Catching a Lucky Break
Chapter 16
Jimmy Sanders’ cable was a blockbuster! He was our embassy Regional Security Officer in Victoria and someone I worked with before retiring. He’d struck pay dirt and was now awaiting my instructions as how to proceed. We believed Vlad had been located in the Seychelles. Pet and I thanked our lucky stars, along with Jimmy’s strong work ethic.
Jimmy described his subject as being a German national using the name Hans Vogel. From the best he could determine, Hans had been living on Mahe for the about five months and rarely ventured outside his rented house outside of Victoria. The neighbors who lived some distance away had never met him, but had noticed him working in his garden on occasion. Otherwise, he was an enigma.
Jimmy mentioned he wore a full beard, but in all other respects, was a doppelganger for Vlad. Pet and I thought we finally had our man and were excited about our next steps and prospects.
I cabled Jimmy, copying Jersey, instructing him to put a very loose surveillance on Vogel’s house so as not to inadvertently alert him to our attention. I told him at the first, safe opportunity to enter the house and lift as many latent fingerprints as possible, but not to disturb anything that might alert Vlad to the intrusion. I actually had to weasel-word this part due to the legalities of the illegal search. I innocently suggested that if, perchance, he found the front or back door unlocked he’d likely want to check on the welfare of the occupant. That’s what a good citizen would do under the circumstances, I rationalized. However, Jimmy would understand it was to be a black bag job, plain and simple. With the local cops tailing Vlad and watching Jimmy’s back, it should be a no brainer.
I knew Jersey would overlook my inappropriate, but expedient solution about the B&E. However, this wasn’t to be a criminal investigation leading to prosecution, but rather a cold, calculated assassination. If later questioned by his superiors, he’d feign ignorance, something he was very good at. He’d claim he wasn’t in the loop, what’s a loop? He’d smugly ask. He’d also assert he’d never visited Chicago, especially in winter when snow jobs were common. His bosses would probably accept his loopy answer. That’s how things often worked in the Diplomatic Security Service where plausible denial and bureaucratic doublespeak were traits prized above all things.
Lastly, I asked Jimmy if he could obtain a photo of his subject and scan it my attention at our embassy in Moscow. It wouldn’t be proof positive, but certainly helpful if it resembled Vlad.
After briefing Pet on Jimmy’s reporting, she immediately joked by saying she had to go home and pack her swimsuit, sandals and sunglasses for some fun in the sun.
“I thought you were grounded after your little mishap in London.”
“No, I can still travel abroad, but can’t be posted to any of our embassies since I’m a tainted, known quantity to the receiving states: a spy and therefore my usefulness and credibility would be about zip. Moreover, agreement wouldn’t be forthcoming from any host government.”
She used the French pronunciation of the word agreement, indicating the diplomatic term for acceptance of her proposed assignment to a country. It was usually reserved for the rank of chief of mission, but could be applied to lesser diplomats under very unusual circumstances.
“Okay, let’s celebrate our good news by having a drink after work. We deserve a break from the drudge work here, if nothing else. It’s my treat.”
“I’d love to, but unfortunately I have another engagement with a friend tonight: how about a rain check for later?”
“Sure Pet, no worries, let’s get together some other time.”
I’d just been stiff-armed and stood-up for a second date and I was disappointed. Maybe she had a boyfriend who she was meeting. I didn’t know, but for some strange reason I felt slightly jealous. With the lousy Moscow weather, it would be some time before she could cash her check.