* * *
The Prime Minister’s office offered a refreshing alternative to the conference room: ornate wood, leather chairs, modern paintings, technology aplenty. Grebeshkov’s own office would have comfortably fitted in one corner but his mood wasn’t one of jealousy, more curiosity as to why he and Arkady Valentin were the only ones so honoured. The Prime Minister looked drawn and pensive, his fingers tapping out an irregular beat on the desktop, the expectations of a nation weighing heavily on his shoulders.
Yet there had been some good news, primarily the identification of the apartment where Nazarenko and Baranovskiy had been staying. The contents of its three rooms would keep the forensic teams busy for some time, some in the media already building up the discovery as the beginning of the end for August 14. Pressure on the security forces remained intense, their targeting of East European visitors and foreign workers becoming ever more oppressive, people stopped and searched simply because of their accent.
Baranovskiy’s interrogators had similarly been encouraged to produce more, whatever the risks, something his injuries and ultimately his heart had failed to appreciate. Now Nazarenko was the FSB’s sole asset, a resource whose value was fast diminishing. For the Prime Minister, however, Nazarenko’s knowledge was a crucial guide as to their next move.
“It is time for more direct action,” the PM said, as though trying to convince himself. “However, where Eastern Europe is concerned we must tread carefully and Russia cannot be seen to act without just cause. I need to be absolutely sure of complicity before I make any recommendations to the President.” The Prime Minister looked sharply at Grebeshkov, “Dmitry, I understand you have something more from Nazarenko?”
“Yes, Sir. It’s taken a little time but Nazarenko has confirmed he received weapons training at a site in Lithuania. He was one of twelve recruits, eight men, four women, who stayed there from September until early December, and we should have names and descriptions of Nazarenko’s remaining associates in a day or so. There were five instructors, including Eglitis, all American or East European, presumably ex-military. With luck, based on Nazarenko’s detailed descriptions, we should be able to identify most of them.”
“Excellent, Dmitry, we seem to be getting somewhere at last. “And you believe his disclosures are generally reliable?”
“Yes, Sir; the drugs can make him confused and so progress is relatively slow; if we push him too hard then he will start to say whatever he thinks we want to hear.”
“I understand he’s confirmed the location of the training camp as the one in Dzūkija?”
“He’s not sure of the exact location, Sir, and I doubt he ever knew exactly where in Lithuania he was; however, his description of the site is an exact match to the satellite images.”
“Lithuania – it’s hardly ideal. And I doubt NATO will react well to any incursion.” The Prime Minister paused, thinking through their options. “Arkady,” he asked finally, “I assume you have enough assets in the area?”
“We will have shortly, Sir,” Valentin replied. “The site is south-west of Vilnius, a small dacha settlement of four cottages on the edge of the Dainava Forest. We have now identified a total of sixteen residents, lightly armed, minimal security. However, it’s impossible at the moment to guarantee they’re part of August 14.”
“Absolute confirmation is not that easy to find,” Grebeshkov added. “There might well be some documentary proof at the site but retrieving it has its own dangers. Unfortunately, Sir, Director Valentin and I are concerned that the number of terrorist cells introduced into Russia could well be greater than Nazarenko’s suggested total of just four.”
“Concerned? Or is it something more definite?”
Valentin was quick to explain, “Simple maths, Sir. Nazarenko spent three months in Lithuania, arriving here in December; that easily gives August 14 time to train at least one more group, even if they took a couple of months off for a winter break. Of course, it’s also possible these sixteen presently in Lithuania have been there since December, rather than being brand-new recruits, or even that they have nothing at all to do with August 14.”
The Prime Minister gave a deep sigh of frustration, fingers tapping absently, trying to work out the best way forward. “We have to assume the worst-case scenario. If you’re right, we could easily be looking at eight or more terrorist cells already inside Russia, with several more preparing to join them.”
“Lithuania,” Valentin said, “could supply all of the answers we so desperately need: who finances them, how many of their people are actually here, names, faces... perhaps even the identity of their leaders. Evidence we could then use to justify such an attack. Conversely, there are significant risks, and the diplomatic repercussions of any action must be carefully weighed against the potential rewards.”
There was a long silence while the Prime Minister made up his mind. “Let’s be very clear,” he said, emphasising each word. “Are you both agreed that this site in Lithuania has been, or indeed still is, a training camp for terrorists; specifically for those of August 14.”
Valentin’s response was immediate, “Yes, Sir.”
Grebeshkov knew it was too late to have second thoughts and what happened next wasn’t down to him. “I agree, Sir. However, I must formally advise that the consequences of military action on Lithuanian soil could be disastrous.”
“We must tread carefully, Sir,” Valentin reaffirmed.
The Prime Minister slammed his hand down onto the table, irritated by their lukewarm support, “How many more terrorists can we allow Lithuania to train before we react – ten, twenty, a hundred... They abuse our friendship and you expect us to do nothing?” Abruptly, he waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal, “Your opinions are duly noted, gentlemen; however, we must act decisively, the Russian people expect nothing less.”