Following Jan’s suggestion, the President had the NSA search their computers for phone calls using the word sounding like ‘you-datcha’. The computers came up with too many hits to be useful, mostly from people speaking Russian, so the techs quickly added a filter, amending the search for ‘you-datcha’, followed by another foreign word or phrase, and then accompanied by words in English.
With a few more filters added, it didn’t take them long to find what they were searching for. When ‘you-datcha’ was followed by ‘knee-noes-nuh’, the Russian term for ‘not necessary’, they’d found their code word and coded reply and could then zero in on the people who were using those words in combination.
The NSA determined there were two members of the CIA who were involved in the conspiracy and three in the UK government. There were twenty other people using those words, one a prominent member of the Russian Politburo.
The supposition was that Russia was looking to weaken the strategic-defense relationship between the U.S. and UK and at the same time assist in the formation of a new UK government that was much friendlier to Russia and would ease back on its sanctions.
Russia denied any involvement in the conspiracy, which was expected. But a tape was made of a Russian official using the ‘knee-noes-nuh’ reply to ‘you-datcha’, and it was played in the UN. The Russian contingent walked out, trying to show disgust with the charge, but in doing so also removed any doubt that the conspiracy had begun at and involved persons working at the Kremlin. It seemed likely it had originated there.
The UN voted to place additional sanctions on Russia. With the Russian economy already hurting, it was thought possible that the new sanctions were enough to cause the economy to collapse. There was talk about fundamental changes in Russian leadership occurring, with the old guard being replaced with moderates and progressives.
Arrests of conspirators were made in the U.S. by the FBI and in England by MI5. Interpol nabbed individuals who’d fled to other countries. The only person in the conspiracy to escape arrest was Ashastova. His whereabouts were unknown, though it was felt he hadn’t left the U.S. All commercial airports had been and were being monitored, and the exit points on the borders had been put on alert for him. The FBI and local authorities throughout the country were looking for Ashastova.
> ( <
With the end of the conspiracy, Jackson and Jan were at loose ends. Jackson’s job at the CIA was still open for him, but he was a different person now, and sitting at a desk working as a trainee analyst no longer held much allure for him. After his epiphany, he’d taken charge of things in London enough to see what he was capable of, and he liked how that had felt.
He was trying to decide what to do with his life and was thinking of Jan, too. Jan wanted to remain in the U.S. He had no job to return to in Europe, and the fact remained that he and Jackson got along well, were a good team, and liked each other. Jackson wasn’t about to abandon him.
After meeting with the President, Ryan had told them that they’d be witnesses in trials of conspiracy figures, notably the ones who’d done the killings on the boat in the Kattegat Bay, and if Ashastova was ever apprehended, of him as well. He said while they were deciding what came next for each of them, it was felt with all the arrests that had been made, they were no longer under threat and there was no need to continue to stay in the safe house. Instead, the government would pay for an apartment for them in Washington, DC, so they’d be on hand and available for upcoming trials as needed.
Ryan found them a place, the Tunlaw Apartments on Tunlaw Road in northwest Washington, DC, not far from the White House. Jan was excited when he first saw the apartment; he’d never lived in such a nice place.
Jackson and Jan enjoyed living with each other. They spent a lot of time together, taking in the sights, often talking about whatever came to mind. Many of the discussions focused on what each wanted out of life and how they’d attain it.
“I don’t know what I want,” Jan said as they were digging into a dinner Jackson had fixed. They were making a habit of eating frozen dinners from the grocery store. Jackson had a little money; Jan had none. Jan had told him to hit up Ryan for an allowance, that they couldn’t be expected to live on air while waiting to be star witnesses. Jackson had been reluctant to do so but was getting tired of the food they were eating. He agreed to talk to the man the next time they met.
Ryan was staying in touch with them; they had dinner plans the next evening. Jackson planned to ambush him then.
They ate at Laredo on Ordway Street, a Tex-Mex place with patio seating. The music drowned out their conversation from being overheard at nearby tables.
“Jan says I should hit you up for a living allowance,” Jackson said, then grinned at Jan.
“Hey, we’re staying here to convenience you,” Jan said when Ryan frowned. “It’s only right. Otherwise, we’d be off to Los Angeles to be action stars in films. I’d play the lonely waif who secretly knows karate and saves the day with skill and bravado.”
“Yeah, of course you would.” Ryan rolled his eyes, making Jan laugh. “Okay, you’re right, you do need funding. I’ll see to it. Probably a grand a month is enough as we’re paying for your apartment. I’m pretty sure I can get that approved. You knowing the President makes this sort of thing much easier.” He took a sip of his drink, then asked, “Either of you know what you want to do when this is over?”
