Pulling My Strings Along with My Hair
Chapter 25
Jersey had been emailing me little messages, inanities really, to prod me to speed up the investigation to stop Vlad’s insanities. Time is money he’d say or three strikes and you’re out; just some nonsense to irritate me into taking action. However, Jersey would never pull the plug on this one since he was too personally invested in its outcome. As to his disingenuous concern about taxpayer money, it was laughable. He could care less about the money unless it was coming out of his own pocket.
As the puppet master, he was simply pulling my strings while perched in his comfy catbird seat back home. It was vintage Jersey and nothing more. I finally replied and told him it ain’t over till it’s over. He’d appreciate the Yogi quote. I could have said till the fat lady sings, but I already used the line earlier and he wouldn’t have gotten it anyhow. He was tone deaf and had no ear for anything that didn’t speak to his ego, career or self promotion.
Pet had left for downtown Kampala and a visit to her embassy’s residency. She’d done the same in Nairobi and wondered what she might be up to. And end run, perhaps? I hoped not because we had worked well together and I couldn’t stand the thought she might be playing her own game with her partner.
I assumed she was simply doing routine reporting to her bosses as to the status of the case, just like my periodic missives to Jersey. We both had taskmasters to satisfy, so maybe that’s all there was to it. However, the old saw about a little paranoia being a healthy thing sprang to mind and I was now having second thoughts and doubts about her. Shame on me or her, I wasn’t certain which of us!
She returned to our hotel a little after 4 p.m. and knocked on my door. She seemed all wound up and acted like a little girl on Christmas morning. Something big was on her mind and she couldn’t wait to tell me. Was it possible she had somehow converted to the heterosexual side of life during our short time together overseas? I knew I had a certain animal magnetism about me that may have overcome her sexual orientation and dysfunction. Anything was possible when it came to women, I mused.
And the more I thought about it, the more I believed it possible. My testosterone levels had always been off the charts and wondered if my randy pheromones had had a life altering effect on her brain chemistry. It made sense in a nonsensical way, at least to me. Perhaps my given name worked its magic as well. I’m sure she’d rolled it over in her mind and tongue on more than one occasion. However, I didn’t believe Avery was a likely turn-on, but maybe I was mistaken. I couldn’t help it because I simply had that sexual charisma and effect on women. But my assumption about Pet’s change of heart was soon to be shattered.
“Dick!” she blurted out as I hastily jumped to the wrong conclusion that she was demanding sex right here and now.
“Dick!” she persisted as I was about to lower my zipper and make a complete fool of myself in front of her. I worried that size did matter in such situations and afraid I’d come up short.
“Dick, they found him!” she exclaimed while skipping around my bed in her excitement.
“Who’s that, Vlad?” I asked.
“No, not Vlad, you silly goose, but the mole, but you’re close. No cigar though.”
Good God, goose and cigar, the intrusive, kinky act and phallic symbolism were just too damn obvious. I didn’t want to believe Freud’s statement that sometimes a cigar was just a cigar. No, Pet was talking dirty and leading me on for sex. Maybe I still had a shot. I could feel it in my bone.
“We’ve been talking about a mole in one of our organizations that had direct access to what we were doing and planning. It seemed to me it was more likely someone in the SVR was leaking information on our investigation to Vlad. It was in Moscow where we laid out the plans and had the photos and fingerprints examined and not Washington. It was only logical that the source was there, right under our noses.”
“As you know, I’ve visited the SVR residencies during our trip. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I was doing, but if our mole was working in the SVR, it was up to me and my colleagues to find him. And we did. Hold onto your hat because you won’t believe this. It’s beyond incredible!”
I was wrong about Pet doing an end-run around me after all. However, I didn’t have a hat to hold onto and didn’t understand the Russian colloquilism anyway. So I sat on the edge of the bed looking like a down-on-its-luck puppy dog. I felt that way too!
“The mole is Vasily Anosov who’s now under arrest and charged with treason. He didn’t have to move far from his office on the sixth floor to a holding cell in a subbasement of the Lubyanka. He is, now was, a captain in the SVR working in the photo recognition unit where we sent Vlad’s pictures for identification. Jeez, can you believe that bit of bad luck on our part?”
“But there’s more and this is where it really gets bizarre. He’s Vladimir Booskowsky’s son!”
I fell back on the bed hearing the last part and didn’t bother to undress. Too damn modest, I guess. But with Pet’s earlier Dick teasing and sexual innuendo, I’d have a bone to pick with her later.
“How did your people find him?” I weakly asked from my comfortable supine position.
“I’m not certain, but it had to do with IP addresses and technical wizardry that connected him to the correspondence with his father. The arrogant, careless bastard had used his office computer to send them. Go figure. It was then a matter for the sleuths to search his computer for any data fingerprints and they found them.”
“The rest was easy. He immediately broke down and confessed to what he’d done, trying to explain his motive. It had something to do with the relationship with his father. It was an extremely complex and odd one according to my contacts at headquarters. The shrinks will try to figure it out, I’m sure. ”
“But no matter, Vasily is now cooperating and will continue to correspond with his father, but under our direction. He fully knows that if he tries anything funny he’ll be executed rather than imprisoned.”
“However, there was one odd thing his warders noticed after he was arrested and strip searched: Two nasty wounds on his left thigh that he didn’t seek treatment for at the SVR medical office. That would be the normal course of action since the treatment is free. The gashes were infected and must have been painful. The warders asked how he suffered the injuries, but he said he couldn’t remember. Of course, they didn’t believe him, although they didn’t see any relevance to our investigation.”
I stayed mute and congratulated Pet on the major breakthrough. We now seemed to have the upper hand in this game of hide and seek. It was a nice turnabout.
“One more thing,” Pet mentioned. We can cancel our plans for Dubai because Vlad’s not there any longer. He’s in Saudi Arabia. His son claimed he didn’t know the target there and my superiors tended to believe him.”
So it would be off to the hot sands of Saudi Arabia. I felt I could play the role of Lawrence and Dick at the same time, both with equal aplomb. For one role, I’d have to be in mufti, but didn’t know where it was located. Arabic words could be so confusing to the language challenged, uninitiated or totally ignorant. Take your pick, but I saw myself riding a great white stead across the vast sand dunes of Arabia and smiting the bad guy with my scimitar.
Vlad was my target and I couldn’t help but admire my horsing around and willful pursuit of him. Perhaps I’d let my imagination and desires run wild in trying to catch him. Perhaps I’d forgotten to take my lithium carbonate too. Regardless, my imagination and mania knew no bounds at the moment!