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Chapter80
THEY ALL STAREDat the body lying on the floor of the kitchen.
“Damn,” exclaimed Mars, who had recovered from the cattle prod shock and had sat up, his back flat against the wall.
Decker looked up at Egorshin. “Why kill him?”
“It reduces complications for me.”
“Okay. Why a restaurant, of all things?”
“What better way to become ‘Americanized’? Interacting with the customers, you learn everything: slang, dialect, mannerisms, pop culture, sports. Americans love their sports. French fries! Social media etiquette. Simply becoming Americans. Back in Russia, it would have taken us years to accomplish what I was able to have my operatives do in a few months. It was simple, but most brilliant things have an underlying simplicity.”
“And the underground room?”
“Well, we couldn’t exactly do up in the restaurant what was required.”
“We saw the operating room.”
Egorshin waved his hand dismissively. “Some of my superiors still dwelled in the Cold War days. We rarely used it. Instead, we simply recruited from our assets those who already looked westernized.”
“It took us a while to figure out where the entrance was.”
“May I ask how you did so?”
“Space dimensions were off compared to the area outside the kitchen.”
Egorshin wagged his finger at Decker. “One of my men at the restaurant reported that you seemed overly interested in speaking with one of the wait staff. You were clearly a man to watch.”
“And to attempt to kill?” said Decker. “On the way back from Mitzi’s?”
“Forgive me, it is the usual way in which we deal with difficulties.”
“Eric Tyson and Karl Stevens had KI tats on their arms.”
“My father was privileged to work for the KI, and so we had some of our recruits get that tattoo. However, we hid it among many hate groups’ symbols to throw off detection.”
“Recruits?”
Egorshin held up his hand. “That goes beyond what I can say. It is a game, and you do the same to us. But let us never lose sight of the fact that it is a game with very real consequences.” He glanced at Gardiner’s body.
He sat back down and slipped the gun into his waistband.
Decker said, “One thing I don’t get. Mitzi said her husband placed people in high-end jobs, in law, finance, high tech, government.”
“And your point?”
“Even with the new identities and such, it would be difficult for your agents to survive a background check. You can create the right docs and all, paper the schools they went to, but the background check will go to where they attended school and lived, talk to old neighbors, relatives, teachers, coworkers, and all the rest.”
“That is true. And that is why we approached it in a different way.”
“How?”
“First of all, Mitzi had no idea what her husband really did. She only told you what she had been told. As a matter of fact, he didnotplace our people in these so-called high-end jobs. You’re right, the scrutiny would have been rather intense.”
“So what did you do then?”
Egorshin smiled. “‘Low-end’ jobs are much better sources for intelligence collection.”
