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  With a smile Ulan looked up, his eyes sparkling and his face slightly flushed. “Her name is Aida.”

  “Ah, to be young again.” Karimov smiled. “You and Aida have so much to look forward to, and I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.” He paused momentarily. “Now, shall we return to the task at hand?”

  “Of course, sir.” Ulan bowed his head slightly.

  Doctor Karimov doubled checked the paperwork while Ulan watched in silence. He then used a digital multimeter to check a few voltages and resistance readings, and ensured a good ground had been established. This was normal, expected by Ulan, as Karimov had done this on a hundred other projects he had worked on.

  After five minutes of double-checking and triple-checking Ulan’s work, Doctor Karimov grunted approval.

  “Take these down the hall to the biochem laboratory. I will phone and have someone meet you there.”

  Ulan followed the cart down the hallway. He had never been into the biochemistry lab and wondered why they needed these devices that were obviously meant to measure weather conditions. He stopped outside the door as instructed, and soon the door was opened by a middle-aged woman with platinum blond hair. It was cut short, making her look rather masculine. Beyond her frame, Ulan glimpsed an inner chamber and another glass partition. The inner chamber had several white suits hanging from hooks, and several hoods with large clear face shields. Ulan recognized these as full-body protective suits.

  “Under the direction of Doctor Karimov, I’ll take these,” the woman said. Her voice was cold and detached. Ulan thought he knew everyone who worked at the facility, since the total number wasn’t more than about 100, but he didn’t recognize this woman. She wasn’t a native Kazakh, and he thought her accent to be Russian.

  Ulan watched as she wheeled the cart into the inner chamber. Just before the door closed, Ulan saw her take one of the white suits from the hook. This is very odd, Ulan thought, but he knew better than to ask any questions.

  With the door closed, Doctor Maria Lukin donned a biohazard suit and then wheeled the cart through an airlock and into the laboratory. “Take this to the assembly lab,” she instructed a technician. “You are to install a canister containing the new strain.”

  “The hemorrhagic variation?” the technician asked.

  “Yes. The experiments with our primates confirmed the high infection and mortality rates. And last night the autopsies of three human subjects was completed. The results confirmed internal bleeding and organ failure resulting in death 85 to 100 hours after infection. So we can conclude the cell culture-method was successful.”

  The technician displayed a blank look, not comprehending the significance of the brief explanation. For a moment, Doctor Lukin considered explaining that growing the virus in a culture of human cells was a breakthrough in mass productivity over using chicken eggs as the growth medium. She quickly dismissed the thought—she was not here in this God-forsaken corner of the world to teach these ignorant fools.

  “When you are done, make certain the case is thoroughly decontaminated. If you can’t perform the task correctly, maybe you will find yourself a subject of future experiments.”

  Chapter 2

  Bend, Oregon

  WITH BON JOVI SINGING ABOUT LIFE ON TOUR, the classic rock radio station provided background music as Peter busied himself cooking breakfast. Bobbing his head to the guitar riff, he threw some diced ham into a hot skillet, already colored with red and green peppers as well as potatoes, when the phone rang.

  “Hey buddy, how’s your Saturday morning?” Gary asked. Gary Porter and Peter began their friendship in high school—they had since grown as close as two brothers ever could be. Hearing his friend’s voice, Peter immediately conjured up his image; curly blond hair and infectious smile, cobalt blue eyes that were at home with his easy-going, gentle spirit. But Peter also knew Gary could be hard and unyielding if pushed too far.

  “Not bad, Gary. Cooking up a breakfast skillet and then I’m going on a walk along the Deschutes River trail. What’s up?”

  “Have you heard about the military action in Latvia? I looked at the map; that’s pretty close to Belarus.”

  They had been planning a trip to Minsk for about three weeks. Gary was doing some cyber security consulting for the Belarusian State University, or BSU, and Peter wanted to visit his father who was presently collaborating with faculty in the chemistry department of BSU. He planned to bring along his children, Ethan and Joanna—Ethan wanted to apply as an exchange student and Joanna was interested in sightseeing and visiting her grandfather.