“We’ve been discussing that. Jan has no idea. I know being an analyst, even for the CIA, isn’t what I want. What I just went through . . . well, I’ve changed. I want to do something more exciting than sitting at a desk analyzing what other people are doing. I want a real challenge.”
“How about the FBI? Become a special agent. We’re always looking for candidates. You’ve already been vetted by the CIA and passed their screening. That would make you eligible for the FBI. Most applicants that get hired have college degrees in one of two areas: accounting or finance is one, and criminal justice is the other. But the only hiring requirement the FBI has is a college degree. You have that along with much more actual experience in the field than most of these guys. You were in a couple of shootouts, and you survived. The judgments you make under fire, your decisions, they were all copacetic. First-rate. We, the FBI, would love to have you, and I can promise you, you won’t be stuck behind a desk with a mountain of paper in front of you.”
Jackson’s broad grin complemented the sparkle in his eyes. “That sounds perfect. I’ll apply. What happens then?”
“You train in Quantico, Virginia. Takes about 20 weeks. It’s arduous training, but I’ll tell
you, I enjoyed it. You’re more than smart enough, just the right age, and motivated. Hell, if could make it,
you can.”
Jackson thought for a moment, and his smile ebbed. “I’d live at the training facility for 20 weeks?”
“Yeah. It’s rigorous but nothing beyond you.”
“But if I’m away, what happens to Jan? He’s living here, and he doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”
Ryan looked at Jan, who wasn’t smiling at all. He paused in thought. Eventually, he said, “We still need Jan for the trials that are coming. You’ll need a place to live after you’ve become a special agent. I’m sure you’ll be assigned to duty here in DC to make you readily available as a trial witness as well, so giving up the apartment would be silly. I’ll see you keep it while you’re in training, and Jan can stay here.”
He turned to Jan. “Can you live on your own for four to five months? It’ll be lonely, but the allowance Jackson is getting now can come to you. He won’t need it while training.”
Jan was looking happier now. “Sure. I want to stay, and lonely? I’ve been lonely pretty much forever. Jackson’s the one true friend I’ve ever had. I can spend the time discovering Washington and maybe get an idea of what I want to do with my life. I’ll be fine.”
Then he turned to Jackson. “Thanks for being concerned about me.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but then blushed and didn’t. It was the first time Jackson had ever seen him show that kind of emotion.
Jackson’s application for becoming an FBI special agent was accepted. He’d be leaving for training at Quantico in a week.
> ( <
“This is crazy!” Jan complained.
“No, it’s survival,” Jackson said through his gasps.
They were jogging, which they’d been doing every morning since their dinner with Ryan.
“I need to be in shape for the training program. Going through that without being in shape first would be crazy.”
“Yeah, but why five-thirty in the morning?”
“It’s cooler now than it’ll be later in the day, and getting up early is good for you. Stop whining. This is good exercise.”
Jackson was running laps around the Ellipse and had been for over a week now. Jan reluctantly accompanied him. The past couple of days, Jackson had picked up the pace. There were other joggers there as well; it was Jackson’s desire to be the fastest one on the Ellipse. Part of his change of attitude, first decided when in bed at Knowles House, was to become more competitive. He hadn’t had that drive before. Now he did.
They finally stopped, sat down in the grass, and drank from water bottles they’d brought with them. When he’d regained his breath, Jackson asked Jan a question.
“You thought any more about what you want to do? You’re 15, going on 16. Plenty of time; no real pressure yet.”
Jan just shook his head, looking frustrated.
“You want a suggestion?”
“From you, sure. You know me better than anyone else.”
“I think you should finish school. You have the time now, no distractions, no need to work to pay your way. You’re really bright, Jan, bright and insightful, and it’s easier to put that to good advantage with academic credentials supporting you. They show you’re more than smart, that you have determination, stamina and tenacity.”
“You think so? I can’t see myself going back to high school. Those people seem like kids to me, and I don’t feel like a kid. And dress codes and gym classes and telling me when to eat lunch—all those rules—no, I don’t think I’d fit in there very well at all.”
“Yeah, maybe not. You are an independent cuss. You’re also much more mature than the normal kid in high school. Well, it was just an idea.”
“Yeah, and thanks. I’m planning to just lop around the city while you’re away, getting to know the place. Maybe just seeing what’s out there; maybe that’ll give me an idea about what I’d like to do.”
> ( <
The graduation ceremony at Quantico was filled with family and friends of new special agents. Jan and Ryan were sitting in the front row. Being a close personal friend of the President had its perks, and Ryan wasn’t reluctant to take advantage of the ones that didn’t make him seem special or to be taking advantage.
