The Transformation of John Gruneburg

By Robert H. Laudeman

The Transformation of John Gruneburg is a suspense novel whose theme is the timeless struggle of good over evil. This fictional narrative focuses on an exceptional Naval Officer whose devotion to duty, honor, and country entangles him in rogue missions tied to a top secret CIA covert operation.

Always loyal to the chain of command, he perseveres to complete each mission, being told that he is saving American lives. Psychologically broken, his sense of right versus wrong is overshadowed by his dedication to duty. The main character, John Gruneburg, struggles to escape from memories of his past. He becomes his own defender and prosecutor, knowing his past actions were wrong, while trying to justify why he did not have the moral strength to reject the orders that were imposed upon him. Reoccurring nightmares associated with his violent past lead to John's treatment for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

In book 3 of the series, The Transformation of John Gruneburg describes the accomplishments that lead to unmeasured pride for John and his family, experiencing the privilege to serve one's country while doing something that he enjoyed. Yet John has his moments when he contemplates the depth of his inner fears. Is he concerned that his reputation would be destroyed if his past was revealed, and he was identified as an assassin? Are his reoccurring nightmares associated with his violent past? Are the memories of past missions surfacing feelings of regret for what he had done? Or are his nightmares tied to his fear that his past will be exposed? What did he fear the most? Each time he went through the agony of introspective analysis, self-examining his own conscience, he ended with the same conclusion. It all came down to the fact that he must continue to conceal his past. His involvement with the CIA must remain hidden. Recognizing the government's investment in John's education and training, influential colleagues come to his aid. John struggles to suppress memories of the life he led as a CIA assassin, but in the end, a transformed Lieutenant Commander John Gruneburg rises from the ashes of his past.

Robert H. Laudeman is a retired federal employee with years of experience creating technical documents and reports in both industry and government. He began writing as a leisure activity and has enjoyed authoring The Transformation of John Gruneburg, his third venture into fiction. The Transformation of John Gruneburg is the final work of a three-part series, which begins with The Liberation of John Gruneburg and followed with The Transition of John Gruneburg.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098095925

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The Transformation of John Gruneburg

Robert H. Laudeman

Copyright © 2021 by Robert H. Laudeman

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this book are either a creation of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Acknowledgments

The encouragement of family and friends has been the driver that made this, my third book, a reality. The kind support of those who read and enjoyed The Liberation of John Gruneburg and The Transition of John Gruneburg inspired me to continue writing and complete The Transformation of John Gruneburg .

Family and friends offered their honest critique of my writing and provided a balance of praise and suggestions for improvement. The journey from outline to completion of the first draft, and subsequent editing of each revision, has been, at times, a challenge. Many have shared their talents and expertise, patiently reviewing my writing. I am grateful for their ongoing support.

Marcia Salvatore’s kind words at the beginning of my first book encouraged me to continue. Judy Wolfman and Ann Kline reviewed books one and two and suggested ways to improve my writing. Colleen Glennon provided insight into character development and suggestions to enhance the interaction between the story’s main characters. Diane Wargo and Joann and Chuck Holdorf have reviewed and edited drafts of my third manuscript, resulting in changes that improved and enriched the flow of the story. I am truly thankful to be blessed with such friends, my willing critics, who generously shared their time and knowledge.

Experience has confirmed that writing is 10% inspiration and 90% perspiration, and I have gained an appreciation of the time that is required to move a manuscript to a finished work. Completing a book takes many hours, at least for me. Nevertheless, the process from outline, to completing the first draft, and editing and rewriting my story, has remained an enjoyable and rewarding experience.

My wife, Barbara, supported me throughout this process. My daughters Karen, Jenny, and Amy and her husband, David Colberg, encouraged me as I worked on the series. My sincere gratitude and thanks to both family and friends for their kind, unwavering support throughout the writing process. You made it possible! Thank you! Thank you to all for making book three possible!

Dag Hammarskjöld

1905–1961

Swedish economist and diplomat who served as the second Secretary-General of the United Nations.

Your position never gives you the right to command. It only imposes on you the duty of so living your life that others can receive your orders without being humiliated.

Description of Cover Art

The blue dragon symbolizes the coming of spring, bringing to mind the clear skies that the season brings. Healing, success, and harmony are associated with blue dragons in Chinese culture.

