Page 71 of Denied Access (Mitch Rapp #24)

R APP stared at Hurley, convinced he’d misunderstood. “Mercenaries?”

“Exactly.”

“Who’s paying them?”

“That’s the genius part. Remember how the SVR got into trouble because of the slush fund Ivanov was running with Hezbollah shitbags?”

Of course he remembered.

The trouble Hurley was referencing was the impetus for Rapp’s trip to Beirut and all that followed.

Mikhail Ivanov had been the deputy director of Directorate S back in his KGB days, but unlike Petrov, he’d moved to the SVR when his old intelligence service had been disbanded.

While in that role, he’d convinced his superiors to fund a Hezbollah terrorist cell operating in Beirut.

As dirtbags were prone to do, Ivanov starting skimming money, which in turn got him into trouble, which in turn eventually got him dead.

“Let me guess,” Rapp said, “not to be outdone by their sister service, the FSK also has a slush fund and Petrov runs it?”

“Yes, but it gets better. The SVR used outsiders to manage their dirty money. Sketchy banks in Switzerland, Germany, and the Caribbean. The kind of financial institutions known for accepting deposits and not asking questions. Petrov works differently. He runs his operation in-house.”

Rapp looked at Hurley in disbelief. “He has his own banker?”

“Not just any banker. Florian Schmidt. He’s former Stasi, but his specialty was rather unique.

When most of his fellow East German intelligence officers were attempting to steal Western military and state secrets, Schmidt was focused on industrial espionage until he moved on to an even more lucrative target—West German banks. ”

“That was a thing?”

“It’s still a thing. Think of him as Ohlmeyer’s equivalent.

He and Petrov worked together when Petrov was stationed in East Berlin.

After the wall came down, Schmidt accepted Petrov’s offer to join him in Moscow.

Schmidt still works for the FSK today. Right now, his portfolio includes paying Vympel teams to run off-the-books operations against Petrov’s enemies. ”

“This really is some Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy bullshit,” Rapp said.

“You had the Boys from Berlin in Volkov, Muller, Bauer, and Ohlmeyer. On the other side of the Iron Curtain, Petrov was working against you with Schmidt, Lebedev, and that CIA-turncoat piece of shit, Alexander Hughes. Two competing espionage cells, each manned by spies, traitors, and cutthroats.”

Hurley gave a slow nod. “That was the Cold War in a nutshell, kid.”

“But what about Hughes? Where does he fit?”

“I think Alexander Hughes was a distraction from the start. Does he still work for Petrov? Maybe. But a lot has changed in the CIA since he defected back in the seventies. His information has long since been exhausted. I think he was a stalking horse to distract Ohlmeyer, and by extension, Stansfield.”

Rapp took a final puff from his cigarette before following Hurley’s example.

The security deposit was definitely not getting returned. “Then it all points back to Petrov?”

“That’s how I read things,” Hurley said.

“He’s a pretty smart fucker, but the Latvian false-flag operation is his weakness.

I’m willing to bet the Russian president doesn’t have a clue that his domestic intelligence service is blowing up bars full of ethnic Russians as a pretext for an invasion.

Before the FSK took her out of commission, Irene was trying to link up with a Russian volunteer.

He claimed to be a high-ranking intelligence officer with information that could avert a war in Latvia. He’s the key to all of this.”

“And we’re going to bring in the volunteer?”

“Exactly,” Hurley said. “Stansfield gave me his assessment of Moscow Station. It’s a shit show.

The case officers are under constant surveillance and jumping at shadows.

With Irene out of commission, there’s no one left to take charge.

We’re gonna enter Russia dark, meet this volunteer, and then pass his information to Stansfield. ”

“That’s why we’re in Doha?”

“Yep. Despite the jackassery that’s occurred since the KGB split into the SVR and FSK, the Russians are still the best intelligence officers in the business.

We’ll come in separately and link up in Moscow.

My cover will be as a German businessman fresh off a meeting with his Qatari investors.

Business is good and I’m thinking of expanding into Moscow. ”

Rapp could guess where this was headed, but he asked the question anyway. “What about me?”

Hurley upended the plastic bag, and the contents spilled across the coffee table. At first Rapp thought Hurley had brought a mophead into the apartment. Then he saw the wig tape, adhesives, and prosthetic nose. “I’m going to the party as a jihadi?”

“Not just any jihadi. You’re a Hezbollah moneyman looking for new investment opportunities.”

Beirut.

It always came back to Beirut.

“Sounds like a good plan, Stan. There’s just one problem.”

“What?”

“I’m not doing it.”