Jan watched Jackson take the oath, walk up on stage for a handshake, and then the presentation of his credential and his badge. Jackson was among the group of new special agents who vigorously applauded the speakers and the presentations, joining in with all the others attending the ceremony.
Jackson was sky-high riding home with Jan, the first time he’d be at the apartment since he’d left for training. He told Jan about his experiences, the grueling trials and the bonding with other trainees he’d experienced.
“This is the thing I’m proudest of that I’ve done in my life,” he said.
“Not saving the Prime Minister’s job. And his son’s life? And your brother’s. And mine?”
“That just sort of happened. It was like I just fell into that, and you did more than I did.” Jackson looked over at Jan and shook his head. “You’re really amazing. I hope you find what you want to do, like I have.”
Jan had news as well, and when Jackson had talked himself out, Jan spoke softly, like he didn’t want to intrude on Jackson’s moment. “I have some news, too. I have decided what I want to do.”
Jackson was immediately attentive. “That’s great, Jan. What’s it going to be?”
“I decided of all the jobs I could think of, the one I’d like most would be in law enforcement. But I don’t want to be a beat cop. I want to be a detective. And I did some research. Your quickest route to that in a police department is if you have a college degree.”
“Ah, you’ve decided to return to school then. Good for you!”
“There’s more.” Jan snickered at him.
“Oh? Okay, what?”
“I still hate the idea of finishing high school. So, I called Ryan. I told him I wanted to get a college degree in Criminal Justice, but I didn’t want to go the normal route, meaning through high school. I wanted to go to college right away.”
“Fat chance of that!”
“No, you’re forgetting where we are. This might be the most political city in the country, and Ryan’s positioned to do most anything; he can accomplish miracles. He’s not only the President’s friend; he’s his fixer. He called around to various colleges to see what was possible. He may have mentioned the President’s name. I’m not sure about that. But he found all the colleges wanted at least a GED. That’s a Graduate Equivalency Degree. So he arranged for me to get one of those. I passed the test with flying colors. It wasn’t that difficult. Then I went looking at colleges around here. Do you know how many there are? Lots. That’s how many.
“Anyway, I wanted one close to our apartment, and there were two of those, American University and Georgetown U, that had the degree I want. I applied to both and was accepted as a freshman. I’ve been taking classes since the term began in August. I’m doing fine—I’m enjoying it, actually. Challenging, but with work, doable. I don’t mind working.”
“Which school?.”
“Georgetown. I can walk there. Don’t need a car. I might get a bike. A lot of the students ride bikes.”
“You got into Georgetown? Wow!.”
Jan looked a little embarrassed. “I think Ryan’s persuasion helped.”
“This is great, Jan. I’m proud of you. Way to go!”
“Thanks. We can be proud of each other.”
> ( <
Jackson was posted to the Washington office of the FBI as expected. The two friends dropped into a routine, Jackson going to work every day after running in the Ellipse, Jan walking to school. Usually, he joined Jackson on his runs, but if he’d been up late studying, he skipped it.
Jan enjoyed the walk to school. He was close to the embassies of many foreign countries, and his and Jackson’s apartment house was almost next door to the Russian Embassy. He passed that every day walking to school. Every time he passed it, he looked it over, wondering if perhaps Ashastova might be hiding in there. It was one place the Americans couldn’t look.
He assumed there were FBI cameras watching the entrances to the building. He’d seen people, almost exclusively men, entering and leaving, but he’d seen no one who looked like the pictures of Ashastova he’d been shown. Still, he looked at the embassy every day as he walked by.
His first class on Wednesdays started at 10 AM. He found as he walked by the Russian Embassy that day that there was more activity than he ever encountered when he passed by earlier in the morning. It became routine of Wednesdays for him to see a group of five men leave the Embassy just as Jan was nearing it. Jan began to time his walk so that he ended up walking behind them.
He mentioned it to Jackson. “I listen to them speaking, and I’m picking up more and more Russian. If you already know more than one language, I think it’s easier to learn another. And listening to them, I’m learning.”
Jackson asked, “Any talk involving Ashastova?”
Jan grinned. “Not a word.”
Jackson brought out the picture of Ashastova that had been taken when he’d joined the CIA. “Any of them look like this?”
Jan shook his head. “He’s probably long gone. Why stick around here where someone might recognize him. He’d be better off in Paducah or Santa Fe.”
Jackson snorted. “You must have been looking at our Atlas again.”
“Hey, if I’m going to live here now, I need to learn the names of places.”
