by Laura Acton
“Anytime, Sinner.” Brody flashed his own smile.
Barracuda Club – 2205 Hours
Waiting until Mason arrived and opened the car door, Dan languidly disembarked, prepared to do his job. His bored expression and his body language now mimicked what he studied from the video of Maks.
As Dan ignored her, Anastasia assumed a pouting face, beginning to set the stage. She tried to cling to Maks, but Dan sloughed her off. She was amazed at Dan’s transformation. He was wholly in character. Whatever Brody did, worked like a charm.
Not bothering to wait in the line formed to get into the club Dan approached the doormen. He eyed the man with an air of privilege and superiority. Using Maks’ inflections and tone, Dan said in Russian, “I assume you know who I am.”
Ustin, the secondary doorman stared with a gaped mouth and turned to his boss, unsure if the famous man was actually Maks.
Ikovle immediately smiled. Speaking Russian, he greeted the well-known man “Welcome, Maksim Gennadiyevich. Go right in.”
As the door opened Dan, Anastasia, Mason, and Ripsaw moved forward and entered without a backward glance.
When the door closed, Ustin turned an astonished eye on Ikovle. “Wow, Maks talked to me. Pity I do not have his money and his gorgeous blonde woman. Some men have all the luck. All the beautiful women flock to him.”
Chuckling, Ikovle said, “I was more impressed with his bodyguard. He is so huge it makes us look like dwarfs. And that scar on his face. Wonder how he got that.”
The two continued to discuss the Maks, the blonde woman with him and the hulking bodyguard as they turned away one person after another who didn’t fit their standards of entry to the popular nightclub.
Once Dan and the others entered, Brody circled the block, rechecking all the exits then took up a position near the front to provide coverage for any potential issues. Part of him wanted to be inside with Dan, but he trusted Ripsaw and Mason to keep him safe. He turned on the music, lowering the volume, and attempted to relax as his hands caressed the steering wheel.
In another life, he might have chosen to be a racecar driver. He enjoyed the exhilaration of driving fast. His mind drifted as he thought about how his search for the truck he and Danny rented years ago to go four-wheeling hit a dead end. Next time he went home on leave, he would make more inquiries. He grinned recalling the enjoyable day they spent with Dan’s cousin. They needed more innocent fun like that in their lives.
Smooth Operators
20
May 27
Inside the Barracuda Club – 2210 Hours
Mike monitored from his table as Dan and the others entered, impressed by the change in the general’s son. He wondered how the born and bred military man shed his soldier bearing and projected one of a privileged playboy. A skill General Broderick did not possess … too rigid to let loose. If Mike didn’t know better, he would think Dan grew up living the life he portrayed.
He grinned as William’s son turned the heads of all the women as the group made their way through the throng of admirers. Mike noted Anastasia played up her pouting at being ignored by Maks. This just might work. Mike waited, needing Dan to be seen and draw attention to himself before approaching.
Dan scanned the bar, the dance floor, and surrounding tables to find what Maks would deem, according to Mike, a suitable woman. His eyes landed on a young-looking woman seated at a pub table with a few empty chairs. She didn’t appear to be much older than eighteen. Leisurely he made his way towards her, continuing to study her face. Part of him wanted to ask Mason if he thought she was young enough … he failed miserably when judging a woman’s age.
He learned the hard way with the messy incident with Major Blevin’s daughter during the time he and Brody were MPs stationed at Petawawa as members of the Quick Reaction Force. Mercy Blevin claimed to be twenty, possessed identification stating such, but she turned out to be only seventeen years old and the ID fake. After all the latrine duty he was assigned as punishment for taking her to a bar, Dan learned to stay away from the brass’ daughters and that he sucked at determining ages.
So, this woman might be older or younger than she appeared. But appearing so young, she would set the stage for his supposed proclivities. With Anastasia, Mason, and Ripsaw in tow, Dan sauntered over.