  “No, I don’t pay much attention to the broadcast news. Seems I hear soon enough from my government contacts when things go bad. What type of military action?” Peter was already changing the radio station and landed on Oregon Public Broadcasting where a panel of journalists and commentators were discussing current events.

  “Based on what I read in the newspaper, a bunch of pro-Russian militiamen took control over a railway station in a small town near the Russian border, then they moved on to another city and there they were met by the Latvian army. There was a big fight and the militia lost.”

  “Who’s in control now?”

  “According to the Latvian government, they are.”

  “I’ll research what the wire services have reported, and I’ll also call Jim, but it sounds like the skirmish might be over.”

  Jim Nicolaou, Commander of the Strategic Global Intervention Team, had been a friend of Peter’s ever since they were kids. Having followed separate careers, the paths of the two men crossed again a couple of years ago when Jim was working a case in which terrorists were systematically murdering petroleum scientists, a group that happened to include Peter’s father. Since then, Peter had occasionally worked with Jim and SGIT in an unofficial capacity.

  “You don’t think Russia is planning to invade Eastern Europe, do you?” Gary asked.

  Because of Peter’s work designing and manufacturing silent magnetic-impulse pistols, which his company EJ Enterprises sold to the U.S. military, he had regular communication with various colonels stationed at the Pentagon. Based on those conversations and other off-the-record statements he had overheard, he was somewhat familiar with the unofficial take on Russian ambitions as they related to the former Soviet Bloc countries. Few officers in the U.S. military believed Russia would risk a full-scale war to retake territories lost when the Iron Curtain fell, despite the invasion and annexation of Crimea.

  “No, I don’t,” Peter answered without hesitation. “But let me check my sources and see what I can learn. The fact that I haven’t already heard about this is a good sign. But if I have any concerns the violence will spread to Belarus, you’ll be the third person I tell––right after I inform Ethan and Jo that the trip is cancelled.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Peter placed his phone on the granite-surfaced cooking island just in time to stir the mix of potatoes, ham, and peppers before they burned. The moderator on the radio program introduced a story about a smallpox outbreak in Tbilisi, Georgia. Several dozen people had been stricken and were hospitalized; already 14 had died, including a two-year old child and her mother. The discussion from the panel’s members was brief; one journalist pointed out that smallpox had been declared eliminated in the 1970s and that the source of the virus responsible for this outbreak was under investigation, but so far the World Health Organization had not organized an investigative team.

  “That’s what happens when you stop immunizing the population,” Peter said, carrying on a monolog with the voices on the radio, all the while knowing how irrational his behavior was. He stirred the skillet one more time and then turned off the burner and placed a large scoop in a bowl.

  As Peter sat at the counter separating the kitchen from a spacious great room, the moderator moved to the next topic of discussion. “Now I’d like to shift our attention to the Baltic States, and Latvia in particular. Last week we witnessed a remarkable series of events as the L
atvian government put down, swiftly and decisively, what appeared to be another civil uprising involving pro-Russian militias.”

  “That’s correct,” said the liberal commentator, a reporter with the Washington Post. “This seems to be a recurring event in Eastern Europe, only this time the outcome was much different from what happened in Georgia and Ukraine.”

  “And why is that?” the moderator asked, spurring the discussion along.

  The conservative panelist jumped in. “Well, the most significant difference is that Latvia, like Estonia, is a member of NATO, whereas Ukraine and Georgia are not. Plus, the Latvian government must certainly have planned for this possibility having seen the protracted and savage fighting in Ukraine and the annexation of the Crimean Peninsula by the Russian Federation.”

  Peter was still thinking about the defeat of the pro-Russian militia in Latvia as the talking heads moved on to national events. Hearing what he sought, Peter tuned out the conversation and fired up his tablet between bites of potatoes and peppers. He focused only on the wire reports.