Chapter 1

Settling into his seat on the Acela 2167, Lieutenant Commander John Gruneburg was getting comfortable, preparing for his trip from New York to Baltimore. Having rushed to New York’s Penn Station, John was relieved that he caught the 5:00 p.m. train, knowing that his 7:13 p.m. arrival in Baltimore would get him home to Annapolis just in time to help his wife, Wenli, tuck their son, James, into bed for the night. It was a routine that kept them close, a nightly ritual that cemented their family bond, thankful to be blessed with meaningful time together. James would turn five in August, and for John and Wenli, family activities were a priority. As working parents, there were never enough hours in the day, but they took full advantage of every moment together, appreciating their closeness as a family.

Heading home after an intense week at Columbia University, John was in good spirits because he had just resolved his graduation requirements with Columbia’s School of International and Public Affairs. Meetings with the Dean of the Political Science Department went extremely well, and the dean pledged his full cooperation as John transitioned to the Institut d’études politiques de Paris. Both universities had agreed on John’s dissertation requirements, the focus of his doctoral thesis, and the upcoming summer’s calendar.

John’s schedule would include lecturing assignments tied to a series of symposiums that concentrated on national security policies. He also received the course syllabus and text for the only course that he would be teaching throughout the summer. Even though the textbook was in French, as would be his instruction, the content was almost identical to the Intelligence and National Security course that John taught at the United States Naval Academy. The best news was that he would complete all coursework by the end of next summer, and a target date was set for John to present his dissertation in Paris to a joint committee from both universities. If everything went as planned, John would receive dual PhD degrees from Columbia’s Department of Political Science and the Paris Institute of Political Studies by the end of the following year.

Feeling relaxed, John sat back and pulled from his attaché case the textbook for the summer term’s teaching assignment. Picking up a yellow highlighter, he started to adjust his tray table when a young Asian woman, probably in her early twenties, stopped in the aisle next to the open seat to John’s left. After checking her ticket against the seat number, she tossed a University of Pennsylvania backpack in front of her seat and smiled. Her pearl white teeth were accentuated by her rose-red lip gloss as she flipped her head to one side, fanning her long black hair over her shoulder as she sat down. John had been watching her every move, and in his mind, he was asking, Is she a Chinese exchange student or an Asian American?

Just as he completed the thought, the young lady turned to John and confidently said, Hi! I had been sitting on this seat from Boston to New York, and when we stopped at Penn Station, I went to the café car for a beverage.

Somewhat surprised by the young lady’s quick introduction, John responded with a warm hello and asked, Are you a student at Penn?

Quickly giving John a once-over, she noticed that he was dressed in a light-gray well-tailored suit, white shirt, and tie. She was looking at someone who had maintained a youthful appearance. His trim physique showed an apparent level of physical fitness, the result of John’s afternoon time slot dedicated to staying fit, regardless if it was jogging, swimming, playing tennis, or walking a golf course.

Glancing at her backpack, she laughed and said, You’re observant! Looking at the textbook on his tray and the highlighter in his hand, she continued, You seem a little old to be a student, and you are too well dressed to be a teacher, you must be a prof.

John listened intently. Her English was flawless; her diction, every word pronounced perfectly, reflecting the results of what had to be a first-rate education.

Without hesitating, she continued with a smile, I got it right, didn’t I?

Again, a little surprised, John thought for a moment and responded, You’re fifty percent right.

Her response was immediate. What? Fifty percent? Then looking at John’s text, and apparently noticing the French title, she smiled once again and said, You must be teaching in a well-paying college and working on a doctoral degree.

Without hesitating, John asked, How did I do?

Making eye contact, she smiled and said, Fifty percent would be cutting you a lot of slack.

Intrigued by her response, John thought to himself, Did Wenli look any older when she earned her doctorate degree?

Growing impatient, waiting for a response, the young lady said, You’re not sure, are you? Without waiting for an answer, she continued, You put too much weight on my sister’s backpack. It’s a hand-me-down. Apparently having grown tired of the game, she explained, I’m a student at Harvard. My sister graduated from Penn.

While the young lady continued talking, John reached down and lifted his leather attaché case to his lap and pulled out a small photo album. He opened it and as soon as the young lady momentarily stopped talking, John quickly raised a photo and said, This is my wife, Wenli. She graduated from Harvard. You have a similar energy level and—

Interrupting, the young lady asked, Is she Chinese?