“Hello beautiful. Can I sit with you?” Dan asked speaking Russian and turning the wattage of his smile up a notch as he moved in close enough to the woman to kiss her if he desired. He was so close her he saw her brown eyes dilate as she recognized who he was pretending to be and heard her nervous and excited intake of air. Hook set, now time to reel her in.
Giddy with being singled out by Maks, she said, “Please. I’m Svetla.”
Dan slid onto the empty stool next to the teenager, ordering vodka for himself and Anastasia and a refill of whatever the raven-haired woman wanted to drink, then began flirting with Svetla.
Mason followed the waitress, and after she placed the order with the bartender, he beckoned the man over, and as he waited he reviewed the Russian statement Blondie drilled into his so-called bodyguards. It would be a phrase he needed to use frequently to keep his brother safe. As the barman approached, Mason said, “You need to replace the vodka with water, and I will deliver it to Maks.”
After watching the baffled bartender to ensure he added nothing to the waters, Mason returned to Blondie. The kid impressed him. Sure, he recognized Blondie was smooth with the ladies but not quite like this. Mason set the drinks down and assumed his guard position. His and Ripsaw’s eyes continued scanning the crowd searching for any of Savelievich’s scouts.
Dan wrapped Svetla around his finger, wowing her. When she asked him to dance, Dan had no way out. Though this was one part of Maks he was unable to pull off convincingly. He didn’t dance. For all his stealth and grace, he possessed two left feet when it came to dancing.
The only strategy open to him would be to hold her close and sway to slow music. He needed to avoid fast songs because he would without a doubt blow his cover since Maks was known as a skilled dancer. Lucky for him, a sedate ballad played now, so he stood and took her hand.
Gripping Ripsaw’s hand, Anastasia pulled him with her to the dancing area as she spoke Russian, knowing he wouldn’t understand but those around would and things she said didn’t require a response from him. She complained how Maks ignored her, focusing on someone younger. She did this for two reasons. One, it set Dan’s cover. Two, she promised all the guys she would ensure one of them was within arms distance of Dan at all times to protect him.
Mason stayed at the table, continuing to scan the room and to watch the drinks. The last thing they needed was for Blondie to be drugged. With the way he hallucinated with morphine, things might go horribly wrong in a heartbeat if Blondie reacted badly to something slipped into his beverage.
Time to make his move, Mike stood and smiled as he grasped the hand of the lady he had been conversing with, twirling her out to the dance floor as she smiled at him, captivated by the handsome foreigner.
As he danced, Mike gradually moved them closer to Dan. Spotting a scout named Boris, he discretely signaled to Anastasia, Dan, and Ripsaw. Dancing in rhythm to the music, they all closed in on the mark so they would be within eavesdropping range for the man. Mike twirled his partner around, so he came face-to-face with Dan. He halted and affected an astonished expression before he blurted out in Russian, “Maksim! My God, it is you! I haven’t seen you in … what … fifteen years.”
Dan’s expression started as one of bored curiosity but brightened as he called back loudly using the same language. “Magic Mike! It has been years. Thought you fell off the face of the earth. What are you doing here?”
“Enjoying the nightlife as usual.” Mike wanted to cringe at the moniker Magic Mike. He instructed Dan to use the term when addressing him in Russian but to leave it off when he spoke a language the others understood. He didn’t expound on why and thank goodness Dan did not ask him to give details.
The two men exchanged conversation speaking Russian and ambled off the dance floor together with the women. Both detected Boris’ heightened attention as the agent not so stealthily followed them. Mike and Dan began to lay the groundwork. Dan asked Mike if he knew where he might find the type of entertainment which couldn’t be found in the clubs, a younger set.
Shrugging, Mike explained he had not been to Makhachkala for years, but he recalled there might be a private club which catered to what Maks wanted. He sighed and said the Cherry Club required an invitation and he doubted Panin Savelievich would remember him after all these years.
Anastasia and Ripsaw returned to the table to establish she was with Maks. After some time, Anastasia approached Boris when she observed he hung on every word. She smiled and ran her hand down his arm then asked him to dance. As expected, Boris started to inquire about Maks.
