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What good would arguing with him do?
“Are you going to tell me what happened to Colonel Whatsisname and his sister?”
“That is the real question,” Murov said. “Eventually, General Sirinov learned that within hours of their scheduled arrival in Vienna, they were flown out of Schwechat on Lieutenant Colonel Carlos G. Castillo’s Gulfstream airplane. That was the last time anyone has seen them.”
“How did Castillo get involved?”
Murov shrugged.
“General Sirinov’s intention had been to present the arrest of Dmitri and Svetlana to Putin as a fait accompli. Now he had to report that not only were they not under arrest, but no one had any idea where they might be, although of course the CIA was presumed to be somehow involved.
“Putin—who, as I said, has known Dmitri and Svetlana for years—thought there was something fishy about the embezzlement charges and ordered Sirinov to have another look. Sirinov discovered Evgeny’s little scheme. Putin was furious, both personally and professionally.”
“What does that mean?” Whelan asked.
“In addition to his personal feelings about the injustice done to Colonel Berezovsky and Lieutenant Colonel Alekseeva, Putin knew that SVR officers all over the world were thinking, That could happen to me.”
“Including you, Sergei?”
“Well, since I’m not an SVR officer, no. But to answer what I think you’re asking, ‘Was the Washington rezident thinking that what happened to two fine SVR officers like Berezovsky and Alekseeva could happen to him?’ I happen to know he was. And Putin, knowing this, ordered that things be made right. If he could get through to Berezovsky and Alekseeva and get them to come home, and they were promoted ... If the injustice done to them ...”
“I get the point,” Whelan said.
Why am I starting to believe him?
“So Putin went to Vladlen Solomatin and told him what he wanted to do. And that letter was written. The problem then became how to get the letter to Berezovsky and his sister. The decision was made—by Putin personally—to go right to the top. So the Washington rezident invited Frank Lammelle to our dacha on the Eastern Shore—you know where I mean?”
Whelan nodded.
“And explained the situation, gave him the letter from Solomatin, and asked that he deliver it, and made it clear that his cooperation in the matter would not be forgotten.
“Lammelle, however, said he was sorry, but he didn’t think he could help, as much as he would like to. Then he related an incredible story. Castillo had had no authority to take Berezovsky and Alekseeva from Vienna. Castillo had never been in the CIA, but had been in charge of a private CIA—called the Office of Organizational Analysis, OOA—that your late President had been running. OOA was disbanded, and its members been ordered to disappear the day before you bombed the Congo. Lammelle said he had no idea where Castillo or Berezovsky and Alekseeva could be.”
“You’re right. That’s incredible,” Whelan said.
“What’s really incredible, Harry, is that the rezident believed Lammelle. They had over the years developed a relationship. In other words, they might say ‘No comment’ to one another, but they would not lie to one another. Over time, that has worked to their mutual advantage.”
Murov topped off their wineglasses.
“That’s why I asked you to dinner, Harry,” Murov said. “To propose something I think will be mutually advantageous.”
Whelan said, “‘And what would that be?’ Harry Whelan, suspicious journalist, asked, as he put one hand on his wallet and the other on his crotch.”
Murov chuckled.
“Your wallet, maybe, Harry. But I am really not interested in your crotch. Would you like me to go on, or should we just forget we ever had this conversation?”
“I’m all ears.”
“Putin wants this problem resolved. There is great pressure on the rezident to solve it. He came to me and said he thought the greatest obstacle to solving it is President Clendennen ...”
“Clendennen? He’s the obstacle? How’s that?”
“The rezident thinks the President just wants the problem to go away, and he thinks the President believes the best way to do that is to do nothing. His predecessor never told him a thing about the OOA. He has no idea what it is, or was. He’s never heard of Lieutenant Colonel Castillo, and therefore knows nothing of Castillo taking two Russian defectors away from the CIA, and if he did, he has no idea why, or what Castillo has done with the defectors. Getting the idea?”
“Yeah,” Whelan said. “So, what am I supposed to do about it?”
“Start looking for Castillo and the OOA ... at the White House. Ask Clendennen to tell you about his secret private CIA, and the man who runs it for him. When he tells you he knows nothing about it, ask him why you can’t find Castillo. Tell him you suspect he’s hiding Castillo, and that unless you can talk to Castillo and get a denial from him, that’s the story you’re going to write: ‘President Denies Knowledge of Secret Special Operations Organization.’”
