by J E Higgins
Dropping Tarkov at his hotel, Colonel Carzona drove toward a district filled with small shops and eateries. The streets were filled with tourists representing ethnicities from all around the world. It was easy for him to be lost in a sea of foreigners. Parking the car in a crowded parkway, he walked across the street. The whole time he had been with the Russian, he was carefully watching to see if they had been followed. Confident no one had tailed them, he continued on. Dressed in dark slacks and a blue collared shirt, he looked like most of the populace scoping out a place for souvenirs or a place to eat.
It wasn’t long before he arrived at a small coffee shop playing traditional Arab music. The place housed a dozen small wooden tables and chairs with a half dozen patrons scattered around. A single waitress, a young girl in her early twenties, was traversing her way through the room with a tray in her hands. Aside from a young Japanese or Korean couple that was jabbering away excitedly, no one was paying attention to anything but their drinks and their reading materials. He saw Rita sitting at a table reading a newspaper, sipping something from a small cup.
He slipped into the chair across from her. “How was the meeting?” she asked.
Carzona sighed before responding. “It went well. I think he will be eager to give us satisfactory service and find good recruits.”
“You’re sure he won’t try to cheat us?”
“Mr. Valikov is a businessman who is always looking for new customers. I mentioned our future need to obtain weapons and equipment. He wants to make money,” the Colonel replied.
“What money?” Rita looked confused. “We’re running a small covert operation. Whatever arms we buy will be minute compared to the massive orders he gets from warlords and guerrilla groups.”
The Colonel snorted. “Throughout the 1970s and ‘80s, the Israelis and the Arabs waged a vicious covert war that went all across Western Europe. British intelligence and their Special Forces conducted a similar campaign in pursuit of the Irish Republican Army. Such covert conflicts continue to this day. In every case, the conflict went from a single operation to a long-term shadow war. Wars, in any form, require resources and means of movement. Eventually, everybody in these types of conflicts turns to people like Mr. Valikov to support them with safe houses, documents, and medical assistance when their own governments cannot. This is in addition to everything else we need to operate. When you add it all up, it amounts to a pretty sizeable profit.”
“You think it will come to that?” Rita asked, her voice betraying a hint of concern.
“No,” Carzona’s face and tone remained expressionless. “I doubt our enemies will have reason to finance further activities this far away from home once their business is disrupted, but it will help keep him accommodating our needs.”
“If we stop them, won’t they just try again?” Rita was still having trouble masking her nervousness. Her real name was Esmeralda Morayo. She was an attorney by education who specialized in international trade and worked for a prestigious law firm in Manilla. The firm, which was largely overseen by her father, was a powerful ally to the current Filipino president, former army general Fidel Valdez Ramos. When the conspiracy was initially discovered, it was being orchestrated by a shadowy organization known as the System. She was immediately approached by members of the president’s inner circle to assist in the operation. Being world traveled, she had worked with legal firms and major businesses all across Europe. From her travels, she had a good working knowledge of the legal infrastructure of the recently created European Union and the countries comprising the old Soviet Eastern Block.
She had been the one who found the broker that led them to Tarkov and other private agencies that performed needed services for this operation. Though she had been instrumental in helping to this point, clandestine operations and intrigue were certainly not her forte and her inexperience was readily apparent.
The Colonel shook his head. “This is an incredibly risky undertaking for them as well as expensive and complex. If it is thwarted in a way that compromises the secrecy of their existence, it is likely they will decide not to pursue any further endeavors of this nature. Mr. Valikov doesn’t know that and, for right now, we need to let him keep thinking that we are here for a long campaign. If I’m wrong and this does expand into a long-term conflict, then he will be a good connection to have.”
Rita nodded. Her demeanor became slightly more relaxed after hearing the explanation. She knew little about Colonel Carzona, only that he was a military officer in the Filipino Marine Corps, Hukbong Kawal Pandagat ng Pilipinas, where he served for years in the Special Forces reconnaissance unit. He had spent considerable time operating in the southern islands of Mindanao and the Sulu Archipelago running military intelligence and covert operations against Islamic separatist groups, most notably the Moro National Liberation Front. He had run up against intelligence services and military advisors from countries such as Libya and Malaysia, allowing him the opportunity to hone his skills as an intelligence operative.
Carzona had been brought in at the behest of some of the president’s inner circle to advise them on clandestine and operational security. The lawyers and businessmen who agreed to front the operation to spare the government any long-term diplomatic and legal exposure had no background in these affairs. They didn’t have the slightest notion of how to operate, what to look for in the people they recruited, or how to manage such operations. Colonel Carzona was brought in as an advisor and operational supervisor to alleviate these issues.
Rita took another sip from her cup. “What was your assessment of Tarkov?” She looked up to meet the Colonel’s eye. “He and Valikov are friends. What was your impression at the meeting? Can we trust Tarkov to work for us or will he have dual loyalties?”
