During his fourteen years in the operational field, Larson had built the COPPERFIN espionage network, the massive, pervasive penetration of the entire State aerospace design, construction, and testing combine in the Russian Federation. Larson had personally recruited the first two Russian principal agents years earlier, one in India, the other in Brazil, who in turn had themselves recruited subsources in the Sukhoi, Mikoyan, Ilyushin, Tupolev, and Yakovlev design entities, all of which in 2006 had merged into OAK, Obyedinyonnaya Aviastroitelnaya Korporatsiya, the United Aircraft Corporation, located in the Krasnoselsky District in the central Moscow Okrug. Larson’s COPPERFIN agents regularly emptied the top-secret vaults of OAK to report on the advanced capabilities of fourth-and fifth-generation Russian fighters such as the Su-27, the MiG-29, and the new Sukhoi PAK FA. The US Air Force was ecstatic.
The administration’s intention to eventually jettison Alex Larson in favor of a DCIA more conformable to the White House’s pigeon-hearted foreign policy was stopped cold by howls from the Pentagon after the acquisition through the COPPERFIN network of the technical parameters of APFAR, Aktivnaya Fazirovannaya Antennaya Reshotka, the new Russian phased array radar, an inestimable prize. Next came the delivery of an actual Zvezda Kh-35U antiship missile, NATO designation KAYAK, but nicknamed the harpoonski because of its similarities to the US Harpoon missile. The Zvezda was brought across the Lithuanian border by a courier in the COPPERFIN network who bribed border guards to ignore the tail of the missile protruding from the broken-out back window of his UAZ Patriot, which was the only way he could fit the 520 kg, 380 cm missile into his compact SUV.
Immune from dyspeptic antagonists, DCIA Larson, in consultation with Simon Benford, launched his own active-measures campaign against the Putin regime—an offensive long overdue in the eyes of many to repay the Russians in their own coin for seven decades of disinformation, forgeries, and political meddling that was the Kremlin’s stock-in-trade. Larson became a vocal critic of Vladimir Putin’s Russian Federation, testifying in open committee sessions about congenital Russian use of active measures to influence political outcomes, mostly with mediocre results. He increased intel sharing with allied services, especially in Ukraine and the Baltics, which resulted in several flashy spy arrests of red-faced Russian intel officers. Their identities had been provided by DIVA and Larson had passed along his compliments to her via Benford. (The Director and DIVA had never met; Larson properly left the case in the able hands of Benford and company.)
After a career of working the Russian target, Larson understood the depredatory worldview of Vladimir Putin, and knew that the Kremlin would stop misbehaving only when the costs of Putin’s delinquency exceeded the perceived gains. Then came the explosive report: COPPERFIN assets smuggled out documentary proof of massive fraud in the OAK aerospace consortium. OAK had been set up by President Putin as an open joint-stock company combining Russian private and State-owned assets, the lion’s share of which disappeared into the pockets of favored cronies. Supported by Benford, Larson pushed the White House and the hand-wringing Department of State to publicize the corruption (citing foreign sources to protect internal assets), to denounce Russia in the United Nations, to levy sanctions on companies selling Russian commercial airliners, and to block any reinstatement of Russia to the G7. Reluctant to antagonize the Kremlin, the White House dithered, but finally acted at the urging of a bumptious Congress that had been briefed by the DCIA. Alex Larson was everywhere in town, pressing official Washington to bestir itself.
Benford huddled with Alex in Larson’s office. “Finally. This is an opening to discommode these coarse Slav fuckers,” Benford said. “We’re collecting comprehensive technical and military intelligence, and the negative international publicity will cow Putin, at least for a while. I only wish we could more accurately predict his reaction. Handling a cornered snake and so on, if you follow the metaphor.”
“As I recall, your metaphors used to be markedly more erudite,” said Alex, deadpan. “Perhaps DIVA will soon have better access to Putin’s plans and intentions if she becomes Director of SVR, assuming, of course, that your handling of her is as inspired as you claim it to be.”
Benford did not smile. “You can be sure that even in the absence of your signature flamboyant rococo operational style, the DIVA case is being managed securely.”
Larson laughed. “Is the young officer still primary handler? What was his name?”
“Nash, Nathaniel,” said Benford. “He is possibly going to assist the Australians in the Hong Kong operation I briefed you on last week. Marty Gable will hold DIVA’s hand in the interim.”
Larson’s nose was too good. “Any trouble?”
Benford shrugged. “The recruiting case officer and DIVA have a relationship that falls slightly outside the usual parameters.”
“Meaning what?” asked Alex.
“They are in love and are intimate, whenever circumstances allow,” said Benford. “Until now I have stayed my hand from firing Nash. I assess his separation from the service would have a significant effect on DIVA’s production.”
“How significant?” said Alex.
“As in she would quit. With Nash in Hong Kong for a few weeks and Gable to steady the asset, there are no immediate concerns.” The two men thought alike and the matter—and Nash’s future—was shelved for now.
Larson opened the file on his desk that contained Benford’s script for tomorrow’s briefing of POTUS and the NSC Principals Committee on CIA’s continued covert-action campaign against the Kremlin. He was silent as he read. “One misses the field,” he said, looking up.
Benford opened his file too. “The organization needs you behind this desk. You’ve had your debauch overseas for thirty years. Now you have to turn this pig’s breakfast back into a spy service.”
“Run through your notes for me,” said Alex.
Benford spoke briefly and succinctly. This brief was a matter of reassuring the jittery US president, and ensuring continued Pentagon support. Jamming a stick into Putin’s spokes at this time was critical, given his brazen interference on the world stage. He was emboldened by confusion and anxiety among Western governments. Publicly embarrassing the Kremlin would disrupt multiple Russian active measures in the Baltics, Europe, and in places like Montenegro. Russia’s moribund economy would be trebly stung by any publicized malfeasance within OAK, scaring away investors, reducing customers for Russian military material, constraining the military budget, and complicating Kremlin adventurism in Africa, Latin America, and the resource-rich Arctic. Twisting the Russian bear’s tail abroad, moreover, would distract the Kremlin and thus protect valuable assets, such as COPPERFIN. The Russians would be driven frantic in the face of withering international disparagement. The DCIA would politely insist that POTUS could not ignore the opportunity and must not remain quiescent.
“We’ll see how it works on him,” said Alex. “At least the top brass will support me.”
“Don’t worry, this will stir the hornets’ nest,” said Benford. He was correct, but he would set in motion events no one could have even remotely predicted.
* * *
* * *
The Russian reaction to the first American exposé was to cry provocation (ironic: the inveterate plotters always assumed their own misfortune was, naturally, the result of an outside plot). But the international embarrassment, and the innate Russian paranoia of being laughed at as manure-speckled kulaks and relegated to second-world status, drove Vladimir Putin into a rage, in part fueled by fright. This was how leaders were toppled. He summoned Gorelikov to his personal, most-isolated dacha in the town of Solovyevka, 130 kilometers outside Saint Petersburg, on the shore of Lake Komsomolsk. He wanted privacy and to be away from the prying eyes of his siloviki. They would smell his panic like the pack hunters they were. He trusted Gorelikov.