John’s affirmative yes was the start of a lively conversation that continued for the next hour, only coming to an abrupt end when the conductor announced, Philadelphia’s Thirtieth Street Station, next stop. Philadelphia’s Thirtieth Street Station, next stop!

Quickly gathering her backpack, the young lady said her goodbyes and, in a flash, was off the train. John checked his watch and thought, It’s 6:10 p.m., we’ll be at Baltimore’s Penn Station in one hour. Still holding Wenli’s photo in his hand, John looked at it for a long time, thinking how fortunate he was to have her as his wife.

Once again settling back into his seat, John thought back to Wenli’s time at Harvard and how she had advanced her career without fanfare. And now she was an associate professor at the United States Naval Academy and recognized as a Harvard-educated scholar. Intellectually gifted in her command of the Chinese language, she excelled in the classroom. Looking again at her photo, John felt a tinge of pride rush through his body. He remembered how honored they were last year when the academy’s administration recognized Wenli’s extraordinary accomplishments. After only five years at the academy, she was recommended for a promotion. Because she came to the academy with a doctoral degree and college teaching experience, she was granted tenure and promoted to associate professor. It was a big step in her career. John knew how much Wenli enjoyed her position at the academy and how happy she was that Annapolis had become their home.

He smiled and thought about how supportive she had always been; for as long as he could remember, Wenli had been there for him. Past years flashed through his mind, and then unexpectedly, he thought about the horror he experienced when his parents and younger sister were killed in a car accident. Wenli’s compassion kept him going. She was strong when he faced emotional exhaustion. These old memories hit home, taking him to a time he had forgotten. He remembered how he withdrew, how mentally despondent he was after that tragedy. She encouraged and helped him, believing that he would somehow endure the crisis, always there when he needed her. It was at that point in his life that he began to search for new challenges. Wenli tried to be helpful, at times questioning what he was searching for, openly expressing her need to discuss their future together, but he was too overwhelmed with grief to talk about it.

John closed his eyes and thought about his pain and his sorrow. It was a difficult time. Thinking of Wenli, he thought of those years when he was assigned to Operation Azov, under the leadership of the CIA’s Special Operations Group in Berlin. He was emotionally adrift. Accepting to live the life of a covert operative, assuming the alias John Volkov, alienated from his previous life, his insensitivity toward Wenli snowballed. Did he unconsciously take her for granted? Sadness engulfed him as he thought that he was gone for almost two years and never once contacted her. Not a phone call or letter was sent. How could he have forgotten his best friend? He was so lost.

For the past six years, he had suppressed that time in his life. Memories of those years, when surfaced, haunted him. Operation Azov had been portrayed as a legitimate agency mission. He was told he would be saving American lives, protecting national interests. In time, he realized he was eliminating noncombatants, assassinating individuals who were Russian nationals. They were wealthy businessmen whose only crime was to invest in Russia’s energy sector, aiming to privatize the industry. These entrepreneurs had become a threat to the Kremlin’s continued campaign to retain control of Russia’s oil and natural gas industries.

Nonetheless, he followed the chain of command, completing each mission without question. Then it happened. While carrying out his last mission, he was inadvertently shot and knocked to the ground. Falling, he hit his head hard, knocking him unconscious. The resulting concussion impacted his memory, not knowing who he was for weeks. His memory gradually returned, and when recalling that he had become an assassin, he was troubled. That was when the nightmares began. Memories of murderous acts that haunted his conscience. Seeing the faces of his victims in those dreams reminded him of that dreaded time in his life and subconsciously ate away at his sense of honor. Loathing that he had become an instrument of such despicable behavior, those memories now shamed him to his core.

He was a Navy officer, a man of honor. How were they able to manipulate him? They took full advantage of his need to serve. He was persuaded to carry out the most demanding missions, compliant even when outrageous commands were given. In the end he was drained of all emotion, mentally exhausted, psychologically broken, his sense of right versus wrong overshadowed by a dedication to duty. He always strived to be the good soldier, persevering to complete each mission, wanting to believe that he was protecting America’s national interests.

