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“I’m the one in the field, Soraya,” she said now. “I think I’m better—”
“Stop right there. Morgana, listen to me. I threw you to the lions, it’s true. But this was a special circumstance. I had no one else.”
“Thanks very much!”
“You misunderstand. I had full confidence in you and what you’re capable of. But the truth is you lack training. I can’t allow you to remain in the field.”
“As you know I’m an ace at all firearms. What you don’t know is that my father—”
“A former SEAL. I’ve read his jacket. He was quite a fine one, brilliant, really.”
Now Morgana loved Soraya even more. “Yes. He trained me himself.” Another bit of silence. She could almost hear Soraya thinking, recalculating, recalibrating the conversation. “Plus, really, when you think about it, my job at Meme LLC was to solve puzzles—the most difficult puzzles, I might add, puzzles that stumped others in my area of expertise. I find that the field is no different; it’s a matter of solving puzzles.”
“No, it’s very different, Morgana. In the field you’re constantly in harm’s way.”
“I find I like that.” This time the silence was tense and brittle. She was about to say, I’m staying, no matter what you say, but she felt the wrongness of it. Her mouth could lead her down a bad path with a bad ending. Instead, she said: “But I’ll come home.” Hearing her father’s voice in one ear, she waited a beat before adding, “If that’s what you think is best.”
Silence. Then: “You’re a very clever girl.”
“Thank you.”
“I took a lot of chances with your brief. What if your friend Françoise didn’t come through with her promise? I would have pulled you out of custody. You were never in any real danger as long as you were here in D.C.”
“But once I came here, to Kalmar, I was in the real lions’ den.” Now was the time, she thought, to push it. “What you must understand is that I’ve become one of them now—a lion. Like my father.”
“I appreciate the confidence you’ve gained, but I fear you’re overreaching. You’ll be going up against Gora Maslov, a hardened grupperovka boss. He’ll eat you for breakfast.”
“I don’t think so,” Morgana said, a thrill down her spine: she had won. “I have a way in.”
“And what might that be?”
“The point is both Fran—Alyosha and Rozin were deeply interested in the Bourne Initiative, the code for which, I should add, I’ve not been able to crack. And now I don’t think I or anyone outside the Russian team that General Karpov hand-picked to design it will.”
“That’s of no importance now,” Soraya said. “The Bourne Initiative is nothing more than noise, Russian disinformation.”
“What? It most certainly is not. The Initiative is real. I’ve been working on fragments of it and—”
“Getting nowhere, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“All meant for us to chase our tails like idiots. I got this directly from Marshall Fulmer, the new national security advisor, and he ought to know.”
“I don’t know where he’s getting his intel from, Soraya, but I’m telling you it’s bogus.”
“An intercept of the Russian Unit 309. I’ve seen the pages, Morgana. They’re authentic.”
“They’re authentic, all right. Authentic disinformation,” Morgana said forcefully. “I know those code fragments are real beyond any shadow of a doubt. Do you know how? I found a legitimate zero-day trigger embedded in every one of the fragments I pulled out of the dark net. That’s the only thing I was able to decode, but it’s vital.”
Another silence on the line, longer this time, the tension ratcheted up a couple of notches. “I’m listening. Continue.”
“I’m damn good at my job. Don’t you think I’d be able to spot fake code, no matter how well put together? No, the Bourne Initiative is real, and it’s a ticking time bomb with an unknown target.”
“Okay. Let’s say you’re right. I can’t go to the higher-ups and tell them that based on what you’ve said. Fulmer will swat me down like a gnat. I just got this position; until I prove myself I’ve got to watch my p’s and q’s. I can’t rock the boat.”
“Then don’t tell anyone. We’ll act together.”
“The two of us won’t be enough.”
“Working alone is essential in this instance.”
“So you’ve said. You sound like the one person I believe can help us without physically interfering with whatever you have in mind with Gora. And he knows Gora. Though he knew his father even better. In fact, he was involved with General Karpov in killing Dimitri Maslov.”
“Who are we talking about?”
“Jason Bourne.”
Morgana looked around, as if they had just now entered top-secret territory. The interior of the plane was still and serene, no one in her vicinity to overhear her end of the conversation. She returned her attention to Soraya half a world away. “I don’t understand.”
“Remember a few years back when Bourne was accused of trying to assassinate the former president, and it turned out he’d saved him instead?”
“Sure.”
“That was because of me—Sonya and I, who were being held captive.”
Morgana gave a gasp. “When your husband was killed.”
A small hesitation. “Yes.”
“I’m so sorry, Soraya. All over again so sorry.”
“Thank you. But to get back to Bourne, he and I go way back. We were in the field together.”
“So you’re former colleagues.”
“More than that. Let’s just say I know him more than well.”
“Huh!”
Soraya laughed, dry and rough as sand. “Well put.”
“I’ve been wanting to speak with him ever since Mac sent me the first fragment of Initiative code. If anyone knows about the Initiative it’s got to be Bourne.” Morgana’s excitement was ramping up. “You know how to get in touch with him?”
“No, but I know someone who does. A man right here in D.C. by the name of Deron.”
