“Dmitry was a liability!!! He WAS touchable!!! Dmitry turned himself in at the Denver Federal Center gate with top-secret information for Director General James Tilson.”
One of the guards radioed inside and spoke with the general, then two special agents came out and walked Dmitry Ivanov, minus the bag he’d packed, into the Denver Federal Center.
He was checked for weapons and anything that he could use as a weapon, after which, both agents escorted him inside a stark room with two chairs and one table for discussion and probable interrogation by General Tilson.
General Tilson looked Dmitry in the eye and stared. He had come to know this man over the last year, but friends they were not, neither were they enemies, mutual acquaintances, yes.
They’d even dined as guests in the same home of mutual friends several times in the last year. He’d always known there was more to Dmitry than he’d let on. This should be interesting, to say the least.
Most spies and secret agents were detained and interrogated in Washington, DC. This move by the general was not normal by any means, but General Tilson had collected intelligence on Dmitry for most of the last year and he knew Dmitry better than anyone in DC.
Therefore, with his electronic recorder turned on ‘record mode’ (a green light that didn’t record), and placed on the table, General Tilson began, “Why are you here, Mr. Ivanov?”
With a huge sigh, Dmitry stated in a calm and collected voice, “I’m the same man you already know. I’m a Russian oligarch, and I love and collect quality art of all kinds. Every single day, I enjoy the finer things life has to offer.
“I’ve come to know many people and I fought to not like them, but I failed. The Leawood family has taught me how a family should behave and be real, so loving, kind, and honest. The same for the Smith and Manse families. Even you, General Tilson.
“Yet, just as a coin has two sides, so do I. I’m willing and able to impart upon you and your team top-secret intelligence and plans in exchange for sanctuary in this facility.
“I’ve become a liability to my native Russia, and I want to live, not die, at the hands of one of my compatriots. I prefer the United States.” Dmitry suddenly stopped speaking as he measured the look on the general’s face.
“How can you prove to me that you have actual intelligence worth knowing? How can you prove to me that your life is in danger?” The general pointedly asked.
General Tilson wanted proof that Dmitry knew intelligence, he wanted to know why Dmitry thought he was a target to take out, and he wanted the name(s), if possible, of the one who had marked him as a potential threat to Russia, a potential “hit” for another Russian to take him out, the names of known associates, and what and how he’d come to know so much about the United States.
“I have intelligence that will help you find the people you seek regarding the microchips that are planted inside wooden frames while paintings are on display in gallery showings in London.” Dmitry watched for a reaction from the general. None was forthcoming. General Tilson was formidable by far, and that gave Dmitry comfort. He knew the general to be a fair and honest man.
He trusted no one in Russia…they were out for themselves and what they could gain…not a care for life…not a care for anything but lining their pockets…the atrocities he’d witnessed in the past were beyond horrific…what the elite in Russia wanted…only the billionaires dared to control this goal…and they could well afford it…Dmitry had billions himself…a true oligarch…yet he also had real human feelings… the biggest regret was not seeing Suz even one last time…he’d finally found true love…love he’d never thought was possible…she’d taught him true love…how caring and honest she was…and now he’d let her down big time…so many regrets…too many regrets to count…
“Please, do go on, Mr. Ivanov. I can’t help you if you don’t give me enough intelligence, so I know you do have knowledge. You are completely safe - for now. At this time, it remains unknown if you will be given protection until you give me more to work with.” General Tilson checked the recording device, and it was still working as it should (a fake device), as was the electronic microphone in the overhead light.
The general liked those he interrogated to think he had the one recording device. The general made it look like it was all he used, and if a suspect became irate and busted it, thinking that nothing remained of the interrogation, to think the general had zero on the person, the better Tilson liked it. A bit old school, yes, but it’d proved useful more than once, and had garnered additional intelligence he might not have obtained, if he’d not used it.
“I know that Scotland Yard caught Olga Pasternack on a spy camera that was jointly set up by Scotland Yard, the United States, Canada, General Ness, and the Brigadier General at Ramstein Air Base in Germany.
“She was caught reframing a small landscape painting that already had a frame, with a new one that contained a microchip, just so a certain oligarch would buy said painting no matter the price. I do not know the name of this oligarch.
“Furthermore, I also know that on General Ness’s order, via the commander-in-chief - your president, and the Brigadier General at Ramstein Air Base flew Olga Pasternack to Denver along with the frame that contained a microchip carefully sealed in a locked, shiny, silver Halliburton case.
“Additionally, I know that a Russian agent infiltrated Scotland Yard. The same agent who informed me via a coded email about Olga Pasternack, and the fact that she is now back in Russia. The same Russian agent with Scotland Yard was caught and is now in prison, I think.
“Those two were the only ones who sent me coded emails. Is that enough, General Tilson? You want to know what I know. I know for sure that I want to live and there could be a hit man already in Colorado.”
This time Dmitry knew that General Tilson had heard enough and that he, Dmitry, was authentic, since no one in the United States outside of General Ness and his top men, General Tilson and his top men, the president, and the Brigadier General at Ramstein Air Base knew this intelligence.
General Tilson stood up and stated in a matter-of-fact voice, “I need to make a phone call, Mr. Ivanov. Please wait patiently until I get back to this room. You are safe right now. No one can get to you here.” With that General Tilson left the room.
No comments:
Post a Comment