Prologue:
The old bureaucrat walked through the dimly lit
halls. He didn’t know what was in the majority of
the folders he carried, nor did he care. He only
knew it was his job to put them back in their storage
space. The modern world had long since gone to
electronic records. However, no one had the time or
resources to digitize these moldy old files. Nearly
all of them still had letterhead from agencies that no
longer existed, KGB, GRU, whatever. Most of the
people he worked for neither knew, nor even cared
that he or the files existed. The one thing he did
know was, bosses were all the same. No matter
what political masters they answered to, his life
hadn’t really changed.
Whether they called themselves communists or
democrats, they were still the same corrupt fools
who took the money. At least in the old days, his
pension may have been worth something. Now,
with prices going crazy, he feared he would
probably have to work until he fell over. When he
did, it was possible no one would notice for days.
For all he knew, they would find him in some
storage room half-rotted.
Hardly anyone wanted to see the information
stored in these ancient archives anymore. He’d
heard a rumor about wanting to fill the whole
complex with concrete, similar to what had been
done in Romania. But like most things, it had
probably fallen off some higher person’s to do list.
On the other hand, maybe someone actually decided
the information could be useful someday. Although
he believed that was about as likely as being given a
dacha in the country when he retired.
No, it was more likely the records, like he, had
been forgotten. At least he still got his paycheck. He
had been there so long; no one else understood the
ancient filing system. Occasionally some fool
would request an old manuscript and they would
need him to search through rooms of cabinets
looking for the one that was needed. When they
were returned, he would generally wait until a pile
of them built up and then just make one trip. The
documents requested were always from the
unclassified section. No one was crazy enough to
request information from the classified side. If
anyone did request a classified document, he was
required to notify security personnel immediately.
“Ah, this is where most of these go,” he said,
stopping in front of a non-descript door, one of
many on this level. He started jingling through a
large ring of keys looking for the right one.
Then he noticed the light in the stairwell.
Someone was down in the lower levels, the
classified section. He himself hadn’t been down
there for years. He had no reason to go. Most of
those files were from defunct programs or agencies
that no longer existed. He didn’t even think anyone
else was in the complex. Who comes three floors
underground if they don’t have to? Maybe he
should go notify his supervisor? No, the fool would
probably not even know who the old bureaucrat
was. He would have to take hours just explaining to
him who he was and why he worked for him. The
name of his boss had changed four times in the last
eight months. Once when he tried to contact his
boss to discuss a holiday, it took him six hours just
to find the right person. He considered just walking
away and ignoring the light. No, then if something
came up missing, he would be investigated and that
was the last thing he needed. Hopefully it was just
some idiot who didn’t know the system and had
come in and gotten lost looking for a file.
The door to the stairwell was locked. However the
light being on made him certain someone was down
there. He looked through his keys and found the
right one. He passed through the door and started
trudging down the metal stairs. The sounds his feet
made as they landed on the steps seemed ominously
cold. Maybe the concrete would have been a good
idea.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs he
entered another corridor that looked identical to the
one he had left previously. He knew it was different
though. These rooms contained files dating back
over fifty years. These were files no one wanted
released, but were afraid to destroy. As he began
walking down the hall, he peered under each door
trying to see if a light was on. If he was lucky, the
person had already left and he’d be able to get back
to his lunch and forget coming down here. None of
the doors had identifying markings other than nondescript numbers. Each carried the standard
disclaimer about severe penalties and prosecution
for disclosure of state secrets.
As he turned a corner at the end of the hall, he
saw light coming from under a door. From the
