Page 22 of Radar (Iniquus Certified Cerberus Tactical K9 #2)

Xander

Sunday

Fairbanks, Alaska

“All right, Hiro, I’m in Fairbanks.” Xander was about done with planes and airports. “I’m grabbing my bag, then heading toward the car rental.”

Xander strode along the corridor toward the luggage claim with the rest of his flight’s passengers.

After the Newark mess made him miss his original connection, Xander had been hipping and hopping from airport to airport like a child in an Easter egg hunt, trying to get to Fairbanks.

Orest Kalinsky got in almost twenty-four hours before him.

Orest’s bags had not, in fact, been searched upon landing, and Orest had spent his day unencumbered by the Fairbanks FBI because their supervisor was disinclined to do the DIA or the CIA a favor. They even gave Finley’s supervisor, Frost, a cold shoulder.

The play of words in that thought brought a momentary smile to Xander’s lips.

Throughout his career, Xander had learned the importance of keeping things light along the trail. The dark was a burden that wore a man down.

Gallows humor was a survival technique.

Xander conscientiously looked for a reason to smile or laugh along the way.

And, too, Radar was with him. Cerberus drummed it into Xander that Radar thought that work was play.

And Radar would hardwire with Xander’s emotions.

If Xander wanted a working dog that actually worked, Xander would have to embrace the idea that work was play for himself as well.

And so Xander practiced keeping things chill as the dangers heated up.

Once he had his bag, Xander would head to Lumberjack, Alaska, a town with a population of 129.

Lumberjack was a dot on the map, so small that Xander had a hard time convincing the GPS search mechanism that it existed at all. Lumberjack was, in fact, two hours out in the pristine nothingness of Alaska. That’s where Orest had kenneled his dogs for the last number of years.

With nothing there but trees and snow drifts, why else would Kalinsky be here but to see the dogs?

Here was the big question: Was Orest there, or was he in the wind?

“Once I have the car,” Xander told Hiro. “I’m heading right for the lodge. You got me reservations, right?”

“Yeah, about that,” Hiro said. “We had to hack in and remove a different reservation to get you in at all. Why it’s so popular at this time of year is a mystery to me.”

“Wait, did you say you hacked the system?” Xander asked.

“Not me, I used that high school hotshot code breaker who works for us after school and on weekends. Look, I did what was necessary to get you a place to stay. It’s too cold to camp in Alaska this time of year.

It’s a six-dog night, at least, and you only have the one,” Hiro said.

“I was looking at the weather forecast, and you're in for nippy weather. I hope you brought mukluks with you.”

“First thing I packed.” Xander wished he had a good pair of indigenous seal-skin mukluks.

The best he could do, given the spur-of-the-moment assignment, was to throw some extra thermal socks in his bag.

If that didn’t work in Slovakian temperatures, he knew his boots weren’t up to double-digit negative numbers here in Alaska.

At least he had a Russian fur hat with flaps that kept his brain toasty.

“In order to find you a bed,” Hiro was saying, “we had to find a new arrival, someone you could beat to the registration desk. I wasn’t able to get you right next to Orest. There are two rooms between you and him.

Burns and Orest have signed in. Burns is first in the row.

Then Orest, two rooms, you. Best we could do, but it makes surveillance harder. ”

“I’m not worried about that,” Xander said. “Tell me more about beating someone to the desk.”

“Get your bag, grab the car, pick yourself up some fast food, and book it to the lodge. The couple coming in has a note on their registration saying they’ll be coming straight from Fairbanks Airport and will be late checking in.

If everything goes to plan, you’ll be tucked in bed.

And according to the law, that means you win the race. ”

“Thanks, I appreciate the effort. But I hope something opens up for those people I’m displacing. That’s not cool.”

“But a nuclear winter sure is,” Hiro said.

“Think of it this way, Xander, while they may be inconvenienced, their sacrifice might prove pivotal to the continued existence of the human race. Man, I gave myself a chill. It’s almost like I can hear the Doomsday Clock ticking in my ear.

I’m eating a peanut butter and potato chip sandwich, pretending that the good guy always wins in the end. ”

“You and me both, brother.” After Xander ended the call, he worked the plan.

