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“That’s General Yakov Vladimirovich Sirinov,” Svetlana said. “Which tells us that Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin is indeed behind all this.”
“Behind all what?” García-Romero asked. “May I ask?”
“Right now, Tío Héctor ...” Castillo began and then stopped when another man, this one in a business suit, came down the ramp, and again the camera moved in for a close-up.
“That’s Valentin Borzakovsky,” García-Romero said.
“Why do I think he didn’t just come from Venezuela?” Castillo asked.
“A fuel stop at friendly José Martí International Airport?” Tarasov said.
“I’d bet Ciego de Ávila,” Castillo said. “They wouldn’t want the Tu-934A to be seen at José Martí.”
“You’re right, that’s more likely,” Tarasov said.
“Where Whatsisname ... Bora-something?”
“Borzakovsky, Valentin Borzakovsky,” Svetlana furnished, a touch of impatience or resignation in her voice.
“... where he boarded FSB Airlines Flight 007, one-stop—here at Drug Cartel International—service to Maiquetía International Airport in the People’s Democratic Republic of Venezuela.”
Tarasov and Barlow chuckled.
Barlow then said: “I don’t think Hugo Chávez would want the Tu-934A ... I rephrase: I don’t think General Sirinov would want—as much as Hugo would want it to put it on display—the Tu-934A to be seen at Maiquetía. Maybe the Santo Domingo Air Base?”
“More likely La Orchila,” Svetlana said. “That’s on an island. And it’s a pretty decent air base. The runways will take a 747, and Chávez has moved all the civilians off the island.”
“Which would add to the security,” Barlow agreed.
“If you Russians have no ambitions in the Caribbean, how come you know so much about all the military airfields?”
“Charley, my darling, Alek is right,” Svetlana said. “You really have a sophomoric sense of humor.”
“My precious, I’ll bet you don’t even know what a sophomore is.”
“The term probably has its roots, my precious darling, in one of the late sophist Dialogues of Plato, but what it means is ‘tricky and superficially plausible, ’ so therefore a sophomore is someone who is tricky and superficial, with emphasis on superficial. Does the shoe fit?”
“Not at all, my precious beloved darling. A sophomore is a second-year student at a college or university. You really should try to be sure of your facts before you open your adorable mouth to challenge your intellectual betters.”
Svetlana made a gesture to Charley involving the use of the index fingers on both hands held in upward position.
Tom Barlow laughed out loud.
“You will pay for that, Charley,” he said.
“Look what’s coming down the ramp,” Tarasov said.
Monitor Fourteen showed a tracked front-loader rolling off the Tu-934A’s ramp. Two blue plastic vessels, looking not unlike beer kegs, were suspended from its arms.
It moved to the rear of one of the Expeditions and, under the watchful eyes of General Sirinov and one of the ninjas, was carefully loaded into it.
Then it moved to the second Expedition, where the process was repeated.
General Sirinov held a brief conversation with the man who had helped him supervise the loading of the barrels; Pavel Koslov, the Mexico City rezident; and Valentin Borzakovsky, the Venezuelan “businessman.”
Then they all shook hands, except for the ninja, who first saluted and then shook hands. Koslov got back in his Mercedes and immediately drove off. Borzakovsky and the ninja and two others got in one of the Expeditions, and four of the ninjas in the other.
The Expeditions drove off.
