by J E Higgins
Still, she could understand his disdain for her. He was a soldier, a commando, who carried out missions in wars against known hostiles. Even as a mercenary, he was the kind of man who liked to think he was still fighting with rules that left some civility on the battlefield. For him, she was a soldier of a different type of war ─ a dirty war where there were no rules, no limits to barbaric behavior, or any definition of moral decency.
Sauwa continued lifting the weights. As if they were having some sort of standoff, De’vor glared coldly at her for several minutes. Finally, he turned and strode off, leaving her to finish her workout in peace. She hoped that this episode would be the last, though deep down, something told her it was not over.
20
Yannis Prokopis lived in a nice, expensive townhouse off of Dasoubi beach. It was a white two-story structure that connected to a long row of similar houses. Beyond it was a neatly manicured grass lawn that covered a distance of about eighty feet before feeding into a park full of leafy trees that led to a thin strip of sandy beach and a glistening blue ocean. On the other side was a small brick walkway that led to another row of apartment buildings that towered over the townhouses. It was a clean, upscale location that catered to the professional class ─ lawyers, doctors, and general business types.
Following Sauwa’s advice, the team started their surveillance slowly by first passing by a couple of times to get a feel for the location. Sauwa, dressed in a pair of silk running shorts and a T-shirt, had taken to going for morning jogs around the housing complex. It was a common route for many running enthusiasts, so it was an easy way to recce the area unnoticed.
The first day she ran along the beach then across the trail that cut through the park and circled around the walkway that wound through the housing complex. She took the time to observe the layout of the area, noting what type of people frequented it. In her experience, most covert missions were thwarted not by the diligence of an elite security service as by some annoying busybody who had nothing better to do than pry into the business of everyone in their neighborhood. It was surprising how often covert operations had been blown by someone on a neighborhood watch spotting a mysterious car or van parked too long and calling the police at an inopportune time.
As she ran through the complex, she discovered the local populace were mostly younger men and women. They were generally professionals with money who focused on having a good time. They were the type that if they weren’t at work or out clubbing, they were entertaining. In either case, they seemed to have an interest in what was happening outside their own world. From what she had seen of Prokopis, it was exactly his type of world.
The next day she found time to stop and stretch just outside of Prokopis’s house. She came up to the small stairway leading to the door and began stretching out her leg. As she did, she took the time to look over the door. She could see that it was a hard metal barrier with a steel jamb welded tightly into a concrete housing structure. The door itself was secured with a key lock that she figured could be breached easily enough with some time and the right tools. However, they were in such a public place, getting in through the front door would be impossible.
She took time to observe the frame of the house, checking for signs of hidden cameras lining the entry points and wires leading into the house that suggested a house alarm or the possibility of cameras inside the house. Anticipating that a man in Prokopis’s line of work would have some sort of security system, she had taken the precaution of wearing a baseball cap, tucking her hair up inside it, and donning a pair of dark sunglasses that covered the entire upper portion of her face. She had also worn an oversized, loose fitting long sleeved shirt that draped over her body covering her frame and hiding any other identifying features. Since women were always concerned about getting sun damage to their skin, such apparel wasn’t out of place for the location.
Examining the house, she caught sight of two bird statues placed just above the door. They were positioned to observe the entire entryway and all those who approached it. She had seen similar statues and recognized them ─ they were custom made hidden cameras. She assumed there were similar ones over the back door. The wiring probably fed directly behind the statues into the house so they weren’t visible and would not be easily accessible to cut. Not wanting to press her luck, she opted not to verify her theory by going around the back and seeing for herself. A girl simply stretching and cooling off after a run was easily dismissed. The same girl being caught on camera hanging around the back of the same house would definitely arouse suspicion. She figured Prokopis was the type to check his video feeds daily. Luckily, she knew such cameras had little memory and her image, if it was not deliberately recorded, would probably be lost within a day or two. Still, this would be the last time she would risk being so close to his house. Future runs would be conducted on the other side of the road to ensure she wasn’t captured on any more footage.