moment he saw it he wished he hadn’t. He had no
idea what was in that particular room. He had only
been in there once, and it was several years ago. In
the past, someone from one of the more classified
agencies would come them self and retrieve or file
the information stored in there. Today, all the
agencies associated with that room had been
replaced or renamed and now retained their own
records. No one had come asking about the files in
that room for what, eight years, ten? The bureaucrat
had only been shown the inside of the room once in
case he had to enter in an emergency. He kept a key
to the room, but he had certainly never used it.
As he stared at the key he had never used,
contemplating what to do, someone exited the
room. He was at least thirty years younger than the
bureaucrat. He wore a nice suit and was very well
groomed. He had a non-descriptive folder in his
hand, which had no markings on it. The old man
thought he was most likely one of the new
capitalists who had recently gotten rich. The young
man was obviously surprised to see him. As he
turned around after shutting and locking the door
quietly, he almost ran into the old bureaucrat.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“What were you doing in there?”
“Oh, just gathering some old files for my boss.”
“What files?”
“I’m really not sure, he just gave me this key and
told me to come to this room and retrieve some
things.”
“I’ll need to verify this. Do you even have
clearance to go in there?”
“Of course I do, my superior, a high level official
I’m sure you’ve never heard of, wouldn’t have
given me the key if I didn’t have the proper
clearance.”
“Listen, I need authorization for anything
removed from this facility, particularly from this
floor, particularly from that room.” He said
emphasizing the last portion.
“I see. Well, I’m obviously taking valuable time
away from your lunch. If we go through all the
trouble of verifying this, neither of us will get
anything else accomplished today. My boss only
needs to see these files for a few hours. He’s a very
impatient man who hates to be kept waiting. I
promise to have them back before the end of the
day. Perhaps you could go out for lunch and let me
pay for it, as an apology for your trouble.”
As the young man said this, he held out his hand
as if he wanted the old bureaucrat to shake it. He
could see the money inside the young man’s hand.
It was more than enough to buy his lunch. It looked
to be enough to buy a month of lunches. In the old
days, he would have walked away and turned the
young man in immediately. This could be a test, or
a trap. At one time, he knew these halls were
continuously monitored. Today, most of the
cameras were broken and no one bothered to fix
them. The guard upstairs was a friend of his and
was probably asleep anyways.
“All right, but I need them back here before the
end of the day, like you promised.” He shook the
young man’s hand and quickly pocketed the money.
“Certainly, my friend. After all, we are both just
hard working employees answering to our idiotic
masters aren’t we?”
“I do understand that” said the old man sourly.
“Fine, fine. I won’t wait for you. The sooner I get
out of here, the sooner I’ll get these back.” He
quickly turned around and hurried up the stairs. The
old man watched him go with deep suspicion.
“If he’s a low level employee, I’m Vladimir
Putin,” Even if he never brought the files back, no
one had been in that room for years. He doubted
anyone even had an accurate inventory anymore.
As the young man exited the complex, the guards
questioned him. His ID immediately ceased them
from asking any further questions and let him leave.
Visitors were normally searched. He was an
exception. His car was waiting for him outside.
After getting in the back, he dialed his cell phone as
the car pulled away.
“Yes?” said a deep but powerful voice.
“It exists.”
“And do you have the information we need?”
“Yes, and it’s more than we imagined.”
“Excellent, were there any problems?”
“Possibly, I ran into some old man while leaving
the storage room. I was able to bribe him, but he
could be a liability.”
“I know this man,” pondered the deep voice.
“Perhaps it’s time for his retirement.”
“I understand. I can have it taken care of, and no
one will suspect anything.”
“Good. Make sure it is painless, he has always
been a loyal servant, despite taking bribes from
corrupt officials.”
“I don’t find that the least bit amusing,” snapped
the young man.
“Sergei, if you can’t laugh at yourself, you have
no place in this organization.”