Thinking back, he realized that being shot, losing his memory, failing to complete that last mission probably provided the opportunity to escape from that life he detested. Being shot had saved him from an unrelenting moral decline. In time, he found his way back to Wenli, and it was her compassion that saved him. Her kindness was his saving grace. She righted his ship and helped him find his way back to a life where he could regain his honor.

Closing his eyes tightly, taking deep breaths, John struggled to relax, trying to calm his mind. Why did he so fear the unveiling of his hidden past? He thought about his last meeting with his psychiatrist, Dr. Joanna Kinsterson. She questioned what triggered his anxiety, causing his post-traumatic stress disorder. She was blunt, asking if his nightmares were tied to the gaps in his personnel file.

Pressing for answers, trying to understand the cause of his anxiety, she asked, What are you not telling me, John?

Was it the stigma of being treated for PTSD? Dr. Kinsterson had figured him out. She understood that his therapy and treatment for PTSD were sensitive issues. Emphasizing that she was not there to judge him, and as his doctor, she repeatedly told him that she respected his strength of character. Recognizing his belief that his inner strength would get him through his episodes of overwhelming stress, she told him, It is understandable that you hesitate to talk about your past. Nonetheless, she persisted, telling him, There are reasons for your anxiety, John. Can we discuss what they are?

John stayed silent, never opening up to Dr. Kinsterson, even though the weight of his hidden past mentally exhausted him. He was afraid of the humiliation, the destruction of his reputation at the academy, the disgrace of being identified as an assassin, and the possibility of being tried in an international court of law as a murderer. It would destroy his life. Were his nightmares associated with his violent past and the memory of missions that surfaced feelings of regret for what he had done? Or were they tied to his fear that he would be exposed and his veil of secrecy torn to shreds? He would no longer be considered a man of honor. What did he fear most? Regardless he knew he must continue to conceal his past. His involvement with Operation Azov must stay hidden.

John thought of how that last meeting with Dr. Kinsterson ended. Question after question about his secret past did not rattle him. That was a good sign. Feeling confident, he knew he was coming to grips with those lost years, and in doing so, he was positive about his plan to pursue a doctorate degree. He knew accomplishing that goal would secure a long-term position at the academy. He did not bend under Dr. Kinsterson’s questioning. Self-confidence was important to John. He believed it was critical that he never bent under pressure, and in his mind, he thought his family depended on him to stay strong. To him, it was his inner strength that sustained their peace of mind. It was essential that his family felt that they were safe and secure.

Stretching his arms over his head, John finally relaxed, knowing that he had transitioned from that violent past. He closed his eyes and was thankful for Wenli. But then he remembered what she told him just a few weeks ago, at President Kennedy’s gravesite. Her words reverberated in his mind, having a greater impact now than they did that day. Remembering when she said, I buried you once, John, how it shook him to his core. Recalling how she spoke with such strong conviction when she told him, I came to the conclusion that either you were dead or that you had abandoned me… John remembered how she tightly held his arm when she said, I reached the point where the only reasonable explanation was that you were dead.

That was the very first time that John grasped the cause of Wenli’s trepidation, the emotional burden that weighed on her after being contacted by Monica Schmidtski. Wenli understood that Monica was his colleague when he was assigned to the CIA’s Special Operations Group in Berlin. When Monica told Wenli that she feared for her life and expressed that she may be in danger because of her association with Operation Azov, she put Wenli over the edge. And now Wenli was expressing more than concern; her fears were validated by what Monica said. Wenli was fearing that if John’s connection to Monica was known, he too could be in danger. She was truly concerned that she could lose him, and it all stemmed from Monica coming back into their lives.

John thought back to when Wenli told him that Monica Schmidtski contacted her. His trained response was not to overreact. He instinctively knew that his first responsibility was to calm Wenli. In doing so, he downplayed Monica’s fears, but in his mind, he was analyzing what she had said, formulating a series of questions. Why did Monica mention Operation Azov? Six years had passed, what happened to resurface her involvement with that operation? Why would she be in danger, saying she feared for her life? She was a psychologist.

