Domination Bid. Don Pendleton
with bottled water. He opened the cap and handed it to Dratshev, who took it and tipped it high to his lips.
“Easy, Dr. Dratshev, please. As I said, too much too soon will make you ill.”
Dratshev remembered and resisted the urge to take more than a couple of swallows. When he’d finished drinking he asked, “Why you have done this? Do you realize who I am?”
“I do!” Madari clapped his hands like an excited child and then steepled his fingers and touched them to his chin. His dark brown eyes gazed on Dratshev with intense curiosity. “I would surmise there’s very little I don’t know about you, in fact. Your work in the field of electromagnetic pulse weapons is practically legendary in some circles. Oh, please, Dr. Dratshev, there’s no reason to look so surprised. The FSB lacks proper security precautions. Information can be had for the right amount of money, and money is a resource of which I have no short supply.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Madari smiled and shook his head as if Dratshev had told a crude joke. “I’d hoped you’d have enough sense not to play such games with me. I’m aware of your fierce loyalty toward your government. I understand loyalty more than you could ever know. I used to have the same toward my own government.”
“And what government is that?”
Dratshev could see his ploy to glean as much information from his captor as possible wasn’t lost on Madari. It was a standard tactic his FSB instructors had taught him early in his career. As a military scientist, kidnapping was an all too real and constant threat. This wasn’t lost on those within the Russian government and they insisted on putting Dratshev through regular training so he would know how to handle most scenarios.
“I was born and raised in Libya, and a prominent member of its government. But that time has long passed. Like you, I was loyal to them and they betrayed that loyalty because of certain political views I had. Had I been a wiser man, I would’ve kept those views to myself but I believed in them so much that they ultimately became my undoing. So now I am an exile.”
“A very touching story,” Dratshev said as he took another sip. “However, it doesn’t change the fact that you have illegally seized a Russian citizen. My government will not sit still for this.”
“Please, Dr. Dratshev, let’s not squabble. You are my honored guest. And when I’ve obtained from you what I need you will be released back to your government unharmed.”
“Ha! You’ve killed my security team, drugged and kidnapped me. Those are hardly the actions of a gentleman.”
“They were extreme measures, agreed, but wholly necessary.”
“Just what is it you want from me?”
“Ah, now that’s the part I think will intrigue you most. I know you were transferred to Belarus to begin practical testing of your EMP theories and designs. I fully intend to give you that opportunity. Imagine that you will be able to expand your work beyond your wildest imagination.”
“That would be very difficult to imagine.”
“But true, nonetheless.” Madari sighed. “It may come as a surprise to you, but your government has been less than honest with you in the advancements they’ve made on your prototype designs.”
“Dishonest in what way?”
“In just how far they’ve gotten in the manufacture. They’ve been purposefully slow implementing your designs, fearful what would happen if they moved up the timetable, I would guess.”
“And how could you know this? Even if it’s true, it wouldn’t make any sense. Stalling progress of my research is hardly in their best interests.”
“Not when it comes to certain parties that may not be known to you—parties that have the direct confidences of your president. You see, there are conservative elements within your government that have been attempting to persuade investors buildup of conventional armament is the key to restoring Russian military superiority. They see technical advancements as merely fodder to be stolen by others and used against them. This is why they’ve done everything in their power to slow the manufacture of your prototypes.”
Dratshev shook his head. “Then why go to such great lengths to protect me? Why not simply kill me?”
“I do not have the answer to that question, although I have frequently considered it.” Madari gestured at him. “However, I think you are sufficiently intelligent enough that you have pondered this point yourself, and most likely formulated your own answer.”
Dratshev had, in fact, and it was something he’d dared never utter for fear it might become a reality. Those inside the government who preferred conventional military might would never have risked assassination for fear of alienating those holding the power of the purse. What impressed Dratshev, however, was Madari’s refusal to conjure some story in answer to Dratshev’s question. Madari’s simple acknowledgment of ignorance demonstrated a rare and unusual sense of honesty. Dratshev had to admit he actually found that refreshing.
“This is all interesting,” Dratshev said, “but it still doesn’t drill down to the reason you’ve gone to these lengths.”
Madari smiled and then stood. “I believe it would be wiser to wait until you are more lucid to engage in such a conversation. All in good time, Dr. Dratshev.”
Madari whirled on his heel and as he headed for the door he added, “In the meantime, please consider yourself a guest and, should you need anything, perhaps food or a blanket, my assistant will be happy to get it for you. You should take every opportunity afforded you on this point. We’re still six hours from our destination.”
When Madari was gone, Dratshev took time to inspect his bonds. As he’d suspected, the restraints circling his wrists were thick leather fastened by chains. Escaping such bonds would be impossible. He looked at his legs and noted they were also secured in like fashion.
Finally, Dratshev laid his head back and closed his eyes. Best to get as much sleep as possible and wait for a more opportune time to make his escape.
Sooner or later, he knew such a solution would present itself. It always did when one exercised patience.
* * *
ELEVEN MEN WAITED as their leader studied the facility through a night-vision scope. To local residents, it appeared to be nothing more than what it was advertised: a research center run by the department of agriculture.
Colonel Jack Cyrus knew it to be otherwise, which was why he and his team were in rural Iowa.
Cyrus lowered the scope and passed it to his second-in-command, Riley Braden. “Interesting. The security appears to be minimal.”
Braden took the scope and performed his own inspection. “I agree, sir.”
Cyrus tried not to wince at the “sir” despite the fact he understood it. It was protocol but difficult to hear coming from a man that had not only been his peer throughout their respective military careers, but also his friend since high school. In private, they addressed each other by name but out here in the field they had to set an example and chain of command in front of the others.
Braden continued. “Ten-foot fence with cyclone wire. No visible sentries, so probably armed security inside.”
“Rent-a-cops, at best,” Cyrus replied.
“And probably not that many.”
“Intelligence says they walk rounds with e-point checks at regular intervals. That means they can’t cover the whole area at one time.”
“I’d concur with that assessment,” Braden agreed. “What’s your plan?”
“We have to assume a facility of that size will have full video-and audio-camera surveillance.” Cyrus turned to Braden. “I see a training opportunity here, Major. What do you think is the best course of action?”
Braden