“Do you have Deron’s number? I’ll call him the moment we hang up.”
“Deron won’t talk to you, let alone tell you how to get in touch with Bourne,” Soraya said. “No, Deron knows me. I’ll call him.”
“I’ll sit tight, then.”
“Back to the Initiative itself. You don’t know what it’s meant to do?”
“No.”
“Do you know when the zero-day trigger is set for?”
“Yes. Forty hours from now.” Morgana took a breath. “Another reason why I need to stay here.”
“Bourne may not know this. He needs to.”
“Yes.”
“Now tell me what you have in mind.” Soraya’s voice was sharp and clear, which told Morgana a great deal about her. Unlike the other mandarins who ran various clandestine services whom she had met or had to deal with, Soraya was flexible. As a former field agent, she knew that you were sometimes required, or forced, to pivot on a dime in order to react to or take advantage of the changing situation in the field.
Morgana had had all night to think about a plan and Natalie to talk it over with. She knew she couldn’t get to Gora Maslov on her own. “Maslov must be involved in the Bourne Initiative. That’s why Alyosha went to see him. Why else would he be here in this Swedish backwater at the same time as Alyosha and Nikolay, with them presumably helping me break the code? And if I’m right and they are all in it together, then he is our chance to get to the Initiative before its inner clock detonates.”
Silence on the line, just the hollowness, the faint arrhythmic clicking of the security programs that shielded their conversation from electronic spying.
“All of this tracks,” Soraya said. “The bits of mysterious code you’ve pulled off the dark web could be enticements—coming attractions, you might say. In that event, the Bourne Initiative is going to be auctioned off to the highest bidder, imminently.”
?
??And I believe Gora will be one of the bidders. Now you can see why physical backup is the last thing I need. The more of our people here, the better the chance of Gora becoming suspicious.”
“Lord, what have I unleashed in you?”
“The law of unintended consequences, that’s what,” Morgana said. “And it’s not your doing. Sooner or later I think this was bound to happen.”
“I think it’s my good luck, then.” The sound of what might be Soraya shuffling papers. “You’ll need some form of backup, Morgana.”
“I’ve got you. You’re all I need.”
Soraya laughed. “You’re really a piece of work.”
“It’s the only way I know how to be now. And for better or for worse, I have you to thank for that.”
Soraya sighed. “Hold on.” Several moments passed with only the hollowness and the electronic clicking. When she returned, she said, “Give me three hours. I’ll have a secured Bluetooth earwig and a pair of earrings couriered to you from our Stockholm office.”
“Earrings?”
Soraya laughed again. “The transmitter for the earwig is in one of them. Don’t lose it.”
“There are a couple of other things I need, stat.”
“Name them.” Morgana did. “You’ll have them.” Then Soraya’s tone altered. “And Morgana?”
“Yes?”
“I won’t forget this.”
“Is that good or bad?” Morgana asked, but Soraya Moore had already disconnected.
—
“I am to use Dima Orlov’s name with you, Mr. Bourne.”
Bourne sat forward. “Why?”
“He and I are working together.”
The Angelmaker laughed. “Dima Orlov working with the first minister?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“I’m not here as first minister,” Savasin said. “I did not seek out Dima as first minister, but as the brother of Konstantin, who has plans to capture you, Mr. Bourne. Capture you, torture you, then kill you.”
“Many have tried,” Bourne said.
“Konstantin is a snake. He’s ruthless and devious. He lives to create diabolical traps. I beg you not to underestimate him.”
“More people have died underestimating their enemy than I care to count.” Bourne waved the Strizh back and forth. “I wouldn’t concern myself with that.”
“But I do, Mr. Bourne. Very much so. Your safety, your knowledge is critical, Dima believes, to finding the codes for the Initiative, for keeping them out of the hands of maniacs like Konstantin.”
“Of course my help is critical,” Bourne said. “According to General MacQuerrie, Dima Orlov is the one who stole the Initiative right after Boris was murdered.”
“What? But that’s impossible.”
“Why?” Bourne said. “Why is it impossible, Timur?”
“Katya said that he and General Karpov were good friends.”
“Maybe that’s true,” Bourne said, “but the Angelmaker here knows that Boris’s death set the two remaining partners against each other. You see, Boris was the peacemaker. Both Dima and MacQuerrie trusted him, but it seems they didn’t trust each other. Now only Dima is left, and Dima has the Initiative.”
“Then why did he rope me in?” Savasin shook his head. “What does he need me for?”
“Did he contact you, Timur?”
“No. I went to him.”
“Why would you do that?” Bourne asked.
“Because my brother…” Savasin’s voice trailed off as his thoughts transferred onto another track.
“Konstantin, yes. Dima needs you as protection against the threat your brother presents to him. Konstantin is a threat to you; that’s how he roped you in.”
“And you,” Savasin said. “Why did he send me to find you?”
“Friends close,” Bourne said. “Enemies closer.”
Bourne lowered the pistol, set it down between him and Mala. He gestured. “Take a pew, Timur. It’s true confession time.”