John thought back to his last days with Monica. In his mind, he once again questioned, what led to the deaths of their colleagues who were assigned to the Berlin office? Both the Head of Berlin Operations, Stephen Spearfoot, and his assistant, Heinrich Kochmandt, were murdered in such a way that it looked like a suicide. Were they assassinated? Why did the Deputy Director for Special Operations, Geoffrey Longsmelter, try to frame him for those murders? John was never able to answer those questions. He remembered his confrontation with Longsmelter. Why did Longsmelter try to shoot and kill him on the roof of the CIA’s New York City office? After so many years, those questions still left a knot in John’s stomach. Could they now be targeting Monica because she knew of the illicit dealings tied to Operation Azov? Wenli was right. If his connection to Monica were known, he too could be in danger.

Closing his eyes tightly, John felt troubled and uncomfortable with the decisions he had made. His thoughts went back to last summer when he met Monica, having not seen her for more than six years. He acted correctly, never giving the slightest indication that he knew her. He followed CIA protocol. She was the one that did not follow standard procedures. She should never have said that she recognized him.

Monica had overwhelmed him when she unexpectedly asked, You look familiar. Have we met before?

He kept his composure, defused her questioning, but it was the next day, when she told her story, that he caved. Now he was haunted by feelings of guilt. Monica had come back into their lives without warning. Meeting her at the Army Navy Country Club was a chance encounter. It was pure coincidence. He had imagined how she felt when she saw him, thinking that he was someone that she presumed to be dead. He understood that seeing him had to be a shock for her.

Monica told him how she mourned the loss of a colleague named John Volkov, someone who had become a close friend. After being told that it was unlikely that her colleague could be alive, she experienced flashbacks and nightmares. She explained that she faced an emotional meltdown, feeling anxious, thinking she would never see her colleague again. It was at that point that she recognized she was displaying symptoms of survivor’s guilt. Deep down, she believed that somehow, she expected to see her colleague again, but it never happened. It was not to be. In the end, she realized that her feelings of guilt were caused by her perception that she had done something wrong when she survived, and her colleague did not.

John remembered the look in her eyes when she told him, I had a classic case of survivor’s guilt.

He would never forget how he felt at that moment, knowing that he was that colleague. Monica had gotten him out of Ukraine safely. She had saved his life—both of their lives—with her quick actions in Vienna and Paris. Without her assistance, he never would have made it. She was the one who planned and arranged his travel back to the United States. Listening to her reflect on her past, he knew he owed her his life, and she deserved his allegiance. Monica had earned his respect, and when she told him her story, he caved and trusted her.

John’s thoughts then moved to Wenli’s recent encounter with Monica. Over and over, he analyzed Monica’s actions objectively. Had his emotions trumped his ability to make rational decisions when dealing with her? Was he unable to separate their past, their professional closeness, from his actions? It was his fault that Monica sought out Wenli looking for his advice. He had a lapse in judgment last summer when he confirmed to Monica that he was the John Volkov that she knew, had grown close to, and, in her mind, the colleague she had left behind. John now believed that he possibly rekindled their mutual feelings of respect and admiration, which led him to misjudge Monica’s ability to keep his identity a secret. He let his emotions take over and did not make decisions independent of his past relationship with her. It was a mistake to meet with her at the end of last summer, to let her know that her greatest fear was unfounded. She was not responsible for the death of John Volkov. He survived and was very much alive in the rebirth of John Gruneburg.

What most troubled him now was that he broke his own code by sending an e-mail message to Senator Sam McDowell and his friend Congressman Joseph Spencer. When he asked them to meet with Monica, he failed to appraise the situation before acting, and now he dreaded the thought that there may be consequences for his failure to use good judgment. He wanted to be supportive, and now he felt guilty that he gave Monica the ability to connect the dots and contact him to seek his assistance. He subjectively made decisions without considering the long-term consequences, and he dreaded the thought that he did not make the right choices with Monica—not only this spring but last summer. Now it seemed that his only option was to go to the Office of Naval Intelligence and explain his predicament to the rear admiral. Then he thought, how could he possibly justify that he contacted Monica Schmidtski? What he did was wrong, and the rear admiral would never accept his excuses. He could not face being chastised, knowing that the rear admiral had warned him to never contact Monica Schmidtski.