The team found a spot along one of the trails that gave them a perfect observation spot. Trees and shrubs concealed them from anyone looking from the house, while the location itself made it easy to look like tourists relaxing in the shade. To Sauwa’s dismay, Tarkov decided to have the observation post manned by her and Gorzo. Because they were the closest in age, the team leader insisted they should be paired to perform the surveillance mission ─ a young couple enjoying the day. And, if anyone should see them staring at the houses, they would just assume the young lovers were envisioning their life together.
The beach was nearly deserted at this time of the morning. A quick swipe past the canteen showed only a small smattering of surf bums enjoying the brief privacy. Some guys, dressed in clothes that indicated they had just come straight from a wild party, appeared to be there to clear their heads after a long night of drugs and alcohol consumption. Neither group paid the slightest attention to the young couple walking past them into the park.
The two settled themselves into place, nestling up to some trees and eating out of bags of food they had picked up from an eatery a short distance away. Anyone walking by would assume they were taking the time to enjoy a nice breakfast. Sauwa laid out her bag, while Gorzo reached for one of the pita breakfast sandwiches. He cast a disapproving eye over her as she set out her equipment. He had lobbied hard to have her dress in a bikini top and cutoff shorts ─ attire he was sure would be more inconspicuous for their beach setting. He had not entirely won the argument, with her being allowed to enjoy a loose fitting grey T-shirt. However, despite her objections, Tarkov did agree that such a young couple should fit the part on an exotic beach, and she found herself having to strut around in a tight fitting pair of high riding cutoff jeans. “You know,” he said, “a body like yours should be shown to the world. Every woman out there is wearing swimsuits. You look out of place.”
“And yet, I don’t feel out of place.” She replied as she scanned the area one last time to see who was around and if they were paying any attention to them. The trail and surrounding area were empty of any human traffic leaving them entirely alone. She took the opportunity to break out her binoculars and notebook. Leaving Gorzo to enjoy his breakfast and stand as a lookout, she strolled into the trees. Hunkering behind a bush, she looked through her optics to see if she could get a view of the back of Prokopis’ house. It was early morning, and the sun was not in the right position ─ the back still remained immersed in shadows. It was impossible to see anything including any security devices. She was able to see blueish-white flashing through the windows downstairs ─ a television was playing. It was a sign their target was home.
Reaching into her canvass bag, she pulled out a small disposable cell phone. Dialing a number, she let the phone ring a few times before she heard Tarkov answer in his gruff accent. “Yes?” He asked curtly. “We’re here, and our friend appears to be home,” she said. She dispensed with the usual protocol of speaking cryptically or in code because they were using disposable cell phones, not landlines or personal phones.
“Keep
watching. Call us if it looks like he’s getting ready to leave,” Tarkov instructed and hung up.
While she and Gorzo were watching the house, Tarkov and De’vor had found a place to hang out that gave them a perfect line of sight of the garbage dumpsters that serviced the row houses. In addition to the physical observation, Sauwa also suggested that a person’s garbage had often proven valuable as a means of intelligence collection ─ people are inclined to be oblivious to what they discard into the trash. With that suggestion, the Russian felt it wise to see what information they could snag.
With nothing happening, she retreated back to where her companion was waiting patiently. “Any luck?” He inquired as he went to hand her a sandwich rolled in some tin foil.
“No,” she replied shaking her head as she accepted the sandwich. Sauwa settled close to Gorzo to give the appearance they were a couple of young lovers. Cyprus was such a romantic tourist spot, it ensured that they were left alone. Gorzo took full advantage of the situation wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer and let his fingers run across the soft skin of her belly. An action she found annoying.
“I know you have a thing for older men,” he quipped. “But, I should warn you, Russians make terrible lovers, and Sacchini is past his prime to satisfy a woman such as yourself.” His fingers started to dip slightly into her belt line as they began to explore further. She took a quick assessment of her surroundings to ensure no one was watching before she produced a double bladed tactical knife and forcefully pressed the sharp edge toward Gorzo’s inner thigh.
“If you want to remain a man, I suggest those fingers stay out of my pants,” she said in a low, harsh voice.