  May 17

  Sophia Janicek, The Associated Press

  ZILUPE, Latvia (AP) — Two days after the first gunshots were fired, pro-Russian militia have reportedly secured their occupation of the train station in this small town of a few hundred inhabitants close to the border with Russia.

  Considered strategically important because of the major rail and road routes passing through Zilupe into Russia, armed militiamen claiming allegiance to the Russian Federation launched an assault on the railway station two days ago. The pro-Russian militia encountered very little resistance. The militia commander claims to have captured two Latvian soldiers, however that report is denied by a spokesman for the Minister of Defense.

  The railway station in Zilupe is strategically located on the Riga-Zilupe train route, which is one of the longest passenger rail routes in Latvia. The town is also near the A12 road, which becomes the M9 highway after the border crossing into Russia.

  Armed militiamen wearing black facemasks and carrying automatic rifles can be seen on the grounds surrounding the quaint timber-and-stone railway station. Sandbag bunkers have been erected as makeshift guard stations at the road leading to the station.

  Local residents report that trains are arriving from Russia carrying male passengers with green duffle bags. The trains do not travel further west into Latvia. It is believed these male passengers are Russian soldiers.

  However, a spokesman for President Vladimir Pushkin vehemently denies that any Russian military service members are in Latvia fighting on behalf of the militia. “This militia is comprised of local citizens,” said a spokesman for President Pushkin. “We have seen this before in Eastern Ukraine, South Ossetia, and Abkhazia. The people who live there are weary of their corrupt and weak governments, and seek repatriation with the Russian Federation.”

  Subconsciously, Peter had stopped eating, even though the fork still rested in his hand. He moved to the next two hits.

  May 19

  Sophia Janicek, The Associated Press

  RIGA, Latvia (AP) — The Minister of Defense announced today that seven Russian soldiers were captured near Zilupe in an overnight skirmish between government soldiers and pro-Russian militia. No casualties are reported on either side.

  This news comes less than one week before scheduled talks between President Vladimir Pushkin and European and NATO leaders in Berlin.

  Quoting an anonymous source in the Russian Defense Ministry, the Russian news agency Interfax reports that “the soldiers were on patrol near the border and apparently got lost. It was night and the forest is dense, it would be easy for anyone to lose their way.”

  U.S. Secretary of State Paul Bryan has accused the Kremlin of stirring up violence in this peaceful Baltic nation. A former member of the Soviet Union, Latvia restated their independence on May 4, 1990, charging that the occupation by the former Soviet Union was illegal.

  “Once again we see the Russian government initiating civil unrest and violence in an effort to gain influence and territory,” Bryan said. “It is becoming increasingly clear that Mister Pushkin covets a greater Russia, even if it means violation of international law.”

  May 20

  Karl Church, Global Times

  RĒZEKNE, Latvia (GT) — In a daring night-time assault, government forces recaptured key buildings in this city of 36,000 residents. Approximately two dozen militiamen are reported killed and more than 150 captured. Most of the pro-Russian militia fled under cover of darkness.

  Russian President Vladimir Pushkin, stressing that he supported an end to the bloodshed, urged the Latvian military to cease using force against its civilian population and threatened to withdraw from bilateral trade talks unless the violence ends.

  Situated 39 miles west of the Russian border, Rēzekne is a major transportation hub for both highway and rail. The Moscow-Riga railway and the Warsaw-St. Petersburg railway intersect and pass through Rēzekne.

  A spokesman for the Minister of Defense said that the assault commenced at 1 a.m. local time. “The raid was executed with professionalism by members of the Special Tasks Unit,” he said.

  The Latvian Special Tasks Unit is the equivalent of Special Forces. The Ministry of Defense would not comment on the number of men participating in the nighttime raid. A member of NATO, Latvia has frequently participated in joint military exercises and is considered by military experts to have a skilled and professional force.