CH 1

Susan knew someone was sneaking up behind her.
She also had a pretty good idea who it was. That
was a gift she had always seemed to have, among
others. Whenever someone entered the room, she
could almost “sense” it. She wasn’t psychic.
Instead, it seemed that no matter how quiet
someone was, they were never able to sneak up on
her.
She could hear the person slowly moving toward
her. She continued intently working on her task,
waiting until the last possible moment. Then, when
she knew they were right behind her, she struck.
She wheeled around and wrapped her arms around
the attacker.
“Mommy!!” screamed the little girl. “I almost had
you that time.”
“Yes you did” she lied. “Now what are you up to
you silly goose?”
“I wanted a snack.”
“Michelle, you know dinner will be ready soon.
Can’t you see mommy’s making it?” she said
pointing to the vegetables she had been cutting on
the counter.
“I know mommy, but Janet went home and now
I’m bored.”
“Where’s your brother?”
“That’s a silly question, he’s on his computer.”
“Okay,” she sighed. “Go tell him I said he needs
some time away from that machine and that he
should play outside with you until dinner’s ready.”
“But Mommy, Tommy’s boring to play with.”
“Just do it young lady. He needs time in the sun
and I need you out of my kitchen.”
“Okay Mommy. Tommy!” she screamed as she
ran out of the kitchen.
Well that ought to keep them busy for at least a
few minutes. As she went back to her chopping, she
could practically count down to the inevitable
argument.
“Mom!” yelled her twelve-year-old son. “Do I
have to take the brat outside?”
“I am not a brat!”
“Don’t call your sister a brat. Now both of you go
outside and play quietly until dinner or there’ll be
no computer or TV for either of you!”
The inevitable groans ensued, but she knew the
argument was over. On only a few occasions had
her children tested her to see if she was serious.
They had quickly learned that she always was.
“Mommy, when’s daddy coming home?” asked
her youngest as she and her brother walked past her
towards the backyard.
“Sweetie, you know the answer, just look at the
calendar.”
“I like to count the days left with you Mommy”
she giggled.
“Oh brother,” moaned Tommy as he trudged out
the back door.
“Oh well,” Susan thought, “He is almost a
teenager.” Tommy was just starting to hit puberty.
He had grown several inches while Bill had been
gone. Bill probably wouldn’t recognize him.
Tommy had brown hair and blue eyes like his
mother but he would definitely have his father’s
thin build along with his extremely good memory
and ability to reason.
“All right sweetie, let’s look at the calendar. What
is today?”
“There!” she said pointing at the date.
“Yes, which makes today what?”
“Tuesday, the 26th of September?”
“Very good, and what day is Daddy coming
home?”
“Monday the 8th of October.” Her six-year-old
daughter had memorized the day as soon as her
father had left.
“That’s right honey. Now, how many days are in
between?”
“Fourteen?”
“Try counting on the calendar.”
“Oh, twelve,” she said after counting out the days.
“That’s right. Now go and play with your
brother.”
“Only twelve days to Daddy!” she screamed as
she ran out the door. Unlike Tommy, Michelle took
after her mother. She had brown hair and brown
eyes and similar facial features to Susan. There was
no doubt she was her daughter in spirit and
appearance. She also had Susan’s personality and
agility. She was very outgoing and had a lot of
friends. She had also recently shown an interest in
gymnastics and her coach said she had a lot of
potential. Although she was still a child, Susan
already knew what a handful she would be when
she became a teenager.
Yes, just twelve days until Bill gets home. This
was part of the life of being married to a
submariner. Six-month deployments were
something you had to deal with. Although she was
used to them, she certainly didn’t like them. At least
this would be his last one for a while as he was
nearly done with his XO or second in command
tour on the USS Hartford.
After returning, Bill would be on the phone with
his detailer. They had recently learned he had been
selected for promotion to Commander as well as
command of his own submarine. Although that
would be a few years off, it did set his career path
for quite a while. He first had to negotiate a shore
duty for the next two years. It would probably be
something around Washington DC. Neither of them
wanted to go there, but it was a necessary evil. The
traffic and the housing prices just did not appeal to
her. She’d definitely miss living in Groton,
Connecticut.
During the whole time they had been married, she
had never considered any other life. While she
hated for her husband to be away, this just seemed
so natural. Even when they met, she just knew he
was the man for her. They had both attended Purdue
University as engineering students and met at a
party. Bill however was also enrolled in the ROTC
program, which stood for Reserve Officers Training
Corps, and as a result, he would become a naval
officer after graduation. After they were married she
followed him around the world and never really got
to use her degree. She had grown up in an
orphanage so she had no family tying her to any one
location. It didn’t bother her though; she knew this
was what she was meant to do. It was funny how
that always seemed like a mantra.
As she continued preparing dinner, she looked out
the window and waved to her friend Lois Arlington.
Lois was also a navy wife. Susan lived in
government housing, so everyone was somehow
connected to the military. Lois’ husband, Al, was on
a different submarine and unlike Bill had spent most
of his time in the shipyard. Susan had always
encouraged her husband to stay operational to help
his career. It just seemed like the natural thing to do.
Submarines were supposed to be at sea right?
“Hey Susan, I hope Janet wasn’t too much
trouble,” said Lois and she walked by.
“Of course not. She kept Michelle busy and let me
get some housework done. I even got in a workout.”
Susan always worked hard to stay in shape. For a
thirty-eight year old who had two kids, she felt she
looked pretty good. She was five-feet nine with
dark brown hair that she normally kept stylish but
short. She could run five miles while barely
breaking a sweat and also lifted weights a few days
a week. She had blue eyes and was often told she
had a pretty face. She wasn’t gorgeous, just pretty.
Bill always told her she was the most beautiful
woman in the world, which was fine with her, but
she never liked to stand out. She preferred to look
nice but blend in with the crowd. She always felt
comfortable dressing as the stereotypical soccer
mom but she knew with a little work and makeup
she could turn herself into one of the hottest women
in the room, though she rarely did.
“I wish I had your figure,” said Lois. Lois was a
few years older than Susan. Her husband had started
as an enlisted man before becoming an officer so
they had more time in the Navy even though Bill
was a higher rank. Lois was by no means
overweight but she was never able to stay in as
good a shape as Susan. She was five-eight with red
hair and brown eyes and wore glasses. Sometimes
she tried to give herself a makeover but always
seemed to end up looking like what she was, an
ordinary woman trying to look like a supermodel.
On more than one occasion she commented on how
Susan seemed to look right for any occasion but she
herself always seemed to look the same. She wasn’t
really jealous. They had been friends too long for
that. Instead she was just a little envious of Susan’s
inherent ability to know what to wear and how to
act in any situation. However, since they spent most
of their time shuttling kids around and seeing other
Navy wives their situation rarely changed.
“Say, do you want to go and get a coffee later?”
“Sure. Do you think Alison can baby sit?”
“Sure she will. She won’t like it, but she’ll do it.”
Alison was Lois’ older daughter of sixteen. It was
Tuesday night so she most likely wouldn’t have
something keeping her busy. “Should I pick you up
around seven-thirty?”
“Sounds good, see you then.”


