Parallax View Excerpt

Copyright ©2012 by Allan Leverone

All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be used, reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law, or in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is unintended and entirely coincidental.

Parallax View is dedicated to the selfless Americans who fight for freedom, toiling in obscurity, getting their hands dirty—and sometimes bloody—doing the jobs the politicians will never acknowledge, and the citizens will never know about.

Special thanks to Scott Carpenter for the outstanding cover art.

1

Nikolayev South Shipyard, Ukraine

May 20, 1987 – late in the Cold War

2:25 a.m.

Tracie Tanner carefully eased one drawer closed and opened another in the dented, World War II-era metal filing cabinet wedged behind the desk of the general manager’s office at Shipyard No. 444. Where’s that damned file? She’d been searching for nearly half an hour already with no luck, unable to decipher the Soviets’ Byzantine filing system.

Her eyes burned from the strain of reading reports typed in Cyrillic on substandard Russian-made typewriters, and she could sense time ticking away—surveillance reports indicated the guards’ patrol patterns included a walk-through of this very office every forty-five minutes or so.

The darkened office smelled sour, its cement block construction retaining the unpleasant fishy stench of the Black Sea combined with old sweat. She clenched a small penlight between her teeth to free up both hands for the search, and she worked methodically, flipping through file after file under the most likely tab headings.

Tracie, a CIA clandestine ops specialist, had been assigned to remove the guidance system software specs for the Soviet aircraft carrier Buka, scheduled for commission later this year, and replace them with bogus specifications. Construction had been completed on Buka years earlier, but bugs in the ship’s sophisticated software had delayed commissioning ever since.

Four years ago, in a successful nighttime operation, another CIA clandestine ops specialist had broken into this very office and replaced the proper specs with useless, CIA-generated data. Now the goal was to repeat the scenario and delay launch of the Buka for several more months, if possible.

Tracie worked quickly but thoroughly. Next to the office door the Soviet bureaucrat in charge had placed a large aquarium filled with exotic fish, and the steady drone of the water filter motor began to lull her into drowsiness. She blinked hard, closed the filing cabinet drawer, and opened another. She had worked her way through nearly two-thirds of the file cabinet and had found nothing.

And then, there it was. The first folder in the new drawer. It was blue, filled with several dozen sheets of numbers, diagrams and specifications. Tracie lifted out the folder and compared some of the sheets inside it to corresponding sheets of paper in the dummy file she had brought into the office. They appeared identical. The differences in the specifications were so minute it would take a team of engineers months to decipher the problem, and that was after they had discovered there was a problem.