He liked to think it was a good omen that everything was going smoothly. The car was ready. Radar was being his best-boy self. The food was tasty, the coffee hot, and the drive was interesting enough that Xander wasn’t forced to sing along with the radio to stay awake.

But it was winter in Alaska, so now that it was dinner time, it was dark out.

The front desk lady handed out his key card with a “Welcome, Mr. Belov, enjoy your stay. The lodge staff lights the evening fire at seven. We allow dogs if they're on leash and under supervision.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Xander pocketed his key card while taking another look at the map, protected under glass on the check-in desk.

The apple-cheeked woman put her finger on his room. “Just out the door and turn to the right. The numbers are visible. You're down toward the end there.”

“Thank you, again.”

In his doggie shoes meant to protect his paws from frostbite, Radar comically high-stepped by Xander’s side.

Together, they moved along the boardwalk past the dining room.

There, sitting alone at a four-top, was Orest Kalinsky.

Xander had only seen the man in photos and videos, but he knew it was Orest by the way Xander pressed his weight into his heels and his perception expanded, preparing him for a fight.

Here was the enemy.

And yet, he looked like a jovial old man kidding around with the waitress as she picked up a large empty bowl and set an identically large bowl in front of him.

It looked like cobbler and ice cream, and Orest was clapping his hands and rubbing them together like an excited child.

The waitress was laughing at what he said and looked delighted as she left.

As Orest dug into his dessert, Xander thought he had at least ten minutes to act.

Hiro had said that the squirrel-guy’s room was at the end, and Orest’s was the second cabin room in the lineup.

After a quick scan to ensure he was alone, Xander used his universal entry device, which gained him access to any carded door.

Leaving his suitcase outside against the wall, Radar followed Xander into the room.

A quick check of Orest’s luggage tag told Xander he was in the right place.

“Radar, give warning,” Xander said. He’d seen this skill on video but had never practiced it. If someone were to come into view, Radar should whine to alert Xander.

Radar knew what he was doing. He sat at attention at the door that Xander had left partially open. Radar’s whole body was tense with concentration, giving Xander confidence he could focus on the list of tasks he needed to accomplish.

Over a decade of practice made these next steps fluid and efficient as he searched Orest’s belongings and used the equipment in his backpack to wire the room for sound and place hidden cameras.

“Test. Test. Test,” he said, looking at the readout on his phone to ensure the mics were operating properly.

Gathering up his bag, Xander was back by Radar’s side. “Radar, release.” He opened the door, scanned for any onlookers, then turned to give the room a final check to confirm everything was in order. When he closed the door behind him, he listened for the click that ensured that it locked properly.

He didn’t need Orest’s suspicions aroused.

Xander took hold of his suitcase handle. He and Radar paced past the two rooms that made his surveillance a bit less efficient, and at that third door, he swiped his card and went in.

It was everything he could have imagined an Alaskan cottage room to look like, right down to the cheery red quilt that seemed hand-sewn and the wooden carvings of black bears.

Xander loaded Radar onto the bed and opened his computer, testing the surveillance cameras, checking the volume, and then lying back to wait and see.

The Bureau was tapping Orest’s phone. That put the information in a chain of custody that might or might not filter its way to Xander.

Claude Burns, squirrel doctor, wasn’t at the table with Orest. Xander saw Claude as a potential resource. He planned to befriend the man while they were in Lumberjack. If nothing else, he could put surveillance in Claude’s room once Xander knew where Claude was and that the coast was clear,

Lying on his bed, booted feet hanging over the edge, Xander waited for Orest to go back to his room. Xander wanted to observe the man’s behavior to ensure his surveillance work went unnoticed.

Radar stretched out beside him. His head rested on Xander’s stomach as they relaxed together.

The mics in Orest’s room picked up the click and swish of the door, followed by a great moan, and shuffling.

Xander tapped on the camera feed.

The room itself was empty, but Xander heard piss going into the toilet and a flush. There was no water at the sink. “Note to self, avoid shaking the man’s hand,” Xander said under his breath as he adjusted the angle of the camera set to watch the door.

There was an oof and another groan, and Xander toggled his switch to direct the mid-room camera to take in the bed, where Orest Kalinsky stretched out wearing a t-shirt with his belt unfastened, and his pants spread open.

Orest reached into his pocket for his phone and tapped.

