Rio De Janeiro , Brazil The president ’ s voice , inflected with the youthful , patrician tones many credited with swinging his last campaign , Candles , their muted light reflected around the room , framed the stairs at the center of the ambassador ’ s home . The jazz band to the left of his table was plodding its way through the chorus when the Soviet delegation slid through the gate , two hours past schedule .
lastair Pearson ‘ 14
Rio De Janeiro , Brazil The president ’ s voice , inflected with the youthful , patrician tones many credited with swinging his last campaign , Candles , their muted light reflected around the room , framed the stairs at the center of the ambassador ’ s home . The jazz band to the left of his table was plodding its way through the chorus when the Soviet delegation slid through the gate , two hours past schedule .
As the Russian director , Ilya Federov , stalked past the door guards , Roberts left a last , lingering gaze at the statue nestled under the stairwell . His Texan attaché whispered him luck before slipping a mike under his collar . He strode forward and extended Federov a firm hand , clasping him on the back and inserting a perfunctory wire-tap into the supervisor ’ s steel-gray suit . Both men would be checked before sitting down , but he would never bet against carelessness . Straightening himself , he looked the Russian over once more . Time had for so long forgotten Ilya ; war had hardened him to the sufferings of normal men , and his mind , lethally sharp , had almost mechanically advanced him through the Politboro . His rise was assisted by a reputation of indisputable success , a reputation that , as of yet , was unblemished . “ Fedorov .” “ Roberts .”
And that was that . The greeting had cost the Soviets three minutes . He made an abrupt , rightangle turn towards his table , and kept an intentionally measured pace on the way back . Federov hadn ’ t seemed suspicious , but he couldn ’ t trust his judgment , and the window to strike was shrinking . One distraction , and he could seize intel sensitive enough to kill the Soviet military for a decade . His glasses tilted back towards the chandelier , ten feet to the left of the Eastern Bloc seating , and he leaned towards the Texan . “ Alright . Grab them at the stairwell .” The attaché ’ s hands drifted under the table , his arms momentarily blurring as he searched for the radio . “ We ’ re go , chief .” Roberts , making an excusatory gesture towards the Soviets , sprinted upstairs towards the lone telephone . Russian security was dense - at least two guns to each exit . Even official approval couldn ’ t guarantee his success , and he didn ’ t have that yet . The ring , right on time , could be heard throughout the house . Roberts cursed himself for not cutting the phone ’ s speakers , and picked up just as Fedorov turned towards the balcony . “ Sir , are we clear to proceed ?” sounded loud and true . “ God bless , continue with all necessary force .” He set the phone back in its rest and calmly walked to the balcony railing , where he lent over and gave the nod that sent the plan into action . As the Texan relayed the message , Roberts began to descend the stairs . With two steps left , Fedorov arose and began barking orders in Russian . Twenty members of the Eastern delegation unsheathed pistols from jacket pockets and shoe holsters , and Roberts could only watch as the first barrage smashed into his aides . The attaché , hit in the left arm , swung the table upwards and pulled one of the embassy marines behind him before lunging for the radio transistor . One long , whining tune blared from the shortwave , igniting twenty kilograms of plastic explosive tucked inside the statue . A fireball blossomed in the center of the room , the sudden intake of air freezing the gunmen in place before almost impetuously exploding them outwards . Fedorov , thrown backwards by the blast , was groggily reasserting himself when he was hit by a flying tackle . Roberts threw two quick jabs , then started searching the Russian ’ s unconscious body for the promised papers . Satisfied , he crouched under a nearby ledge , while security poured in from above to neutralize the last of the Soviet resistance . He scanned Fedorov ’ s dossier , and motioned for a phone . “ Mr . President , we ’ ve got the roster . Every new addition to the Soviet hierarchy , one month before the changeover is implemented , every address , and no security . If we strike - ” Roberts crumpled to the floor , his chest left ablaze by the heat of the bullet ’ s exit . Fedorov , his grizzled face marred by matching bruises , clutched a pistol drawn from a Russian corpse . As security converged on them , the pair locked eyes . “ Roberts .” “ Fedorov .” “ Duck ...” And , as Roberts stared unthinkingly at the Soviet ’ s grin , it clicked . Duck ... A grenade pin clattered to the floor . He would never bet against carelessness .
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