Iosef knew the time was right. He had spent
several days conducting reconnaissance and
reviewing procedures. There was a bottle of vodka
and a blank folder on his desk. He knew which one
he wanted to reach for, but he also knew which one
he should reach for. He thought for a few moments
about his father and his grandfather and how proud
they would be once he succeeded. This allowed him
to force down the urge and reach for the folder.
It had taken several days to track down the first
three subjects. He had spent several days in
Washington at the embassy conducting research.
Officially he was there as a data miner on American
demographics. This allowed him to use their
database of names and addresses to look for the
people he needed to find. It had taken three weeks
but he found the location of all the original
members. Luckily, two of the first three lived near
each other. He then decided to shift his base of
operations to Connecticut. He had decided to
contact Sasha first. Her file said she was designated
to be the lead primary. If something went wrong
one of the other two could take over, but the
preference was for her to take charge. After
spending several days observing her and monitoring
her communications he was convinced enemy
agents weren’t monitoring her. It appeared the cover
had held all these years.
He opened the folder and reviewed the procedure
again. He had read it at least a dozen times in the
last few days. He wished he had someone else to
back him and double check the procedure. That is
what he had always been taught, never trust
yourself, and rely on your comrades to ensure
success. Only through teamwork and a
relinquishment of individuality could true success
be achieved. However he was alone. The
importance and covertness of the mission required
this.
When he was convinced he could recite the
procedure forward and backward he knew he was
ready. He didn’t want to admit it even to himself
but he was nervous. He told himself the shaking in
his hands as he reached for the phone was
excitement not fear. He glanced at the vodka bottle
again, but quickly dismissed the idea. After he
dialed the number he attached the handset to a
device and picked up a stopwatch. It was finally
beginning.


