by Stephen Makk
“Not bad,” said Gorevoy. “Not bad for a traitor suka.”
He turned to one of his men. “Is she worth it? Her body isn’t bad is it?” The man nodded.
“Then help yourselves, men. Her pussy is yours. Traitors deserve rape. She looks like she’s asking for it. Do with her what you will.”
Yana knew she’d failed. It had been for nothing. She closed her eyes and shook her head. No, please no.
Chapter 6
GOREVOY WATCHED AS the first man lifted her legs onto his shoulders and started to unfasten his belt. He wondered if his leader had other ideas for her? Maybe he wanted her for himself?
“Wait. Stop.”
He took out his cell phone and dialled.
“Sir, I caught the Ukrainian bitch from American TV.” Gorevoy nodded. “Yes Sir. Yana Borisova. I didn’t ask her, she wants to speak to you.”
“Here bitch. Speak to him.”
She took the phone.
“What do you want, Yana?” said Ustyugov.
She’d use the password.
“I have an invite to Boris’s birthday.”
Ustyugov started. “And when is his birthday?”
“On the third of March.”
Ustyugov raised his eyebrows. “At what time? And what place?” he asked.
She slowly replied, “The time of the Owl. The cave of green.”
“It’s food?”
“A bridge to France.”
He was amazed she knew the codes. “What do you want?”
“First I want these shits to cover my tits over and pull my pants back up.” She passed the man the phone; he told the two men to cover her and then passed the phone back to her.
“Now what, Yana?”
“You thought I was a traitor, I think you now know I’m not.”
“I agree. We thought you were. But your broadcasts; they were anti-Russian.” He closed his eyes. He was speaking to the traitor, to the bitch. It was difficult to believe that she may not be what she seemed. “Why, Yana? Why did you do that?”
“I lived amongst them, criticized and cursed Russia in order to gain their trust. I hated what I said, but it was a deceit. The Americans needed to think I was on their side. I needed to gain their trust. It’s taken longer than you know, but I now have that trust. I know what they plan for Mother Russia; I know all of it. The CIA has sent me on a mission to contact the Ukrainian resistance, as they call it.”
Ustyugov scowled. “Our people, once they caught you, they planned punishment for a traitor’s resistance.”
“It’s not those fools who matter. It’s what the Americans plan that does. I had to take the risk, I had to try to contact you. Ustyugov. The Americans see an opportunity. The Ukraine unrest gives them a pretext. It gives them a pretext to carry out something. Something that will be of great harm to the Motherland.”
Ustyugov could see this was an opportunity; the Kremlin would be pleased with him. If her information was critical enough.
“What is their plan?”
She told him at great length of the American plans. All the details. She left nothing out.
Ustyugov smiled, this would be of great interest to the Kremlin. Vital interest.
“You must come to the Kremlin with me.”
“No. Ustyugov. I must return to the Americans. They must be convinced that I made contact with the resistance. You have the information now, you can visit the leadership alone.”
“Yes, Yana. That’s good, I’ll see to it that you return to them.”
“We will speak again Ustyugov.” She hung up.
She looked at him.
Outside she knew Nathan would be trying to rescue her. He needed help.
“Now Gorevoy. Ustyogov told us to keep an eye out. Put a guard outside, you’ve enough men. Do it.”
Gorevoy turned to one of his men. “Outside. Do as she says.” The man walked to the door and left.
“I’ve got what I wanted, I spoke to Ustyogov,” she smiled. “Now I want something more.”
“Anything.”
“I’ve lived in America for a long time. I’ve come to like things. Things only men can give me. Pull up my shirt up again and pull down my jeans. Hit me.” Gorevoy hesitated. “I said hit me, now.”
He hit her with his fist.
“Now the shirt, jeans and panties,” she nodded to one of the men, “he can do it.”
Two men pulled up her shirt, roughly pulled down her jeans and panties. They started their rough work on her, beating, slapping.
