The Bear and the Dragon - Tom Clancy [270]
"So, get him and thereby hurt your president, and thereby hurt your entire country. Still, it's one hell of a dangerous play, Oleg Gregoriyevich."
"A very dangerous play, Mishka," Provalov agreed. "Who would do such a thing?"
Reilly let out a long and speculative breath. "One very ambitious motherfucker." He had to get back to the embassy and light up his STU-6 in one big fucking hurry. He'd tell Director Murray, and Murray would tell President Ryan in half a New York minute. Then what? It was way the hell over his head, Mike Reilly thought.
"Okay, you're covering this Suvorov guy."
"We and the Federal Security Service now," Provalov confirmed.
"They good?"
"Very," the militia lieutenant admitted. "Suvorov can't fart without us knowing what he had to eat."
"And you have his communications penetrated." Oleg nodded. "The written kind. He has a cell phone—maybe more than one, and covering them can be troublesome."
"Especially if he has an encryption system on it. There's stuff commercially available now that our people have a problem with."
"Oh?" Provalov's head came around. He was surprised for two reasons: first, that there was a reliable encryption system available for cell phones, and second, that the Americans had trouble cracking it.
Reilly nodded. "Fortunately, the bad guys haven't found out yet." Contrary to popular belief, the Mafia wasn't all that adept at using technology. Microwaving their food was about as far as they went. One Mafia don had thought his cell phone secure because of its frequency hopping abilities, and then had entirely canceled that supposed advantage out by standing still while using it! The dunce-don had never figured that out, even after the intercept had been played aloud in Federal District Court.
"We haven't noticed any of that yet."
"Keep it that way," Reilly advised. "Anyway, you have a national-security investigation."
"It's still murder and conspiracy to commit murder," Provalov said, meaning it was still his case.
"Anything I can do?"
"Think it over. You have good instincts for Mafia cases, and that is probably what it is."
Reilly tossed off his last drink. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, right here?"
Oleg nodded. "That is good."
The FBI agent walked back outside and got into his car. Ten minutes later, he was at his desk. He took the plastic key from his desk drawer and inserted it into the STU, then dialed Washington.
All manner of people with STU phones had access to Murray's private secure number, and so when the large system behind his desk started chirping, he just picked it up and listened to the hiss of static for thirty seconds until the robotic voice announced, "Line is secure."
"Murray," he said.
"Reilly in Moscow," the other voice said.
The FBI Director checked his desk clock. It was pretty damned late there. "What's happening, Mike?" he asked, then got the word in three fast-spoken minutes.
"Yeah, Ellen?" Ryan said when the buzzer went off. "The AG and the FBI Director want to come over, on something important, they said. You have an opening in forty minutes."
"Fair enough." Ryan didn't wonder what it was about. He'd find out quickly enough. When he realized what he'd just thought, he cursed the Presidency once more. He was becoming jaded. In this job?
"What the hell?" Ed Foley observed. "Seems to be solid information, too," Murray told the DCI.
"What else do you know?"
"The fax just came in, only two pages, and nothing much more than what I just told you, but I'll send it over to you. I've told Reilly to offer total cooperation. Anything to offer from your side?" Dan asked.
"Nothing comes to mind. This is all news to us, Dan. My congrats