Susan returned to preparing dinner. Just before
she was ready to call the children, the phone rang.
The caller id showed it as an unknown number. It
was probably a telemarketer. They didn’t get very
many because they were on the national do not call
list. Normally she would simply ignore such a call
and let the machine answer it. However, she was
getting tired of them so she intended to let these
people know their calls were not welcome and make
sure they didn’t bother her anymore.
“Hello.”
The person didn’t answer right away. It was
definitely a telemarketer. The computers normally
dialed several different homes at once and
connected to whoever answered first. That caused a
few seconds delay in them answering. She waited to
hear some unknown voice say they were looking for
Mr. or Mrs. Anderson along with the low hum of
numerous other people talking in the background.
Instead, she began hearing a strange series of clicks
and whistles. It was similar to a fax machine, but
somehow different. At first she was sure someone’s
machine had simply dialed the wrong number. But
then, she began to feel strange. It was as if a veil
was being pulled away from her eyes. The room
began to spin and it was all she could do to stand.
She wanted to pull the phone away from her ear, but
somehow her arm felt locked. She used her other
hand to brace herself on the counter. And then
suddenly, the line went dead. It was as if she had
been released from a vice. She fell to the floor and
the phone fell away. She had an image of a man
standing in front of her. She was strapped to a chair.
He was wearing a white coat and speaking in a
language she didn’t understand. Yet somehow she
knew what he was saying.
“Are you prepared for this?”
“I am prepared to do anything for my country.”
The voice was hers, but it was again speaking in a
language she didn’t understand.
“You are the best, you are the primary. Without
you, none of this will succeed.” The man reached
towards her and began to place some sort of mask
over her face.


Iosef looked at the stopwatch. He was unsure
what to do. The call had ended six seconds too early
and he didn’t know why. He checked the equipment
and verified it. It appeared to be working properly.
Somehow the call had been cut off on the other end.
He wasn’t sure how the subject would respond in
this case. He checked his notes. The procedure
didn’t say anything about what to do if a call ended
early. He checked some of the original research. It
took some time but he found the notes used when
the procedure was created. It was determined
twenty-three seconds was the optimal time period
for recovery. Different period of time could result in
“unusual outcomes.”
He threw the page with disgust. It would have
been nice if they had mentioned that in the original
procedure. Moreover, he couldn’t find anything
about what to do in the event of these “unusual
outcomes”. The original notes were still very
disorganized. He had spent some time trying to put
them together in a usable format but his resources
were limited. If he had someone to help he could’ve
used them to organize all this. His only choice now
was to approach the subject and determine what was
meant by “unusual outcomes.” He reached for the
vodka bottle and wished he had started there
anyways.


