Chapter 7

“As you can see behind me,” the reporter says, waving her hand at the scene. “Tanks, helicopters and ground troops are invading South Africa. I have received confirmed reports of battleships off the coast. This looks like a full scale invasion with both Russian and Chinese militaries in the mix. The entire country is in an uproar with locals trying to get out of the country. This just coming in...” she pauses to put a hand to her ear and listens for a few moments. “I have just received word that the same thing is happening in Madagascar. Both militaries seem to be pouring their efforts into both countries. No one really knows for sure what their intentions are or just how much of the continent they plan to invade.” She puts up a smile. “When we receive more information, we’ll report it back to you. I will try to stay in the country for as long as I can, but it seems the local police want everyone that can leave to do so. This is Barbara Sandies reporting to you live from Pretoria.”

“Give me some good news, Andy,” the president says looking at the Secretary of Homeland Security, Andy Petroff.

“There’s not much I can give you, sir,” that man answers. “I spoke to Russia Prime Minister Chernoff and he tells me Russia has claim in South Africa. He also assures me that this has no bearing on any future attacks on the U.S. or any other country.”

“And we would be fools to believe it too,” McKinsey says. “What does China say?”

“I wasn’t able to speak to the prime minister, but I was able to speak to China’s ambassador,” Petroff continues. “He stated that China was not involved in the conflict and does not intend to be.”

“Nothing surprising there either,” the commander in chief remarks. “Clearly that’s a lie. Now we have a problem. Do we send in our forces or wait and believe their lies and prepare for world war three?”

“Are we in the position to use our armed forces?” the secretary of defense, Henry Rylings asks.

“I agree with Henry, the attorney general, Marsha Golding says. “A new vice president and chief of staff have not been selected yet and now we have possible terrorists and these new Goji running around. We’re under attack and we cannot afford to stretch ourselves thin.”

“What does our newly formed TDF have to say about any of this?” Rylings asks.

“I’ll let Director Cornelius tell you himself,” McKinsey says, waving to an aide.

The door opens and Roger Cornelius walks in. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” he says curtly. “I’ll get right to the point.” The large man takes a seat and sets a folder down on the table. “As of right now I have the TDF’s tactical chief with a unit tracing these unknown terrorist and suspected Goji. We are also tracking down the individuals responsible for the kidnapping of prominent scientists from around the world. With the growing conflict we believe both events are linked together. We hope once we find one, the other will fall in place shortly after.”

“That all fine and dandy, but we are still faced with the problem of South Africa and countries surrounding it,” Golding says. “Besides, it seems like the TDF are pretty stretched thin. I don’t believe you have grown that big in six months.”

“We have partial aid from the Black List and...” Roger begins to alleviate concerns.

“That too is fine and dandy,” the attorney general interrupts with a sneer. “From what I understand, this Black List left a gaping hole that the TDF had to fill and now it’s suddenly back, but not as strong as it was and only helping you a little.”

“That is a good summarization,” the TDF director admits. “But...”

“I read every report that is sent out of your office,” Golding says. “And so far I am not entirely impressed with your performance. Yes, you were helpful in the crisis we faced six months ago, but I’m not seeing that same enthusiasm now.”

“I fully back the TDF,” McKinsey says. “They have been a service to this country and the world long before you or I was in office. Berating them right now isn’t going to get us anywhere. If we bicker like this than that combined force out there will take control of the region and be on our doorsteps in no time. We will have trouble pushing them out once they are dug in.”

“Look,” Petroff says, abruptly standing up from his chair and slamming his hands down on the table. “I don’t totally agree with the TDF, but they are a necessity. And I know we all have an opinion, but the president called us here to make a decision, not bring up matters that can be discussed when we’re not facing a threat by two powerful countries and terrorists right in our back yard.”

Looking at Roger, McKinsey grins and then shrugs. ‘How long before you can know something more?”

“Maybe forty-eight hours,” the director says.

“I need something accurate, Roger,” the president says sternly, leaving the unsaid words for the TDF director to fill in. “What we decide hinges on that.”

“Give me forty-eight hours,” Roger asks. “If we don’t have something by then...”

McKinsey sits back, letting their words sink into the heads of everyone present. The rest of the room falls silent, each person trying to find a solution to offer. No matter what they chose to do, it would be bad politically. They now have a promise to fulfill, a promise McKinsey himself is responsible for making. The president stands and looks each of the members in the eye before speaking. “Forty-eight hours. If we don’t have any progress, we go to war.”

Getting into the Rasputin is normally not an easy task. The strip club is so popular and ran by the Black Dragon that with the line stretching to the back of the building and the select few allowed in, keeps many potential patrons out. Luckily the agents have an invitation, because not even having law enforcement credentials would get them in.

Claude had explained how Stalokavich, with his vast wealth either bought up many clubs like this or created his own. On the outside, the leader of the Black Dragon looks like a legit businessman and is even able to pass for one. Once inside, the trio of agents is directed to the back of the club into a private section. Stalokavich is easily recognizable. Besides the two strippers on either side of him kissing on him and the one down in his lap sucking his cock, he has an air of importance about him.