“Harder. Hit me Harder.” They hit her again. “Hit me again, hard.” Gorevoy couldn’t believe she wanted this, but she obviously did.
“Now fuck me. Come on, do it.” The men looked at him. With her eyes wide and nostrils flared, she spread her legs.
“I want cock.”
“You heard what the slut wants. Give it to her.”
NATHAN CROUCHED AMONG thick evergreens eight yards from the cabin, it was quiet. He couldn’t hear sounds from inside, no one seemed to be outside either. She was in there he knew it, but how the hell was he going to get her out? She’d been captured by the Russians or their Ukrainian minions. God only knows what they’d do with her. He had to get inside, but how?
There were three in there with her and at least one was armed. He’d no gun, how could he do it? First, he’d have to carry out a recce, find out more about the place. He set off clockwise, skirting the undergrowth. A sound, it was a car approaching. The headlights played over the cabin. He lay among the bushes for concealment. Three men got out and went inside. Damn, thought Nathan, there were six of them now. He circled the cabin trying to hear what was going on, searching for a way in. He found a pile of large rough sticks, it was the best he could do, so he picked one up. A distraction, it was all he could think of. Could he start a fire?
He searched what seemed like a storage area. He heard a sound, a door. The front door? He was almost back to the front door when a man emerged and walked counter-clockwise towards him. Twigs under the man’s feet snapped. Nathan pulled back into the bushes by the first trees. Keep quiet, he mustn’t be seen. The man drew level, he’d a dark coat on and a woolly hat. He passed just yards from Nathan, he was now five yards away with his back turned. This may be his chance. Nathan rushed him and hit him with the stick. The man groaned and rolled onto his back, and his hands reached up for Nathan’s neck. Nathan pushed back, but the man was too strong, and he felt the hand gripping his throat. He felt himself choking and pushed against the hands that were gripping, gripping the life out of him. Desperate, he still had the stick. He did the last thing he wanted to, he took his hands away from his neck. He let the man squeeze his throat. Nathan pulled down the stick hard across the back of the man’s neck and pulled him in towards him. He pulled and pulled as hard as he could. The man’s hands couldn’t squeeze as hard. Nathan pulled the stick and crushed the man’s neck against his shoulder. Harder, longer. The man struggled. He was weaker now, finally, the struggle left him. Nathan pulled and pulled when he knew it wasn’t needed. The man was dead, choked. Still Nathan pulled, his blood was up. Finally, he stopped. His breath was ragged, his arms ached. He went through the man’s pockets. In a jacket side pocket, he found a pistol. He took it, stood and brushed his hand through his hair. This was it.
YANA HATED IT. SHE was hit and bitten. They roughly rubbed and slapped her boobs and pussy. One of them started to take off his jeans, and his eyes had one thing in them. Brutal rape.
There was a thwack of wood, and the door burst open. Nathan came in holding up a pistol. A Makarov noticed Gorevoy, he must have taken it from his man outside.
“Freeze, motherfuckers.” Gorevoy and his underlings took a chance and ran out of the back door.
Nathan didn’t shoot, he knew it might provoke a firefight.
“Jeez, Yana.”
She sat there; her bra, jeans and panties had been pulled off. There were bruises on her face.
He walked over to her, brushed the hai
r from her eyes and stroked her cheek. She noticed the concern in his eyes.
“Come on. Let’s get you back to the boat.” He untied her and helped her to dress. “It’s over now Yana. You’re safe.”
She sobbed. “Thank you, Nathan. Thank you.” She held him and sobbed. “Thank you.”
They made their way outside to a waiting car.
“IT’LL BE DAWN SOON Nathan. We must stay in the forest until tonight. There are several hunting lodges around here, we’ll look for one and stay until nightfall.”
An hour or so later she spotted a cabin in the forest; there were a few snacks inside. They helped themselves. Nathan got the stove going, it would provide some heat.
Yana hadn’t gone through an experience like that one before. The rough abuse, the hate. It was... she shuddered. She needed tender compassion.
“Nathan. There’s a bunk with just two blankets.”