Stirring in his seat, John became increasingly uncomfortable. These unsettling memories continued to haunt him as he thought back to what Wenli said. She told me that she went to grief counseling, transitioning from denial to acceptance, experiencing the loneliness, accepting the loss, feeling only numbness, admitting that she felt so alone. He remembered that Wenli said she was depressed. Never before had he heard her mention that word. This was not the Wenli that he knew. Once again, he questioned his own sensitivity. Was he blinded by his own ambition, thinking only of his career, ignoring the possible danger that so frightened Wenli? Then he remembered her words, fearing that she would be alone, and James would be without a father.

Recent conversations came to mind, and Wenli’s questions echoed through his psyche, Will you be safe in France? Was it possible that a symposium participant would have known you in your previous life? It was all starting to hit home for John. Wenli was not getting lost in the detail; her fears were driving her concerns. He remembered her asking, What will the press releases say about your past? How will those lost years be accounted for in your biography? He remembered how stressed she was when she reminded him that even his close friend Lincoln LeChaud recognized a gap of two years in his military record. He needed to take Wenli’s advice and be certain that the Office of Naval Intelligence was creating documentation that filled those gaps with a credible military history and corresponding vitae.

Taking several deep breaths, closing his eyes tightly, John tried to relax. He wanted to be positive, to think about the many opportunities the summer would bring, but instead, his mind wandered to his family’s latest dilemma. Was it also his fault that his mother-in-law, Dr. Shuk Wa Lau, was now working as a contractor with the Central Intelligence Agency? Yes! Because of him, Monica Schmidtski contacted Shuk Wa when she needed a Chinese-language expert to work as her translator for upcoming meetings in China. It frustrated Wenli to know that when asked to consider the position, her mother was receptive. Telling Wenli that as an Asian American woman, this was an opportunity that awakened a deep desire to be of service to her country. This sudden surge of patriotism only irritated Wenli, thinking that Monica was wrongly influencing her mother. And now, Wenli could not believe that her mother accepted the position. She could not believe that her mother was collaborating with Monica, accompanying her to China and Hong Kong to meet with government officials to iron out a cybersecurity agreement with the Chinese.

John remembered how upset Wenli was when Shuk Wa broke that news to her. It exasperated Wenli, fearing the thought that if Monica was working with her mother, it could increase the chance that someone from his past would connect the dots and identify him with Monica and Operation Azov. Wenli told him that she dreaded the thought of someone making that connection, knowing that could reignite his post-traumatic stress disorder and possibly put his life in danger. John now understood that he was at fault. It was his poor judgment that brought Monica back into their lives.

Eyes still closed, unconsciously shaking his head from side to side in disbelief, John remembered how Shuk Wa tried to explain that her intention was to protect him. She was thinking that if she got involved with Monica, it would keep her away from him and Wenli. Shuk Wa admitted that she understood Wenli’s concerns, but when Monica asked for her assistance, Shuk Wa realized that she had a true desire to serve her country. In her mind, she thought that this might be the only opportunity to be of service to her country that would come her way. She asked them to understand that she needed to do this for her own benefit. Telling them that it became a matter of principle, knowing that she would be worthy of the government’s trust. Shuk Wa pleaded with them that they would not think that she was being inconsiderate or insensitive to Wenli’s fears.

John then thought back to this past weekend, the last time he and Wenli were together with her mother. Remembering their conversation, he was shocked when Shuk Wa said, CIA Deputy Director for Global Operations, Bethanne Longfield, told Monica that someone who was once the Deputy Director for Special Operations in the CIA’s New York office was killed by the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service. His name was Geoffrey Longsmelter.

Hearing that name sent waves of emotion rushing through John’s body. Taking him by surprise, determined not to overreact, it took all he had to maintain his self-control. It had been years since he heard someone mention Geoffrey Longsmelter’s name. The mere mention of that name still troubled John as he thought, How could the Russians justify killing Geoffrey Longsmelter? Why would they take such a risk? It had to do with something that jeopardized Russian interests. And now this information only added to his anxiety. John’s feeling of surprise when hearing this news quickly turned to one of concern. His immediate reaction was to question, Why? And the question that worried him the most continued to reverberate in his mind, Was this also connected to Operation Azov?

Trying to relax, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, taking long deep breaths, thinking to himself, Am I overreacting? Pondering the answer to that simple question focused his mind on what he must do. Regaining his composure, John decided on what he believed to be his best course of action. Tomorrow morning, he would contact Senator McDowell, Congressman Spencer, and NSA’s George Harthmann and schedule a meeting to