> ( <
“You on an assignment yet?” Jan asked, finishing his toast before heading out for his first class that day.
“They have me working with Ryan this week. He’s really good on computers and I’m not. He’s teaching me a lot. There’s so much for a new guy like me to learn.”
“Well, have fun.”
“It is kind of fun. Oh, Ryan wants us to have dinner with him tonight. He says the place is kind of fancy. Jacket-and-tie fancy.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be home in the late afternoon.” Jan finished his cocoa—he’d never developed a taste for coffee—slipped on his backpack full of books and notebooks and headed out.
He walked east, then southeast, then east again as Tunlaw Road curved through the city blocks. He was then on the short stretch where the road passed the Russian Embassy. That building was set back from the road and its front was partly screened by trees, but Jan always looked at the place as he passed. Today was no different.
This wasn’t Wednesday, and so the group of Wednesday men wasn’t around. There was a man, though, who left the Embassy while Jan was still some distance away. The man came out, looked around, stretched, and then began walking up the path toward the sidewalk abutting Tunlaw Road. Jan saw that the two of them would come close to meeting when the man reached Tunlaw Road.
As he neared, Jan recognized him as one of the Wednesday comrades. He was medium sized, had a slight build, a well-coifed, dark beard and a lilt to his step.
As always with any man he saw come from the embassy, Jan’s first thought was, could this be Ashastova? He didn’t think this man was. The picture of Ashastova Jan had seen showed him to be clean-shaven with light brown hair and, while not stout, not slender, either.
Jan surreptitiously watched the man as he strolled up the path toward the sidewalk Jan was on, and he was struck by the way he moved. He’d never seen the man but had heard Jackson describe him to Ryan on several occasions, and the descriptions always included how arrogant the man had seemed, how sure of himself, and how he walked with a cocky bounce in his step. This man, who probably wasn’t Ashastova, did have that bounce.
Jan wondered if all Russian men walked that way. If cockiness and a confident stride was a national trait. Then realized the other men in the group didn’t have that particular bounce.
Jan tried to imagine what this man would look like without the beard and with lighter hair. And heavier.
Jackson had remarked once that Jan was more perceptive than most and had an insight many lacked. Jan put that to use. And the more he considered the possibility that this might be Ashastova, the more possible it seemed.
It would still be at least a minute before the two met. If Jan slowed down, they wouldn’t meet unless the man turned in his direction, and it was more logical to think he’d turn the other way, toward the busier section of Washington.
Jan stopped. He created a reason for doing so. It was to take off his backpack and look inside. If the man was looking at him at all, what he was doing would look very natural.
Jan found what he was looking for. He pulled his cellphone from the backpack. Turning slightly so he wasn’t looking at the man, he dialed Jackson’s number.
Jackson opened his phone, saw who was calling and said, “Jan?”
“I might have spotted him. Ashastova!” Jan spoke in a soft voice, although the man was still some distance away.
“Where?” Jackson’s voice was suddenly tense.
“I’m on my way to school, on Tunlaw Road by the Russian Embassy. He just came out of there. He doesn’t exactly fit your description, but what’s different are all things that could be changed. This guy is thinner, has darker hair and a beard, but I can imagine him without those changes, and I think it might be him. Worth you taking a look, at least.”
“Okay, I’m on my way. Don’t get close to him. Stay well away. He’s dangerous.”
“I have to follow him so you’ll know where he is when you get here. He shouldn’t suspect anything. I walk to school this way every day, and I’ll stay behind him.”
“I’m on my way. Just remember, he was part of a plot that involved killing a lot of innocents.”
Jan slipped his phone into his jacket pocket for easier access, then put the backpack over his shoulders again and started walking. The man was just reaching the point where the path from the embassy met Tunlaw Road. Jan was about 50 yards short of there.
The man stopped at the end of the path. He looked back at Jan, who continued walking toward him. The man waited, and Jan didn’t think there was anything he could do but continue walking. It would be highly suspicious if he suddenly stopped.
Too, he thought it would be strange for him to avoid looking at the man, so he looked. They made eye contact. Jan, maybe twenty-five yards away now, nodded, looked away and kept walking, keeping an even pace. The man kept staring, but then stepped onto the sidewalk, turned and walked in the same direction Jan was heading, now about fifteen yards in front of him.
They stayed that distance apart past Culvert Street, past Benson Street till they came to where Tunlaw Road met 37th Street. When the roads separated, the man stayed on 37th Street. Jan stayed behind him, now on 37th as well.
The man stopped. Jan almost hesitated but didn’t. He kept walking till he came up to the man.