“It’ll do for you. I’ll sleep in the chair.”
Yana smirked. “No. there’s not much heat and nothing to do until dark.” She started to undress.
“Yana, what...?”
“Come on, we’ve all day; what are you waiting for?” She smiled as she dropped her panties. “We can keep each other warm.”
He considered for a second or two whether he should climb in with this naked siren. It was fourteen hours or so until dark and it seemed the right thing to do. That was his excuse anyway.
After dark they were soon back in Novoazovs’k. All was quiet. There was no one about. They entered the alleyway by the car dealership. Nathan found the torch still hidden behind the paint cans. He waited until the time and then signalled. Nothing. He signalled again.
“There, that’s it.” There was a light out at sea. Soon they were picked up by the inflatable boat.
“All well sir?” asked Seaman Tamingly. “Did you get what you were after?”
“He did,” said Yana smiling, “he got more than he expected.”
Back on board the NYC, she asked permission to transmit an encrypted message to the CIA.
“Of course,” said Franks.
After Yana sent the message, she looked at him. “Is it possible to link up with the phone system?”
“What? The regular phone system?” She nodded. He shrugged, Franks didn’t know.
“Communications. Can we make a phone call?”
“A phone call, sir?”
“Yes. How many billion did this thing cost, and you mean we can’t make a phone call?”
“Yes, sir I can. I’ve just never been asked before.”
“Let her make one then.” He made the connection.
She punched the Washington number in on a keyboard and it rang.
“Hello, Saul’s Stamps.”
“Hello, it’s Marie. Do you have any 1850 Brazilian Goats eyes?”
“I can get the stamp for you.”
“Thanks, I’ll call in.”
She hung up. “Thank you, Captain.”
Within an hour a message was received after the boat made a regular satellite communications report prior to the dive. Franks found Yana in the Galley.
“I’ve just received a message from your people. CIA I guess, via CINCUSNAVEUR NAVAL FORCES EUROPE. We’re to proceed to Trabzon immediately. You’ll fly via Trabzon and Ankara to Washington for a meeting. We’ll get there early afternoon. We’ll meet the two men who brought you in their boat. I’ll take a chance with a brief surface offshore.” Franks pointed to the serving hatch. “You’re in luck. Mexican tonight, they’re good at it.”
MOSCOW.
A DARK BLUE MERCEDES limousine pulled up to the Kremlin gate. A guard checked papers and looked at the occupants, then waved the limousine inside. She climbed out and entered the Grand Kremlin palace with two plain clothed guards either side of her.
The hall was large and opulent, covered in marble and gold, and at its centre was a large desk with several uniformed men sat around it. One wore a suit.
The Director of the Main Directorate of the Russian General Staff, or GRU, took her place at the table, nodding to the other guests. Olga Andreeva looked at the high Military Council. It was her first meeting. She’d served as Lieutenant General in the GRU, Military Intelligence Corps.
Present was the Director of the SVR RF Pavel Ivanov, he was responsible for the security of external affairs, succeeding the First Chief Directorate of the KGB.
The Minister of Defense along with the Chief of General Staff, Gerasimov. Fleet Admiral Chirkov. Colonel General Komarov of the Russian Aerospace forces. The President walked in and sat. All gathered knew he was a man of few words. When he wanted it done, it had better be done quickly. His one passion was tea. He waited until it was served from the Samovar. Only Darjeeling Tea from West Bengal, India would do. He took a sip and savoured it.
“Speak, Ivanov.”
“Sir, the SVR RF have information that NATO, led by the Americans is planning a move against us.”
“How reliable is this information, Andreeva?”
“Sir we agree. It’s unwelcome, but reliable. They are taking advantage of the unrest in Ukraine. It’s not unexpected,” she said.
“Admiral Chrikov?”
“We agree sir. NATO could be gathering to push into the Black Sea.”
“Could be, Admiral? I don’t deal with ‘could’. I only what is and isn’t.”