She pouted and said he was tired of her and it was about time she searched for a new playmate. She confided Maks was into younger women and she felt old and left out. Boris fell for her story, and Anastasia also plied him for information without the man realizing it.
An hour later, Dan managed to avoid more dancing, farmed off Svetla to a more attentive man so he and his friend Mike could reminisce about old times, then stood to leave with Mike. As part of an orchestrated afterthought, Dan retrieved Anastasia from Boris and told her they were going to another club. She moped a bit, giving Boris a peck on the cheek before she followed.
As they left Dan whispered to Anastasia, “Smooth. You had his tongue hanging out wanting you.”
She smiled sweetly and hung on to Dan’s arm as she murmured, “Not so bad yourself. I thought Svetla would faint dead away when you approached her and leaned in close. You’re a smooth operator.”
Dan only grinned as he thought, I have Brody to thank for getting me in the right head space. He blew out a long breath as Mason closed the door to the Corvette. He understood what he was doing had a deadly serious purpose, but Dan found he had some fun acting without abandon and thoroughly shaking the exterior soldier mode.
The group hit three more clubs and repeated nearly everything except the reunion of Maks and Mike. In the succeeding venues, they were old buddies out for a night of club hopping. Each time they moved between locations Dan enjoyed a short decompression with Brody. His brother told awful jokes or played a couple of songs which kept him in Sinner mode.
May 28
Anzhi-Qala Resort – Luxury Suite – Main Room – 0400 Hours
Six extremely exhausted people entered the suite at four in the morning. They all crashed into chairs to debrief. Blaze, Winds, Patch, and Dom had coffee and food waiting for them. The four had not been idle tonight either.
Blaze said, “Hope things went well for you. Our surveillance of Savelievich’s Cherry Club netted visuals of three of the scouts. Based on Dom’s description we also spotted the Yurievich brothers. They appeared to be staking out the bordello. We did not approach.”
Winds added, “One of them was injured. He favored his left arm.”
Dan raked his fingers through his long hair. He so wanted to cut it off. When they were all done with this sickening mission, he would do just that. It would help him shed the disgusting persona of Maks. He kicked off the uncomfortable but expensive dress shoes and flexed his feet as he listened to the report from Blaze and Winds.
Patch took one glimpse at Blondie, discerning he hurt. He moved towards him with the oatmeal he heated up in the microwave. “Instant is the best I could do. Sorry no raisins but managed to wrangle up some walnuts.”
“Thanks.” Taking the small bowl, Dan supposed his favorite comfort food would settle without difficulty. His stomach agreed as it rumbled.
The rest of the guys and Anastasia moved to the tray of simple breakfast pastries as Patch returned with a glass of limeade for Blondie and two pain pills. “No arguments. You need to stay on top of it. You’ve been on your feet most of the night.”
Dan peered at the glass, shaking his head. Lime made him want to puke as he recalled the previous scents, wondering why they affected him.
“Danny, take the damn pills,” Brody groused as he sat next to him.
“I will, could’ve used them a few hours ago, but with coffee or water. Don’t want any limeade.” He deflected, “Doesn’t go well with oatmeal.”
Blaze brought him an iced coffee. “Blondie, I swear. You drive me batty sometimes. Why the hell didn’t you say something earlier?”
“Forgot to take any with me.” He washed down the medication with a long drink before he dug into his oatmeal to avoid saying more.
Watching Dan chow down, Brody shook his head. He turned his attention to Patch. “Tomorrow I’ll carry pills with me.”
Patch nodded as he eyed Blondie. “We should debrief after Blondie rests.”
“I’m alright,” Dan protested between bites of oatmeal.
Blaze studied Blondie. “That may be true but Patch is in charge of unit health, and if he says to debrief later then we do it later. Finish up and find your beds.” He glanced at his men, and everyone except Blondie nodded.
As Dan finished the last of his hot cereal, Patch asked, “Need anything to help you sleep?”
Anastasia stood and took Dan’s hand. “I don’t think that will be necessary tonight. Come on. Time to hit the hay.”