—
And so for the first time in his life, including when he was a little boy, Timur Savasin sat down and spoke honestly. He could not remember when he had learned to lie about everything—the moment, or time, was too distant for him to dredge up. But he knew the habit was formed as a response to Konstantin, a kind of protection from the malefic entity his parents had given life to.
And in talking honestly he experienced an enormous sense of relief, as of a terrible weight being lifted from his shoulders, as if his brother had consigned him to the role of Atlas, the weight of the world crushing him every waking moment, from which he had finally freed himself.
“The ironic thing,” he said, after he had recounted his meeting with Dima and Katya in great detail, “is after having spent so many years hating and fearing Boris Karpov, I now feel as if I’m moving into his orbit. Konstantin covets General Karpov’s position and power, and I know I must do everything in my power to stop him. Karpov was a humanist, Dima and Katya have opened my eyes to that. And now I am eager for the opportunity to understand his friendship with you, Mr. Bourne. Perhaps that is the one good thing that will come out of the dire straits we all find ourselves in, sparked by General Karpov’s cyber Initiative, which has come to be known by both the Americans and us as the Bourne Initiative.
“Dima and Katya believe that you are the key to retrieving the codes. They are convinced that Karpov must have left some clue for you that will lead you to it, because it’s clear to me that none of the original three partners, two of whom are dead, know what happened to it.”
“If, as MacQuerrie believed, Dima hijacked the Initiative, then there is something—some key element—missing from it, and they think I have it,” Bourne said.
“Do you?”
“No,” Bourne said. “Boris left me his boat, which was sunk by the Americans. That’s it.”
“Well, that’s disappointing.”
“When it comes to Boris, people have gotten everything wrong. He would never have created a cyber weapon aimed at the United States. Knowing Boris as I did, I never believed that bit of fiction. What was his aim, then? MacQuerrie said that the code was meant to freeze the security systems of the largest international banks, allowing the three of them access to all the banks’ accounts. MacQuerrie believed they were on the cusp of pulling off an electronic theft of unprecedented proportions.”
Savasin’s eyes narrowed. “I am no novice in reading between the lines, Mr. Bourne. There is something about General MacQuerrie’s explanation that doesn’t ring true to you.”
“Not exactly,” Bourne replied. “My sense is this. Boris loved money as much as the next person, more maybe. But he wasn’t about to steal from anyone and everyone; that simply went against his grain. So what then? First, I believe Boris was getting ready to leave Russia. He had just gotten married; he had no other family left alive. When he left Russia on his honeymoon, he couldn’t be pressured to return. He and his wife weren’t coming back.
“So if we accept this scenario, which I do, where was Boris going to get his drop-dead money? He was well off, but not an oligarch by any means; he was unbribable. No, the cyber Initiative was meant to allow him to pick and choose, to take from the terrorist leaders and criminals who were housing their money in those banks whose coffers would be open to him. That plan is Boris Karpov to a T.”
“Then he was murdered.”
“Which set off a power struggle between the two remaining partners,” the Angelmaker said.
“During which someone made off with the codes,” Bourne continued. “He or she has them and now means to auction them off to the highest bidder, someone who doesn’t have Boris’s sense of morality.”
Savasin raked his fingers through his hair. “They’ve created a very deep pit, indeed.”
“Add another ‘very,’” Bourne said. “MacQuerrie told me that while Boris meant the codes to freeze banks’ security software, the Initiative could be directed at the deepest secrets of a sovereign nation.”
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“Like the United States.”
“Or the Russian Federation.”
“The stars are aligning.” Savasin smiled. “You see, Mr. Bourne, you and I are moving toward the kind of détente you shared with General Karpov for many years.”
Mala grunted in clear derision.
“I think it’s safe to say,” Bourne said, “that we’re nowhere close to a détente, Timur.”
Savasin nodded, keeping his expression neutral. “As you wish. But now I must tell you something, and from what you’ve told me the truth of it is unclear. Dima said that there is a timer set into the Initiative.”
“A timer?”
“Yes. A zero-day trigger, he called it.”
Both Bourne and Mala knew what a zero-day trigger was.
“Did he tell you when the exploit will activate?”
Savasin shook his head. “He claimed not to know. But he also said that the day was close. Very close.”
Mala looked from Bourne to Savasin and back again. “There are two things Dima can do with the Initiative if he can retrieve the codes. He can use it for himself, or he can set up an international auction. Can you imagine how much such a cyber weapon would fetch on the clandestine network that terrorist leaders, demagogues, and heads of state of evil intent inhabit?” Her gaze returned to Savasin. “That group would include your Sovereign, First Minister, you know that, right?”
“It would also include my brother,” Savasin replied. “He’s doing everything in his power to get his hands on the Initiative.” Savasin leaned forward, elbows on knees. “To do so, I guarantee that he’s going to cross any and all lines he feels he needs to. Sooner or later, Konstantin always gets what he wants.”
37
I’m only doing this for the money.” Natalie, the young woman Morgana had spoken to after she had debarked from Gora’s boat, swept her blond hair behind her ear. “I have a toddler. She was at my aunt’s the night you slept over.”