“We are all here, but I am leaving very early in the morning. The team is in place? Planes? Boxes?”

…

“Good. Good.”

Orest’s words came through the AI translator almost instantaneously. When the computer spoke the conversation in English, it retained Orest’s Slovak accent.

Listening over the computer, Xander only had one side of the conversation. In the quiet spaces, Xander was guessing what might be said on the other end.

Frustrating? Absolutely. But the FBI was collecting the entirety of the back-and-forth.

And that was the fingers-crossed part of the operation. Could Finley get clearance to hand that file to Xander since Xander was in a different alphabet, or would the Bureau clutch it to their chests? Xander put his questions on a mental list as he continued to listen to Orest.

“Dr. Tapper is present throughout?”

…

“The pilot?” Orest asked. “He’s one of ours?”

…

“Will be?” Orest sniffed deeply. “Good enough. Sadly, we must add the extra box. I had hoped to avoid shipping. Make sure Tapper has the file. This last box is the most important. There are to be no mistakes.”

…

“My dear boy, I have an upset stomach. The cobbler was so delicious that I ate too much. The homemade ice cream? Sublime. Mastery. I almost wish for another cargo box, so I might have this always.”

…

“I know, not in this shipment. The planes are too small. Still,” Orest sounded wistful, “it was an appealing thought. Listen, tonight, I ate something new. They had moose on the menu. Very interesting taste indeed. I have never eaten moose before. Gigantic creatures. As big as a house, if you can imagine. Enormous. I wished to eat it tonight as I was angry at even the idea of a moose and wanted my vengeance.”

…

“This is not for laughing, boy. I was traumatized. There was moose on the path when we were out with dogs this afternoon. We had to bring the team to a complete stop. It was frightening because we couldn’t get the dogs to rest quietly, and we couldn’t turn the team around as we had all fourteen on our line.

Had the moose so wished, he could have trampled my entire team.

And I would have seen it. Horrific. Nightmarish images.

Oh, my stomach is too full of yummy things for such ugly thoughts. I need to sleep this away.”

…

“Yes, it is quite early in the evening here. But as I said, I head back to Fairbanks early morning.”

…

“San Francisco? Yes. Yes. Beautiful views and delicious wines. It’s a shame I won’t be there longer. I say goodnight then. Bye-bye.”

When the connection ended, Xander sent the readout back to Hiro for immediate assessment and a heads-up that he needed to speak with Finley’s team.

This was news; Orest was heading to Fairbanks in the morning.

Xander would love to know what was said on the other side. It sounded like an upcoming trip would move him through San Francisco. But was that sooner or later?

Could that be part of the conversation about the boxes?

Where did the boxes originate, and where would they end up?

Mostly, Xander wondered what they contained.

The conversation didn’t necessarily have anything to do with the doomsday machine.

It might, in fact, have to do with one of Orest’s foundation’s research studies.

Orest needed a doctor to be present with the boxes. What kind of doctor? What discipline of expertise?

At least they had a name that would be traveling with the shipment, Dr. Tapper. The systems could search for the name. But practically, Xander didn’t expect anything to come of it. Worldwide, how many Dr. Tappers were there?

Xander followed up on his file share with a text to Hiro, asking him to check if Orest was taking a flight out of Fairbanks to San Francisco the next day. And if so, was there anyone working on the Zoric mission who could meet Orest’s flight in San Francisco to see what he did next?

Xander couldn’t go. There were so few people at the lodge that it would be evident that Xander was shadowing Orest. And, honestly, if Orest had used a Zoric neurotoxin on York to shake the tail, it was best to move the rabbit along to another set of eyes and keep everyone safe. Safer. He texted Long.

Xander: Any word on York? How’s he holding up?

Since Orest’s phone call ended, there was silence in his room, followed by deep, resonant snoring.

Xander caught Radar’s gaze. “We should go see if we can find Dr. Claude Squirrel-guy and make friends. There’s nothing for tourists to do here at night but hang out at the lodge, so I can probably catch up with him there.”

Xander figured that even if Claude didn’t know who Dr. Tapper was or why Orest was talking about boxes and small planes, he might have heard Orest say something helpful along the way.

Perhaps Orest dropped a breadcrumb that Claude could point to, allowing Xander to stop the machine that seemed set to go off on an expedited timeline.