a rendezvous and extraction, the SDV would carry assaulters from [Redacted X X X X X X X X X X X]. They would infil to the target, and conduct actions on the objective using non-U.S.-attributable weapons.”
“What does that mean?”
“They’d use AKMs with 7.62x39 sourced rounds from Russia to make it look like a mafia hit on the son of a rival.”
“And the second option?”
“CAG, aviators from the 160th, Agency and FBI HRT operators have been rehearsing at a secure location. The plan is to stage out of Alaska, fueling low-signature aircraft on the Aleutian Islands, and inserting teams via HAHO—that’s high altitude, high opening—onto Medny under the cover of darkness.”
“I’m familiar with HAHO,” Pyne lied. “They’d use those same Russian guns?”
“Correct, sir.”
“Continue.”
“After insertion, the teams would move overland, breach the target building, and secure the hostages. The helos, the same kind used in the bin Laden mission, would then move in from an amphib in international waters and extract all U.S. personnel.”
Pyne leaned back in his chair and made a production of closing his eyes and heaving an audible sigh. He then leaded forward.
“You want to invade Russia?”
“No, sir, our plan is to briefly visit Russia to return an American citizen held against her will.”
“Interesting semantics. In both of these COAs, how long would your people be on the ground?”
“Four hours for the SDV option. One, possibly two hours for the airborne option.”
“Could this be some sort of sanctioned rendition of a former SEAL for something he did in service against Russia?”
“We do not believe that it is condoned by the Russian government. We also believe that if we go through official channels, Director Zharkov will be tipped off, which will cost Hanna Hastings her life.”
“Is that COA 3?” Pyne asked.
“Sir, if we go the diplomatic route it is imperative that the president understand that he is signing the death warrant of a kidnapped U.S. citizen.”
“You don’t know that,” Pyne cautioned.
“That is the official analysis of the Central Intelligence Agency.”
“Like weapons of mass destruction in Iraq?”
Director Motley held his condescending stare.
“That was before my time, Mr. Pyne,” she responded without a hint of the fury she felt boiling inside.
“Enemy order of battle?” Pyne asked, bringing the briefing back on course and using a term he’d heard the president use on occasion. He’d made a note of it.
“Aleksandr Zharkov doesn’t rely on official Russian protection. He uses private security contractors from the Wagner Group. Ten are currently with him on the island. We do not believe that they expect a rescue attempt.”
“Don’t bullshit me,” the chief of staff said, directing his question back to Director Motley. “What is Zharkov’s beef with the Hastings family and this Reece character?”
“It is possible it is retaliation for what they suspect was James Reece’s involvement in thwarting the assassination of President Grimes last year in Odessa and the subsequent assassination of Colonel Vasili Andrenov and the poisoning of General Qusim Yedid,” Director Motley said, quite intentionally bringing Reece’s involvement in saving the president’s life into the conversation.
“Yes, most curious,” Pyne said, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve heard rumors that Mr. Reece is responsible for both of those assassinations. What do you know about that?”
Rodriguez visibly bristled in his chair while Motley met the president’s chief of staff’s stare without flinching.
“We confirmed that those were just rumors, sir. Both of those men had lists of enemies a mile long.”
“I see. And why would we risk an international incident, even war with Russia to kidnap a girl and her brother who the Russians will say were there of their own free will?”
“If we don’t,” Director Motley answered, “an American citizen kidnapped against her will is dead, and a TS/SCI-cleared operator will be exploited for intelligence by the same country that manipulated the very technology we developed to influence our last election. This is a chance to hit back.”
Pyne tapped his finger on the closed cover of his iPad case.
“How soon could you go?”
“All assets are standing by, sir,” Rodriguez said. “We could have the teams on C-17s within forty-five minutes of the president’s signature for either COA.”
Pyne continued tapping his iPad, thinking through options and worst-case scenarios.
“I want you to thank the men and women who have been preparing for this possibility.” Pyne paused for effect. “But, there’s no way in hell that we are invading a nuclear-armed Russia to get back one girl and her brother who are probably already dead. Do you have any idea what kind of international incident this would cause?