As soon as he sees that he has company, he sends the girls on their way and zips up his pants. Then he offers the agents a seat. “What can I do for you this evening? Care for a drink? Free of charge, of course,” he says as if he is amused by something.

“No thanks,” Spencer says.

“I’ll take a drink,” Claude says.

Sam gives him a look. The Interpol agent simply smiles and says, “Never turn down a free drink.”

“A good attitude,” Stalokavich says. He motions for a waitress to take the man’s order. “The police don’t come near my establishments, so you are lucky I allowed your entry.”

Spencer ignores the boasting. “We need information.”

Stalokavich chuckles while he smiles. His eyes drop over Sam as he looks her over. “Then you come to the right place, though it doesn’t come cheap.”

“When doesn’t it?” Sam asks rhetorically.

This causes the gangster to laugh. “I like your attitude. I could use you here.”

“Fat chance,” Samantha snarls.

“How much?” Spencer asks, trying to turn the gangster’s thoughts back to the conversation about information.

“How about a private dance?” Stalokavich asks, reaching out to place his hand on Sam’s thigh.

The hand is swatted away quickly by her. “How about we see how far my foot will go in your ass first?”

Stalokavich frowns. “Two thousand dollars,” he says with disdain. “American.” Spencer produces a stack of hundred dollar bills and lays them on the table in from of the gangster. “Not too smart walking around with that kind of cash.”

“Money isn’t an object,” the agent says. “Besides, if someone wants it that bad, I only hope their life is worth it.”

Stalokavich smiles at that. “Point taken,” he says. “Now, what would you like to know?”

“Two days ago four people from entirely different fields of science were kidnapped,” the man begins. “Who would be interested in taking them?”

How would I know this?” Stalokavich asks, sighing and leaning back into the couch. “This is a big world and I’m just one small person trying to make a living in it. Unless this was in Russia I don’t think I can help you.”

“We know it was someone from Russia,” Sam states. “A note was left behind.”

“Well, you are still barking up the wrong tree,” the gangster says. “If anything bad happens in Russia, you should look at the KGB.”

“You sound like someone that has gotten out in the world,” Sam comments. “You’re English is quite remarkable.”

Stalokavich laughs. “Harvard.”

“And I’m the queen of England,” Sam counters sarcastically.

“You got me,” the gangster says with a wink. “Sexy and smart, are you sure you don’t wish to come work for me?”

“I guess we’re just wasting our time,” Spencer says impatiently and not ready to go another round of his harassment. He reaches for the stack of hundreds still lying untouched on the table.

Stalokavich’s hand shoots out to stop him from taking it. “I’ll give you a name that’s worth your money. There’s a new organization called Winter. They are the ones with all the answers.”

“How do you know of this group?” Claude finally pipes in after remaining quiet for so long.

“Let’s just say I know people,” the gangster says with a smirk.

Abruptly shouts start up over the loud thumping music. Patrons, staff and strippers begin to either scream or try to run for the various exits. Stalokavich pulls out a pistol and stands up. He heads for the door ahead of the three agents and looks through it. Spencer and Sam are the first to draw their guns.

Stalokavich turns. As a bonus, I’ll give you this piece of advice: stay out of Winter’s way and you may just live.” He then pushes past the agents to the far wall. In a few seconds the wall is moving to produce a doorway with the man slips through and closes right behind.

Claude being closer, rushes over to push on the section of wall the gangster slipped through, but it doesn’t budge. The door looks exactly like the rest of the wall. There isn’t any sign of anything that will give them access to what is behind it.

“Well, I guess we fight our way out,” Spencer says, heading for the door.

“Looks like you got your trap after all,” Claude remarks as he finally reaches for his gun.

The three step out of the private room and into chaos. Police are filling in through every door shouting in Russian and English. Patrons, staff and strippers are being forced to the ground and handcuffed. There are enough police personnel to keep everyone from escaping. Even before the three agents can get their bearings, the police have their guns trained on them.

“Hold it!” an officer yells in English. “Put your weapons down and where they can be seen.”

Slowly, the three place their guns on the floor and stand back up with arms raised high above their heads.

“So much for our cover,” Spencer mutters.

It doesn’t take long for Maykov to appear at the jail. Apparently news travels fast. And before long, she has taken care of any paperwork needed and has the three foreign agents released without any further questions. Afterward, she takes them to a safe house.

“Just how did you manage to spring us?” Claude asks. He knows Interpol wouldn’t have been able to cut through all the red tape so quickly, if at all.

“It’s easy once the bribe is high enough,” Maykov reveals.

“What exactly happened?” Spencer asks, taking the reply at face value. “Stalokavich bragged how the police never go near his places.”

“Apparently someone paid them more than Stalokavich,” the double agent reasons. “I’m not privy to that information, so I can only guess. You’re cover is still intact if you are worried about that.” She reveals all three agent’s guns and hands them over.

“How did you pull this off?” Samantha asks hesitantly taking hers.

“Having an Interpol agent with you made it easier to convince the police that you are working with him,” Maykov explains. With enough money, anything is possible.”

“How much do we owe you?” Spencer asks.

“Nothing,” the woman says.

“Where have you been all my life?” Claude asks. This grabs the attention of the other three, each casting him a look of surprise. He laughs. “How many women do you know that will spend money and not ask for it back?”