  A Pentagon source, who asked not to be named, said that the Special Tasks Unit received support from the U.S. Army in the form of non-lethal material. When asked what type of non-lethal material, the source replied, “night vision goggles and advanced communication equipment, plus intelligence reports.”

  At dawn this morning the main railway stations in Rēzekne were under control of Latvian soldiers, and regularly scheduled train travel is expected to resume by noon local time. Soldiers wearing Latvian uniforms were visible on the streets and in government buildings through Rēzekne as the government made a dramatic show of force.

  No longer hungry, Peter pushed his bowl aside, staring at the tablet. Based on the news reports, the Latvian government was firmly in control and the violence had seemingly ended. There was no evidence to support fears that a Russian annexation was imminent, or anticipated.

  Still, Peter called Jim Nicolaou, who answered on the second ring.

  They efficiently passed through introductions and pleasantries before Peter got down to business.

  “I’m not asking for any classified information, just your general take on the region,” Peter said.

  “The Latvians slapped down the militia rather quickly, and that sends a message to other militia groups that might think they can actually win a civil war. These Baltic nations are very different from Ukraine, and we don’t expect a repeat of what happened there.”

  “So you wouldn’t advise me to cancel my trip to Minsk?”

  “No, I wouldn’t. Look, you know I can’t guarantee your safety. Who knows what might happen tomorrow, or in a week, or month… or never. All I can say is that the intelligence community does not predict further acts of violence by militia groups against any of the Eastern European countries. And if that changes, I’ll let you know.

  “By the way, how is the Professor doing? Last time we spoke he was rather anxious to get his research back on track.”

  “Still is,” Peter chuckled. “Dad was frustrated by his perceived lack of progress, and he felt it would be helpful to work with colleagues at the BSU campus. Sounds like he’s made some good friends. We’ve had a few phone conversations, and he sounds excited again about his research.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. Tell Ian hello for me when you see him, okay?”

  They ended the call, and then Peter phoned Gary to relay the news.

  Shortly later, Peter was walking along the Deschutes River. The morning was comfortably warm and sunny, a beautiful spring day. The rhythm of the walk was
like a moving meditation, and soon Peter was lost in his thoughts.

  Although he had many friends plus colleagues from EJ Enterprises, Peter still felt alone. Ethan was attending the University of Oregon in Eugene, a two-and-a-half hour car trip to the west. Joanna, or Jo as she liked to be called, was building her own independent life even though she lived in the same city as her father.

  It had been a difficult transition as the children left home, perhaps more so because he didn’t have his wife Maggie for support. The years since her death in an automobile accident had not softened the pain. Left brain-dead from her injuries, the hardest thing Peter ever had to do was instruct the doctors to remove her from life support. That was Maggie’s final wish, and it still haunted Peter. Mostly at night, when it was quiet and the solitude was overwhelming.

  Yes, it will be good to be with Ethan and Jo, and to visit Dad, Peter thought as a smile crept across his face.

  Chapter 3

  Sacramento, California

  June 12

  COMMANDER JAMES NICOLAOU sat hunched over his desk studying the morning intelligence update. He paused when he reached the paragraphs describing the latest events in Eastern Europe and the DIA analyst’s interpretations. As commanding officer of the Strategic Global Intervention Team—SGIT—he led an exceptional team of intelligence analysts and military operatives. Given that the bloodshed over the past months had been limited to a few cities in Latvia and Ukraine, and no Americans had been killed, SGIT had not been called into service, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t stay abreast of all that was occurring in the region.

  Although the pro-Russian militia, equipped with heavy weapons that could have only come from Russia, still occupied the city of Baltinava on the Ukrainian border with Russia, as long as talks were underway with Pushkin’s government Europe and the U.S. were not willing to use force. As distasteful as it was to accept small enclaves ripped from sovereign nations, the idea of risking war in Europe was even more distasteful.