Honor's Loss 2/?
Day 1831
CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia
2332 Zulu
It is obvious this interview has been going on for some time—there are empty cups and take-out boxes scattered throughout the room, the air is heavy with smoke and two ashtrays are filled nearly to overflowing with stubbed out cigarette butts.
On one side of the table is an older man—probably mid 60's—slouched dejectedly in a hard plastic chair. On the other side of the table both agents are currently seated, although they frequently take turns pacing while the older man is answering their questions. As he speaks it is quite obvious by his heavily accented English that the older man is Russian, but by the tale he's told so far, he hasn't seen his homeland in several years. What's he's confessing to happened in the head of the desert, not the cold climes of Siberia's plains.
"What happened next?" one of the agents—Brooks—asks.
"Jasim, the leader of the compound, informed me he had changed his mind and was not going to set me free," Patrov, the Russian man, answers. His speech may be thickly accented, but he has a clear grasp on the English language and he speaks it without trouble. "He told me he had another subject for me. I am grateful this man was the last."
"Why was he the last?"
"He failed," Patrov answers simply. "After the failure I was told I was no longer useful. They were prepared to execute me when your military forces liberated the compound."
"Why did you ask for asylum in the US?" Benner asks, one of the rare questions he's put voice to.
"These men lured me from my home with promises—promises they promptly broke. To the outside world things have changed in my homeland; in reality there are many places there that have not conformed to the new ways. Where I lived was one of them," Patrov pauses a moment to collect his thoughts and have a sip of tepid coffee. Benner and Brooks wait patiently—they sense the man has something important to tell them and are wise enough to know he'll do it on his own time. "When the Soviet Union fell, men came to my house and took my wife and daughter. They said as long as I cooperated with what they wanted me to do, my family would be safe. When Jasim approached me, he promised to liberate my wife and daughter. Two weeks after we left my homeland his men returned with their bodies. Jasim simply laughed and told me that was what would happen to my brother and his family if I did not cooperate with him. I still do not know if anything happened to them."
"Why did you wait until now to step forward?" Benner again speaks out. "You've been in this country for several years now."
"I heard a news broadcast mention an attempt to assassinate your president nearly four years ago, and how that attempt has brought about changes in the security arrangements. The story mentioned no one ever knew what happened—it was never discussed as more than a small blurb on the evening news, although it was mentioned there were rumors that the man who made the attempt was not killed in the attempt. I had hopes that if I told my story someone could tell me what happened to him."
"Why does he concern you?" Brooks challenges.
"I believe he and my final subject are the same man. It took far longer than Jasim was happy with to condition him—even when he was sent, I protested he wasn't ready. Jasim insisted, so he was sent. The man I remember had much honor and the strength and determination to back it up—I had to break him down in layers. If he made the attempt and failed to execute his conditioning, I would be extremely relieved," Patrov explains.
Benner and Brooks share a glance, communicating silently. They agree his story needs looking into. If they can locate his family, maybe it would be in the best interest of the government to bring them here. If his story checks our and if it is felt they can trust him, then they may share some of the details with him, but only with authorization. "I'm afraid there isn't anything we can tell you," Brooks says finally.
Patrov opens his mouth to object, and closes it quickly when his rational side informs him their decision—from their perspective at least—is wise. "I understand," he accepts, not pressing the issue. He gathers his few papers and shrugs his coat on when it becomes apparent the interview is at an end.
Benner turns back to Patrov as the three reach the door. "You don't remember the name of your last subject do you?" he asks.
"I have my freedom because of him, of course I remember. His name was an odd one—Harmon Rabb," Patrov answers a little wounded. He sees the man's face in his dreams every night; he'll not soon forget.
"We'll check into it and see if we can come up with anything," Benner offers, hoping to keep the older man from noticing Brooks' excitement—he needs to have a serious talk with his partner. As soon as he reaches his office after escorting Patrov out of the building—leaving him with the possibility of another interview—Benner stops briefly at his secretary's desk. "Get me Webb," he requests before shutting himself in his small office.