“Mommy!”
A voice was yelling for her. It was a voice Susan
knew but suddenly somehow didn’t seem right.
Reality began to collapse back into place. She was
being pulled back into her kitchen from a faraway
place. And yet, part of her didn’t want to go back.
Part wanted to stay in the room with the man in the
white coat as if that was where she really belonged.
“Mommy, I hurt myself,” yelled the voice.
Now the pull back to her kitchen was even
stronger. Someone needed her, someone she cared
for. The kitchen came back into focus.
“Hey Mom, the brat fell down and… whoa are
you okay?”
Susan was still lying on the floor with the phone
next to her. As her vision cleared, she saw Tommy
coming in the back door.
“Mom what happened?” He ran up and knelt next
to her.
“I’m not sure, I got this weird phone call, and then
I felt dizzy, and don’t call your sister a brat.”
“Do you need me to call the ambulance?”
“No sweetie, I’ll be fine. What happened to your
sister?”
“She just tripped and skinned her knee on a rock.
Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes I’m fine.” She started to get up. Her strength
was quickly returning but something was different.
She felt more acute, more aware of her
surroundings. It was like someone had flipped a
switch and turned on parts of her senses she wasn’t
previously aware of. She walked out the back door
and saw her daughter lying on the ground. Michelle
was crying and her knee was bloody. Susan
immediately focused on the blood. As she ran to her
daughter her brain was working at breakneck speed.

Assess the damage, determine the liability, and
determine if she can continue the mission.

Wait,
what mission? She shook her head to clear it.
“Honey, are you okay? What happened?”
“Tommy pushed me down on a rock.”
“Did not! We were just playing tag and you
tripped.”
“After you pushed me!”
“I was tagging you!”
"All right enough, let’s look at this.” The cut was
long, but not deep. There was some dirt around it,
but nothing serious. Some soap and water, a
bandage, and a kiss should fix both the physical and
psychological damage.
“All right, let’s head inside and get this cleaned
up.”
“Cool!” said Tommy as he ran back toward the
house. She knew where he was going. He spent way
too much time on that damn computer. She was
worried about his social skills.
“Where do you think you’re going? With your
sister hurt I need your help with dinner.”
“Ahh Mom,” he sighed.
“Get inside and finish making the salads. I’ve got
pasta on the stove and it’ll be done soon.”
As she walked back toward her house she heard
Lois yelling out her window.
“Hey Susan, did your phone stop working?”
“Actually yes, it went dead in the middle of a
call.” She didn’t mention what a strange call it was,
or the strange results.

Stay focused on the task, minimize the damage, don’t divulge unnecessary information.

She had no idea where these strange thoughts coming from.
“Maybe it was that construction up the street?”
said Lois.
“You could be right. Now we don’t even have
phones to complain with.”
“Oh I’ve got my cell phone and I’m using it. Say,
are you okay? You look a little frazzled.”
“I’m fine. Michelle just skinned her knee pretty
bad.”

Stay on target. The mission comes first.

She had to get these thoughts out of head and tried shaking it again.
“Okay, are we still on for seven-thirty?”
“See you then.”
She soon had her daughter in the bathroom and
was washing the cut.

Superficial wound, minor damage, no direct impact on mission.

This wasn’t making any sense. She needed to clear these thoughts from her head, so she decided the current mission was dinner. That seemed to quiet the voice. While she certainly didn’t understand what was going on, it somehow seemed natural, which did
concern her. “I need to figure this out,” she thought
aloud.
“Figure what out Mommy?”
“Nothing sweetie.” She put a bandage on the knee
and gave her daughter a kiss.
“Thanks Mommy”
“Good, now can you go be a big girl and set the
table?”
“Okay.”
As she went back to preparing dinner, she focused
on what had just happened. It was probably just
someone’s computer trying to contact Tommy. But
they had DSL. Hardly anyone used dial up
anymore. It may have just been a fax machine. She
had heard of people responding strangely to
different combinations of light and sounds but those
people usually had epilepsy or some kind of
neurological disorder. Maybe she needed to
schedule an appointment at the base hospital?
“Mom, the salads are ready, what kind of dressing
should I put out?”
“The usual dear.”
“I’ll deal with this later,” she said to herself.
“Right now I need to focus on the current mission,
dinner.”

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 07.07.2009

Alle Rechte vorbehalten