“NATO says it’s an impromptu exercise, sir.” Chirkov shrugged. “I don’t deal with intentions, only capabilities.”
The President looked at his wristwatch. “I don’t want to waste time. This is a military matter. Have you discussed this in detail?”
“Yes President, we have,” said Chief of General Staff, Gerasimov.
“What is your solution Gerasimov?”
“Sir, we recommend executing Operation Black Storm.”
The President stood, he knew it was a very big step and would have serious consequences. “Then execute Black Storm immediately.” The President turned and left. He knew they’d carry out his wishes.
WASHINGTON DC.
SHE SAW THE BESPECTACLED man on his way towards her, and put down the phone. He’d arranged to meet her at Dulles and drive her to Langley.
They passed down the long corridor then turned into the side corridor. The man called an elevator. Bruce walked in and swiped his card across a reader. The elevator ascended, then opened onto a long corridor lined with broad-leaved plants where a cleaner worked on a row of plants. They finally came to the office.
“Hi Elle, I’m back.”
The woman gave her a weak smile, took her pass and ran it through a scanner. Yana had to hold her fingers over the fingerprint scanners.
The woman smiled at her. “Ok Miss Borisova, he’s waiting.” Yana walked into his old English drawing room office. Owen stepped forward and shook her hand.
“Hi, Yana. Tea, coffee?”
“Thanks, I’ll have coffee please.” Own nodded. His bespectacled assistant poured the coffees. Owen gestured to a large dark leather couch. Yana sat.
His assistant set the coffees down on a low dark wood table.
“I’ll be outside Sir, if you need me.”
“Thanks Bruce.” He left.
“Oreos?”
Yana smiled. “Yes, I’ll have one.”
“So how did it go? Not too well I think, judging by the bruising. You’re getting a black eye.”
She smiled. “On contry, it did.”
“It’s pronounced ‘on the contrary’,” said Owen, frowning. “You were picked up by the pro Russians. We need to go for option two. We pulled you out to get the information needed, to give option two the best chance of success.”
She smiled and shook her head. “No, Owen. It was a success. The men who captured me; they were pretending to be Russian sympathisers, but they were DRP.”
Owen narrowed his eyes. “They were DRP?”
She nodded. “Yes. We have to be careful, Russian sympathisers are plentiful. It’s easier to hide amongst
them by appearing to be one.”
“But the beatings they gave you? Did they...?”
“Did they rape me? No, they didn’t. But I’d have taken it. It must look real. They were my people.”
Owen frowned, to go through that must have been hard.
“We have spies planted deep in their system. Ukraine and Russia go back to the days of the Soviet Union. We were close. It was one-sided, mostly, but close. I was told what the Russians plan to do, Owen.”
He poured her another coffee. This had the taste of truth about it. “Go on Yana; what do you know of their plans?”
She gathered her wits about her. “Their fear is that NATO will take advantage of the Ukraine situation. They believe that the evidence points to something they dread. The Russians believe that NATO is planning a large naval deployment into the Black Sea, that it will seek to dominate the area by basing itself at the Golkuc naval base on the Sea of Marmara, near Istanbul. The Black Sea ports of Sinop and Trabzon will be expanded to deploy a large naval force. They have plans showing that eventually NATO will base forces and deploy from Odessa in the Ukraine itself.”
“There are no such plans,” said Owen dismissively.
She smirked. “They would say; can you be sure? Is it not possible that plans are being hatched by a group in the Pentagon?”
“There isn’t, I can tell you that.”
Yana stood and poured them both a coffee.“What matters is that they think that there is.” She passed him the coffee. She spoke as though she was older than her years. “Owen. That’s the real world and we must live in it.” She sat. “The Russian President has ordered Operation Black Storm,” she fixed him with a firm gaze. “Preparations will be underway now. There won’t be much time.”
He was intrigued. “What is Operation Black Storm?”
Yana stood and folded her arms. “Was it the Chinese military strategist Sun Tzu who framed the tactic, the best form of defense is attack?”