“You following me?” the man asked in a belligerent tone.
“Following you? No. I’m walking to school like I do most everyday.”
“Where you going?”
“Georgetown University. It’s just up ahead.”
“You’re not old enough to go there.”
Jan thought it best to seem upset at the questioning. Wouldn’t that be the natural thing to do?
“Well, I’m not, and it’s none of your business, anyway. But I’m due in class in ten minutes so don’t have time for a chat.”
“Hold on.” The man put out his hand like a traffic cop stopping traffic. “What are you taking?”
“A bunch of things. I’m a freshman. And you’re in my way.”
“You can keep going when I say you can. What class are you going to now?”
“My language requirement. German.”
“Ah, with Singer, right?”
“Who’s Singer? Don’t know anyone by that name. Freeman teaches my class. He’s a TA.”
Jan heard a car pull up and park on Manor Place, just ahead of where they were standing. He heard a car door open and close. The man was still talking to him. “ . . . following me. What’s your name? And I want to see some ID.”
“Who’re you? You don’t look like a cop to me. And a cop would be in a car, not walking. Besides, I’m just a kid walking to school. Now let me go by.”
“No, I think I’ll take a look in your backpack, see if it’s schoolbooks. I think you’re
following me, and I know how to handle people who do that.”
He took a step toward Jan, and Jan took a step back, at the same time dropping the backpack in front of the man. The man avoided it by stepping sideways, giving Jan more time to scoot backwards.
“I’m calling the cops,” he said, pulling out his cellphone.
The man hesitated, then quickly took two steps forward and reached out to grab Jan.
“Hello!”
The man paused. He realized it would be difficult to explain to anyone why he was grabbing a boy on a public sidewalk who was sure to scream bloody murder.
The ‘hello’ had come from behind him. He turned around to see who had spoken and found Jackson standing on the sidewalk, facing him.
Jackson grinned. The man stared for a moment, then said, “Jackson?”
“Hello, Tom. I’ve been looking for you. Me and others.”
Ashastova recognized Jackson and forced a smile. He remembered Jackson well. The guy was a born sycophant. All that was needed now was an assertive voice and he could get him to whatever he wanted. An assertive voice was easy for him to manage.
“Good to see you, Jackson. This boy has been following me and won’t tell me who he is. You can help me catch him. You go left, I’ll go right, and the only way he can go is backwards. He’ll run. You can catch him. The CIA trained you for this.”
Jan was standing still, out of reach but stationary and watching.
“That was a while ago. But you’re not with the CIA any longer, are you, Tom? Neither am I. And your name isn’t Asher, is it? It’s Ashastova, actually. Hope I’m pronouncing that correctly. Hate to hurt your feelings. Did you know you’re wanted by several federal agencies? I guess you do. That’s why you’ve been hiding. Well, that’s all over now.”
Jackson’s voice changed from conversational to hard. “You’re under arrest for espionage. Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
Ashastova was shocked. But he wasn’t and never had been a guy who’d simply give up. He had complete faith in his ability to work his way out of tough situations. He’d never failed in the past; now he was facing a weak man who could be intimidated.
He smiled, then became stern. “I have diplomatic immunity. You can’t arrest me, no matter who you are now. I’m untouchable.” There was supreme confidence in his voice.
“I’m afraid that’s not true.” Jackson smiled, too. “You may have diplomatic immunity, or you may not, but there’s a warrant for your arrest, and I’m taking you in. It becomes a political matter then. The Russian embassy may complain, and it’s even possible you’ll be released. But Russia can also waive immunity, and in this case, with the amount of egg on their face because of the disaster this operation of yours caused, they might just wash their hands of you. To put it succinctly, you fucked up; they don’t like fuckups or the embarrassment they cause.
“But I’m taking you in, and we’ll hold you till your official position is worked out.”
Ashastova was standing facing Jackson. Jan was behind him. Without turning around, Ashastova did part of what he’d been instructed to do: he put his hands behind his back.
Jan shouted, “GUN!”
Ashastova yanked his gun from where in was hidden in his belt in the back. He took a quick glance at Jan when the boy shouted but turned quickly back toward Jackson. He was shocked to see there was now a gun in his hand, too.
Ashastova jerked to the side and twisted his body, trying to present a smaller target, bringing his gun up as he did. He didn’t have time to get it aimed or to get a shot off. His gun was only halfway into position when he was hit with three shots to the body. He went down in a heap, looked at Jackson, and died.
Jan ran up and hugged Jackson. He spoke into his chest: “I guess you really are an agent now! They’ll be calling you ‘Fast-Draw Jackson’.”