| "A Mind Made Up" | ||
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Hotel Destiny May 9th, 2008, 0800 hours Lima Time The alarm went off, waking him instantly. Despite his exertions the previous night he felt refreshed after his sleep and set about getting things ready for the meet later in the day. The information on floors one to four was already in the envelope, a typically nondescript brown one. After showering and dressing he sat down and watched TV, mulling over the details of the meet. It bothered him, the fact that they were meeting in such an open place with people wandering around, but it couldn't be helped. He would just have to be vigilant. He decided to arrive early and scout the area, just in case, he told himself. Truth was he wasn't too hot on the idea of meeting a CIA agent in the flesh. It wasn't just the fact that he didn't fully trust the CIA, though that was partially the case. It was more to do with the fact that this would be his first face-to-face meet with an officer outside of his own agency. He would have preferred to exchange the information via a brush-pass, seeing as he was extremely proficient in the technique, but his orders were for him to meet the CIA officer, so that was what he would do.Before leaving he removed the silenced pistol from the record box and placed it in the small of his back. He did this in such a manner as to disguise the action from the cameras he was sure were in the suite monitoring him. Central Park Library May 9th, 2008, 0904 hours Lima Time He scouted out the area surrounding the library, for all the world looking like a tourist in a city of tourists. After committing the area to memory he decided to take a look inside. He walked casually up the steps and into the building. Inside he was confronted with the vastness of the place; the rows of books seemed to stretch into infinity. He had never been one to feel at home in such a large area, nor one filled with so much information. He much preferred learning from experience than from books, and that translated into the slight uneasiness he felt now. He walked around the entire area, noting people and positions, before he ascended the stairs to the second floor. Once there he repeated the procedure he used on the first floor, learning the area and its occupants, committing them to memory so that if something should appear different he would instantly realise and be able to make his escape. He had already identified three possible escape routes, and set about ranking them in order according to their practicality and feasibility. Now all he had to do was wait. Central Park Library May 9th, 2008, 1012 hours Lima Time From his position he was able to watch the multitude of people who wandered around the various racks of books, occasionally picking one out to look at before putting it back, not realising they were being watched by someone whose own placement prevented them from viewing him accurately. He noticed the blonde woman from the night before, the one who had requested Tina Moore. He briefly thought back to how she had flirted with him, how he had had to pull back to protect himself from her charms, and he now hoped that she wouldn't walk up the stairs to his floor; he didn't want her to see him, lest it provide a new variable in the mission. The woman obviously didn't have a telepathic connection with him as she slowly ascended the stairs up to the second floor. He watched as she made her way past the rows of books, her head moving ever so slightly as she passed each rack, as if she were counting, and in that instance he realised that she was his contact. Fuck, his mind raged, yet another complication. How was he going to play this? Surely she couldn't know that he worked for the RGZS. Maybe she had been told he worked for the SVR. He pondered how to play it as he rose from the desk he had been sitting at and slowly made his way over to her. As he did so he remembered that he had let a slight Russian accent creep into his voice the previous night � it made sense because he was covered as a Russian � and so he decided to continue in that vain. Maybe he could even fool her into thinking he was an American who could speak Russian. You better make up your mind quick, he told himself as he moved past the fifth rack and into the Hawkings section. She was standing there flicking through one of the books, her face locked in a cute thoughtful expression, as if she was working out something from the book. He wondered how his was going to gain her attention without startling her, and decided on saying, "The time has come, for me to open my eyes, blind before, when I left you before�" When she looked up at him he said, "I played your song last night." "Mr DJ," she smiled. "Moonlighting?" Nikolai shrugged as he picked a book from the shelf, opening it. "Hawkins." "Great mind," she told him. "Yes," he agreed, then decided to play dumb. "But what's with these pictures?" The woman leaned over to look, giving Nikolai a better look himself, though at something completely different, and he quickly adjusted his eyes to focus on the page. "That my record spinning friend," she explained as she pointed to something on the page, "is quantum physics, see?" He nodded. "Can have one of these guys two places at once. Simply mind boggling, really." "Simply mind numbing," he replied, amused at the situation. This meet was nothing like what he had envisioned, and neither was his contact. The men at CIA had probably felt the need to have a bit of eye-candy to look at, and the girl certainly fitted that job description. Had she been in the SVR she would most probably have been put through the Sparrow School, and Nikolai was sure she would have made a fine pupil. Turning his mind back to the task in hand, he reached into his pocket and felt the envelope, its texture slightly rough. "Unfortunately, I did not come here to discuss physics with you, though I fear I wouldn't be able to hold up my side of the conversation anyway." He pulled the envelope out and handed it to her. "Schematics of the fourth floor, guards, schedules, and cameras." "Anything on the fifth?" she asked. Now, she didn't actually ask if he had anything on the fifth floor, not explicitly anyway. As far as he knew she could simply have been asking if there was anything on the fifth floor in the envelope he had just handed to her. "No," he said, "there is nothing about the fifth floor. He does spend a lot of his time there though, apparently with his latest mistress, though that is just what I've heard from a few of the guards." He saw her pause for a moment, as if he had just said something that had more meaning than he would have realized.The envelope disappeared into her pocket and was replaced with another one, which she handed to him. "Sniffer, needs to be put on the main feed coming into the fourth floor, should be towards the back of the building," she told him. So, they wanted him to plant a sniffer. That could mean they were planning