Fatigued, Dan did not resist. He followed Anastasia willingly into the bedroom wishing to be off his aching feet again.
After the door closed, Brody said, “I’ll stay here in case Dan needs me. Pretending to be the depraved bastard had to be exhausting for him. Dom, if you want, you can take my bed.”
“Thanks. I think I will.” Dom rose, stretching his back. He could use a night’s sleep … well, a morning’s sleep on a decent bed. The flea-bitten hotel he selected kept him off the grid, but the thin piece of cardboard they considered a mattress, left him achy.
“We’re in fifteen-o-one,” Patch said as he grabbed another apple pastry from the cart and inclined his head toward the door, indicating for Dom to follow him.
The rest of them finished their food and straggled out seeking their beds and much-needed sleep, leaving only Brody and Blaze in the main suite.
Blaze sipped his coffee, staring at the bedroom door. He worried this mission would be too much for Blondie. “A man’s soul can take only so much.”
“True.”
Realizing he spoke out loud when Brody responded, Blaze turned his eyes to him. “I worry about the kid. He’s been through more than any man should ever endure. I wish I could do more to help.”
All too well, Brody understood the sentiment. “He’s still questioning his abilities. We need to ensure this operation is a success, or it will crush him.”
Blaze nodded as they lapsed into silence. After thirty minutes he stood and headed for the door. He halted and said, “If Blondie needs me, I’m down only the hall.”
Brody settled in on the couch, closing his eyes he hoped Blondie slept well.
Colonel Sutton’s Office – Outer Office – 0550 Hours
Private Howard Bransworth enjoyed working in the silence of the morning before the colonel’s office began popping with others. This post was a dream come true for him. He liked Colonel Sutton from the moment he met him last September. The man was genuine, honorable, and cared about the men under his command. He discerned the same about General Broderick.
Somewhat surprising to him, Sutton entrusted him with significant responsibilities almost from the day he reported to his duty station. However, that fact remained between him, the colonel, and the general. To the rest of the staff, he was nothing more than a coffee runner learning the ropes. A necessary ruse, given the critical nature of the intel he handled.
Lately, he worked on critical research of sector Y6, pulling together data he mined using his computer skills. Intel on Y6 remained sparse, despite the need, as increased chatter flagged the area as a new hotbed of terrorist activity. Though, he d
iscovered several nuggets of info which should prove useful.
He glanced up when the door opened, expecting Sutton, but found Major Plouffe, a man he detested. He switched off the monitor to avoid disclosing to wandering eyes what he prepared for Sutton. This interruption meant he might be late delivering his report to Sutton, which bugged him.
Plouffe approached Private Bransworth, Sutton’s glorified coffee boy. He needed a mole in the colonel’s office like he had Merrill in the general’s office. This fobbit would be the best option. So far, he had been able to structure things to get around the problems, but it would be much easier if he had someone closer to the mission details. Particularly with all the scrutiny coming his way after the rescue of his toy soldier.
He approached the desk and assumed his practiced smile. “Private, just the man who can assist me. As you must be aware, I’m in charge of troop deployments. I need you to provide me the latest mission jacket for Lieutenant Blain’s unit.”
Bransworth read people well and detected something smarmy and off with the major when first meeting the man. Plouffe’s fake smile coupled with the derision, contempt, and a sense of superiority in his eyes set Bransworth’s teeth on edge. Not qualities he expected in Special Forces officers. “Major, you are mistaken. In spite of appearances, I’m mostly relegated to acquiring coffee as I’m still learning the ropes. I have nothing to do with unit reports yet.”
Plouffe continued grinning as he eyed the young man, liking what he saw and wanting a taste. “Such a menial task for someone of your training.”
“Colonel Sutton is a busy man with an important job. I don’t view my position as menial, only a better use of resources, sir.” Bransworth smoothly said, not being drawn in by Plouffe’s insincere words.
“Surely, you must aspire to be more than being an errand boy.” Plouffe decided to use flattery to flesh out the private and possibly feel his flesh later too. “A man of your capabilities didn’t join the Army to fetch coffee.”