"Hold up Madam Vice President." said FBI director Ryan Carey. "Sergei Volodin's dead?" After the news of Sergei's death broke President Reagan called in for an emergency meeting in the study of Big Barn. Right now, I'm facing six split screens on my personal laptop plugged in with an encrypted connection. "How the heck-?"
"He was poisoned twice with Novichok, right?" asked DNI Catherine Eckhart.
"Yeah." I said, sipping a cup of jujube tea infused with ginger. "Things just got complicated."
"I smell a set up coming madam."
"You're not wrong Tyler. The smell has grown stronger since the start." I say. "No word from MI6. A cause for concern."
"Although you're former FBI, you look more like CIA." said Tyler Wilson, the new director of the CIA.
"I need a reason for not going to war with Russia people." said President Reagan. "And the four of you aren't helping in this state." National Security Advisor Kaitlyn Brandon is reading updates from her staff while Homeland Security Advisor Charles Jacobson listened in with worry written all over his expressions.
"We know sir." Ryan replied. "This Mikhail, he is keen on seeing Russia and America nuke each other sky-high."
"Intel says that he's a ghost." I say. "Mikhail is one of a few common names for Russian males. The last leader of the Soviet Union for example."
"Agreed. The man known as Mikhail could be using the name as an alias, or it could be his real name." said the CIA director. "Any connection between this Mikhail and the assassin?"
"According to the SIS they say that Mikhail hired Sean Adamson to do the job." I say.
"That op in France, facing the Palais de Justice." Tyler said. "Is this a continuation of the FSB's manhunt?"
"Hard to say that. I did break the ribs of the leader of the FSB kill squad."
"By, chucking him out of the window you mean."
"Hey, he was going to drop me anyway. And Sergei is hiding out in the place." I say. "And the FSB is planning to kill all of us."
"Wait, why didn't anybody tell me this?" asked the president.
"The nature of the operation is meant to be a clandestine operation sir." I explained. "I know that you have a reason to be angry that Director Harkavy didn't report anything."
"In that case I understand. Let's just say that Aleksei Yuvchenko is hostile towards the United States, and he was finding a way or more of an excuse if you ask me, to criticize the West for anything that was damaging."
"We got lucky when the French agreed to help, the DGSE."
"The French president is indebted with the United States after we borrowed them a team of Navy SEALs to help retake the oil rig jacked by the Somalian pirates." the DNI said. "The team of FSB agents was brought to court on charges of attempted terrorism by trying to bomb the Palais de Justice." the door behind me opened and Timothy walked in, handing me a tablet that shows the message of a security breach in the perimeter.
"Give a minute, sorry." I say. Turning away from the screen I tapped into the security feed, focusing the camera on the main entrance which was blocked by two SUVs. "That doesn't look good." I say. "European model, same SUVs." Taking out a gun I hid in a drawer I took it and held it in my hand. Closing the computer I tiptoed out from the study, gun in hand while Agent Brock followed cautiously. He attempts to take the lead but I discouraged him from doing so. We stopped in the hallway when I heard the main door being opened.
"It's deserted chief." someone said. "But the fireplace is lit."
"It's impossible. Satellite imaging pinpoints their last known location to be here."
"Don't move." another Secret Service agent entered the compound, an MP5 submachine gun in his hands. "Who are you?" as he questioned more agents joined him, all having their weapons pointed at the intruders. "This is a restricted area." I held up my gun, a sign that I clearly know who are they. I moved towards the staircase, my steps growing louder as I walked down the wooden staircase.
"Stand down." I gave the order. The agents tensed upon my presence, as they are on their guard and weren't so sure about standing down. They know that they are British, judging from their voices and looks that resembled a British citizen. Most of all, they recognized Roland Churchill as the head of British foreign intelligence, known as SIS or a more common name, MI6. "President Reagan and Prime Minister Duncan agreed to allow the chief of MI6 to work with us on the case." I explained. "There's no need for violence. Everybody, stand down." eventually the agents stand down, shouldering their weapons but kept their guard high on detail.
"Everybody, we need the room. Continue on with your patrols, the vice president is in control of this." Timothy added. Walking down the stairs slowly with a limp in tow I gave them a brief nod.
"I need the room." I said.
"Are you sure?" Timothy asked me.
"I'm sure." I say. He looked at me at first, but then he gave me a nervous nod and leaves the room. The four of us exchanged glances at first but it was Uncle Roland who broke the silence with a cough. "Whatever the three of you are up to, next time you have to call." I said, avoiding to cross my arms thanks to the bandage wrapping around my injured arm. "Even though I know who you are." I said nothing and headed back to the study. "Sorry." I addressed the room.
"The Russians are pretty pissed about the whole FSB incident." the DNI continued. "The immigration records showed the identity of a man called Samuel D. Wilson. Despite the name he looks way more our target, Sean Adamson." the six of us tensed in response, knowing the fact that the assassin has already entered the United States holding someone else's identity.
YOU ARE READING
Russian Roulette
Mystery / Thriller"This is a crossroad Isabella." he said. "There will be no return if you were captured." "Can I even turn back?" I asked.