“They certainly go back a long way,” Carzona said breathing deeply as he slid back in his chair. “Tarkov isn’t the type who goes to the highest bidder, nor do I think he would be unprofessional and put old friendships ahead of his professional duties to us. That said, I still would be leery about what we divulged to either man, and I will retain key control of the mission until we reach Cyprus.”
“That would probably be best,” Rita replied.
Carzona nodded, “We should expect an update on the recruits in the next three to four days. I told the Russians we will make our own arrangements for holding the meeting. Is the safe house I asked you to acquire ready?”
“I found a small house that meets your specifications. It took a few casual inquiries, but I was able to find a local businessman who was hard up for cash to put his name on the lease. Once you have approved it, he can have the papers signed and the place will be ours with no connection to us at all.”
“I’ll swing by it today and check it out. If it suits our purposes, I’ll move my team in and set up the necessary security at once. Can we trust the man you are using not to ask too many questions or get suspicious?”
“I told him I have clients who were working on a business deal with some foreign investors, and they need someplace where they can hold discreet meetings and retain sensitive paperwork. He seemed content with that explanation. Such business and practices are not uncommon in the corporate world, so it wasn’t at all out of the ordinary. He was more interested in the twenty-five thousand dollars I had sitting on the table, but I really don’t understand the need for a house. Wouldn’t it be more advisable to have this meeting at a hotel or other establishment?”
“For the initial meeting, we’ll need a public place like a bar where we can assess our recruits. When we have reasonable candidates, we’ll need somewhere more private to interview them. Once we have our team, we will still have a few days to wait for necessary preparations before moving to our destination. When that happens, we need the team to move on our schedule and not have to worry about rounding them up when we have to go. We also don’t need our mercenaries talking to anyone. Some of them might be sent by Valikov with instructions to keep him apprised of our activities. We need to c
ontrol this part of the operation, which is why we need a safe house. If we have true professionals, they will appreciate the necessity. We’ll also need to have supplies ─ cots, sleeping bags, and hygiene necessities in addition to a plan for a food supply.”
“I’ll see what I can arrange, but logistics is not my forte,” Rita said. “Though I have to tell you, I won’t be able to obtain firearms for them.”
“That’s alright. They won’t need any, and I don’t want them,” he said in a low tone.
Rita regarded him questioningly. “I don’t understand. You’re having them brought in for security. Shouldn’t they be armed?”
He shook his head. “My men are trained reconnaissance operatives. Their job is to recon the area of the safe house, make sure we don’t have anyone watching us, and safeguard against anyone trying to sneak in. They’ll also help guarantee none of our mercenaries try to sneak out or make contact with anyone. We do not need firearms for that. In a country like Turkey, the risk involved with carrying firearms far outweighs the benefits. In reality, if we are threatened, it will most likely be by the police. In that case, guns would be the worst possible thing to have in our possession. We’ll save the use of guns and other lethal items until we need them for our mission.”
Putting her drink down, she rested her arms on the table putting her hands together. “I don’t feel comfortable with this at all Colonel. This isn’t like movies. I don’t feel adventurous. I only feel concern about what can happen if we get caught. We are placing ourselves in danger.”
The Colonel wasn’t looking at her, but he had shifted his head focusing on the table as if he were deep in thought. “This is a clandestine operation. This is what they are like.”
“I see,” she replied, taking another sip from her cup.
“Is there anything else?” Carzona asked as he looked straight at her.
“No,” she answered. “I’ll inform the committee on what we’ve discussed. If they have any concerns, I’ll bring them up at our next briefing.”
“That will suffice,” the Colonel sighed. “The next meeting will be right here at the same time.” He rose from his chair and started out of the coffee house leaving Rita alone to finish her drink.
9
Sauwa felt Rena shivering in her arms. The little girl was in a state of abject terror. The sound of bushes was crackling under the weight of combat boots as soldiers stepped through the thickets only a short distance away. Sauwa could feel her own heart thumping wildly in her chest as the soldiers drew closer. She hid her sister’s face, pressing it tightly into her shirt, as she tried to protect the little girl from the ghastly sight directly in front of them.
Not more than a few feet away was the remains of a half-dozen or so corpses. Some white soldiers, the rest black civilians, all sprawled out with their clothes ripped to shreds and their bodies mutilated with stomachs sliced and their intestine flung about on the ground in a disgusting display. She didn’t know what had happened, only that the deaths had occurred a short time before she and her group found them.
One of the bodies, a white soldier, who looked to be no more than nineteen years old, was staring right at her. His face was contorted with the terrible fear he must have felt just before his death. His eyes were begging for help she couldn’t give, and he could no longer receive. She tried to take her eyes off of him, but the desperate stare seemed to bore into her. She found she was constantly looking up to meet his gaze and wanted badly to scream. But the sound of the guerrilla soldiers reminded her to keep silent.
