovered from Visby Hospital. That footage had been forwarded to Tretyakov and had likely been added to every Russian database.
The moment Harvath tried to access any Russian-controlled port of entry and his photograph or facial scan was run, he’d be taken into custody and the GRU alerted.
That meant the only way he could get into Kaliningrad was to sneak in.
He had thought about somehow smuggling the team in via trucks, but the Kaliningrad crossings resembled those at the U.S./Mexico border. There was a heavy dog presence at each one, and they had no problem holding people up for hours as they went vehicle by vehicle, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
The situation along the exclave’s rugged coastline wasn’t any better. As Kaliningrad was home to Russia’s Baltic fleet, the surface and subsurface patrols were extensive and around-the-clock.
With land and sea options out of the question, that left only one other possibility—air.
The plan was to conduct a High Altitude Low Opening, or HALO, parachute jump.
They would exit the aircraft over Lithuanian airspace and glide for several kilometers, popping their chutes and landing in a predetermined location in the Kaliningrad countryside.
From there, they would make their way into the city and search for Tretyakov. Everything up to that point was the easy part. Getting out of Kaliningrad was going to be something else entirely. Harvath had no idea how they were going to pull that off.