a hit. Shit, he thought, what is going on? This was supposed to have been a lot simpler than this. How the hell did he manage to get caught up in this? Working with the fucking CIA! He knew that he should have a little more trust, seeing as Sergei was already on good terms with them, but he still felt the traditional Russian Intelligence Officer uneasiness towards the CIA, despite the fact that he wasn't technically a Russian. Well, he'd lived as one for long enough to consider himself to be one, and that meant that dealing with the Americans was not something he should be looking forward to. "I know the one," he replied, coming back to the conversation. He determined that this was as good a time as any to find out whether something was being planned. "What else?" he enquired. She responded with a blank expression that told him more than she would have liked. "What else?" "Yes," he said, "when does the party start, and who's invited?" "Once the intel is in place I'm sure your people will be contacted with all the details." "Fair enough." He shifted his weight slightly as he prepared to leave, unsure of what the female agent was thinking. Hopefully she wasn't going to ask him any questions. He didn't want to be stuck around here for any longer than necessary. As if she has read his mind the intelligence officer said, "Well, thanks for the intel." He nodded his acknowledgement and watched as she moved past him and towards the stairs. His eyes followed her progress until she left his sight. Looking around, he made sure he had left no trace of his existence. Nothing, he saw with satisfaction. He replaced the book, secure in the knowledge that even if the protective pads he wore on each finger failed to prevent his prints transferring onto the book then the print itself was of no known man. His footwear had been changed as he arrived in the vicinity of the library, so any mud or dirt particles found would not indicate where he had been. All in all it would appear as if he had never been here. Sergei had trained him well. Nikolai began his descent of the staircase in the knowledge that the CIA officer would probably be waiting for him outside, though not to continue the conversation. Sure enough she was waiting for him, though she was by the helpdesk. Nikolai made eye contact with her for a brief second before he exited the building. He briefly debated following her, and as he slipped back into the routine he used in the SVR he walked quickly to the rear of the building. The hunch paid off as he watched her leave via the back entrance. He tailed her as she walked towards the park, making sure that he kept his distance whilst still maintaining visual contact. He watched as she climbed into a parked car, noting that she didn't get into the drivers seat. That meant that she wasn't working alone on this. There was a possibility that the other person in the car was the blue-haired individual she was with last night, but he dismissed that thought. Blue was probably not part of it, just a hapless male she had picked up. If Blue turned up to be CIA then Nikolai would have to congratulate the man, for anyone to work effectively as an intelligence officer while making himself as unobvious as a nuclear submarine in a bath deserved respect, closely followed by a psychiatric evaluation. That last thought elicited a grin as he turned away and headed for the hotel. Hotel Destiny May 9th, 2008, 1631 hours Lima Time He opened the door of his suite and walked in, noting that the place hadn't been searched as the tell-tales he had placed had not been disturbed. He walked into the kitchen area and opened up the fridge, grabbing a bottle of milk and draining the contents before heading over to the couch and switching the TV on. This was his little reward for getting the sniffer in place, and he took the opportunity to relax. Instead of watching it though he found his mind wandering. His first thought was Yelena. He hadn't spoken to her for� what was it now? Five days? Had it really been that long? It felt like a lifetime to him. He wished he could hold her now; he needed that in his life to suppress the demons. For their part the demons were keeping quiet at the moment, not disturbing his thoughts as they had done periodically throughout the day, questioning him, goading him, torturing him, waiting for a response then probing even further. He had not let them get the better of him yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time, he was only so strong, he couldn't fend them off forever. They were systematically wearing him down, like the sea wears down a rock, little by little. His earlier thought came back to him: the best form of defense is offence. In order to stop his demons he had to remove them. And I'll start with you Alexei, he told himself. On Route to Club Samovar May 9th, 2008, 1924 hours Lima Time The cool breeze flowed round his body as he made his way along the street, veering in and out of the other people who were moving around him, oblivious to the danger he potentially posed to them. If any of these people were to make the wrong move on him they could end up dead, yet none of them knew it, though none of them thought to try. Maybe they could tell, Nikolai thought, because he hadn't been harassed in any way since he got here. Then again, that could be down to sheer luck. His mobile phone rang, breaking his thoughts, and as he looked at the screen he saw that it was a number being displayed, not a name, so this wasn't anyone connected with the club. It took him a second before he recognized the number, and when he did he thumbed answer. "Yes," he said. "Events will be initiated late tonight by external forces. You are to assist if necessary. You are not to take part in events under any other circumstances." The line went dead, leaving Nikolai to ponder the meaning of the phone call. `Events' meant there would be shooting involved, but he had his silenced pistol in the record box he was carrying, so that wouldn't be a problem. `External forces'� that must be the CIA. So they were initiating things late tonight. He had the late set tonight, 0000-0200 hours. Was that planned? He reasoned that it must have been, simply because he would be there from eight pm to three am, so whenever the action took place he would be able to assist, as Sergei had told him he had to do. The one thing that troubled him as he walked through the main doors, escorted by a guard, and into the club was the last part of the conversation: You are not to take part in events under any other circumstances. Did that mean that he would not get his chance to remove Alexei himself and partly appease his anger over his demons? He hoped not. Otherwise he would have to find and remove Him, the main demon, the one he had let get away, only for him to return now and challenge him. One thing was for sure: he was not going to let his child grow up in a world where He existed. Return |
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