Sauwa awoke suddenly and found she was no longer in the jungle but in her bed in her room in Valikov’s home. As usual with these nightmares, she woke with her T-shirt soaked with sweat and her heart racing. As her nerves calmed and she started to relax, she glanced around the dark room. The only illumination came from the one window she kept uncovered so she could look out at the grounds below in case she heard anything strange.
The small amount of light formed ghostly images across her walls reminding her of the faces she had seen in her nightmare. No longer able to sleep she slipped out of her bed. She felt cold as the air touched her damp shirt. Peeling it off, she reached for a fresh one that was sitting on a nearby chair. The soft warm feeling of dry clothes improved her mood a little.
Stepping toward the small window she peered out at the grounds. The garden was illuminated garden lights stuck into the ground. They lit the pathway that led around the vegetation. Supposedly, it was a means of enhancing the mysterious beauty of the garden at night. In reality, it illuminated all the pockets intruders would need to come through if they were attempting to breach the house from that direction.
She pressed close to the wall as she peered out at the garden. She watched for a few minutes looking for any strange movements or signs of something out of the ordinary. Satisfied nothing was out there she went to the larger window. Drawing back the curtain, she opened the window to let in a gentle breeze. The fresh air was nearly intoxicating as she felt it caress her body. She took several slow, deep breaths allowing the air to fill her lungs feeling the calming effect as she exhaled. This was a routine she had perfected to quell her demons since coming to Turkey. Ever since she had left the battlefields of Bosnia, her nightmares had started to come back as the old ghosts of her past returned to haunt her.
With a calmer demeanor, she again gazed out at the view. In the distance, the lines of orange-red light began to crack the skyline signaling dawn was approaching. It was a hauntingly majestic sight and for a short time, she became lost in its splendor. She soaked it up wondering when she would be able to enjoy such a tranquil moment given what she was about to do.
The Saktar bar was a few blocks from the coast and had a relaxed atmosphere. It was nothing too fancy nor was it a dive. It provided the perfect environment for average people looking to have a good time. It catered to an assorted clientele which made it easy for one to go unnoticed. Colonel Carzona had selected it after touring multiple locations and determining it was the most suitable for his requirements.
Entering the bar at 1900hours, Sergei Tarkov and Colonel Carzona made their way to a corner table that gave them a full view of the place and the ability to observe everyone who entered. Accompanying them was a young Turkish fellow in his early twenties. He was a law clerk who worked for a firm Rita knew. He spoke fluent English and had been hired to act as an interpreter if needed. It was a Wednesday night so the crowd should be minimal. It had a large enough gathering to prevent them from sticking out but would be easy to keep an eye on the potential recruits.
Carzona had instructed Valikov to have the recruits come to the bar between 2000 to 2300 hours. It was a random enough timeframe that they all wouldn’t come pouring in at once. Valikov had lined up twelve potential recruits and gave them four candidates to review the first night. The same routine would be used for the next two days. Seeing only four candidates at a time made it easier to evaluate them. If Valikov remained true to his word, the recruits should all be experienced professionals with in-depth training that should be suitable recruits for their team.
Carzona had given Valikov four distinct objects with instructions to give one to each of the recruits for identification. In his experience, the Colonel found that everyday people could be remarkably observant at the most inconvenient times when there was too much uniformity in a routine.
Someone approaching them had been given a code phrase to use and expected a carefully scripted response in reply. This would happen when it was time to make contact. The three men sat down at their table. The interpreter wasn’t sure quite what was going on. He was only told to keep his mouth shut and leave the other two alone unless his services were required. By the hard, rough look of the two men, the young law clerk felt it wise not be involved any more than necessary.
Sauwa walked into the Saktar bar at 2000 hours dressed in a pair of black cargo pants, a grey T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. She didn’t look too much different than many of
the young professional women out that night. Even the black tactical combat boots she wore weren’t too far out of the norm. The small, black knapsack she carried over her shoulder was also common among the more modern set. Her hair was tied up loosely behind her head with her bangs hanging down, adding to her casual appearance.
By the time she got there, the bar had gained a modest-sized crowd that occupied some of the seats and the dance floor. However, it was still relatively easy to walk about and see everyone clearly. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted three men sitting at a table in the far corner. She recognized the two men Valikov had met with a few days earlier. They were drinking beer and pretending to look around the room. She assumed they were watching for their recruits.
Taking a seat that put her against the wall close to an exit, she placed her knapsack next to her. Once settled, she reached into her jacket pocket and produced a small crème colored envelope that she placed on the table. When Valikov gave it to her, he told her to place the envelope where it could be seen. A petite waitress dressed in a pair of black slacks and a white collared shirt came over to her with a smile on her face. She spoke in Turkish, but Sauwa understood enough to know the woman was asking if she wanted to order anything. Giving her the word for juice, Sauwa dismissed her as she sat back watching the room. She kept her head motionless while shifting her eyes in the direction of the three men. The lights were low enough that it was doubtful they would notice her peering in their direction.