Gorzo began to lunge in her direction but was stopped cold by the sharp metal being pressed more firmly into his leg. His hand slithered off of her belly and came up onto her shirt. His lips cracked into a sinister smile. “I like the ones that play hard to get. It gives a man the thrill of the hunt and offers the best reward in the bedroom once they have been conquered.” He backed off leaning against the tree and returned his attention to his sandwich.
Having made her point, for the time being, Sauwa removed the knife before anyone came along. However, she feared she had won this battle but lengthened the war. Far from being put off, the young Italian now seemed to see her as even more of a challenge he was determined to win.
They had been in position for an hour when 0930 rolled around. Prokopis exited his sliding glass door at the back of his house. He walked to the edge of the balcony with a small glass of bourbon as he looked out over the ocean. He was dressed in a cream-colored suit with a buttoned shirt he wore without a tie and the top buttons were undone. He had a day or two of facial growth, and his hair was combed and slicked back nicely from his receding hairline. He sipped the bourbon slowly savoring every drop as he soaked up the view. He had been on his balcony no more than fifteen or twenty minutes when he returned inside and shut the door.
The sun had risen enough that Sauwa was able to get a good look at the framework of the house. Sliding under a leafy bush that shielded her from the view of the townhouse, Sauwa peered through her binoculars. As she had expected, the back door of the house was guarded by the same statues she had encountered in the front. They sat at the top corners of the door capturing images of all who stepped onto the porch.
With the downstairs clearly not an option for breaching the house, Sauwa continued to investigate for other entry points. She turned her gaze to the second floor and scanned the sliding door behind Prokopis. She took her time studying the door frame looking for any trace of a camera or alarm system. This task was rendered harder by Gorzo’s antics. To provide cover from anyone passing by, he had rolled up on top of her. He had also seized the opportunity to let his hands again wander over her body. She found it difficult to concentrate on the target location while feeling a hand slowly pet and occasionally grab her bottom cheek. Due to the fact that people were now frequenting the trail behind them, Gorzo didn’t receive the violent response he deserved.
Sauwa brought down her binoculars satisfied that the security features did not extend to the second floor. Prokopis apparently felt any threat to him would only come through the ground level. The couple looked too obvious and risked being noticed if any of the pedestrians on the trail decided to stop and investigate them. Taking additional advantage of the moment, Gorzo took to running his fingers across the belt line of her jeans and eventually slid them inside once more.
“What!” he exclaimed whispering into her ear. “I was hoping to enjoy the feel of satin or silk panties.” He feigned disappointment as he continued to allow his fingers to explore the world under her clothes. Bringing his face close to hers, the scruff of his facial hair scratched annoyingly against her face.
She said nothing as her partner continued to molest her. To respond would have created a scene. She reached for her phone and made another call to Tarkov. By now Gorzo was kissing the back of her neck and whispering something to her in Italian. Dialing a number, she was promptly speaking to her team leader. Between the Italian’s probing fingers and his aggressive actions on her neck, she struggled to maintain her bearings as she answered to the gruff Russian baritone.
“It looks like he’s leaving.”
“Does it look like you can get inside?” Tarkov asked.
“Not now.”
“Hold your positions for another thirty, then break,” Tarkov commanded.
“Alright.”
She fought to tuck the phone into her pack. Thankfully, Gorzo had backed off enough to allow her that much freedom. She returned to watch the housing complex. Since she couldn’t see the front to tell if their target had definitely left or not, she changed her scope of interest to the neighboring houses as she tried to get a feel for the neighbors. From her recces running through the neighborhood, she didn’t see much sign that the communities were a tight-knit group. They did not appear to be neighbors who made a point of knowing everybody and everything that went on around them.
The pedestrian traffic on the trails had begun to slow to a trickle. There were only one or two people who quickly walked past paying not the slightest attention to the young couple ‘romancing’ in the trees. This left her free to pull out her binoculars to get a closer look at the neighboring houses. It also freed her up to respond to Gorzo’s groping with a quick elbow plowing into his solar plexus. Caught off guard with a powerful jolt to his stomach, the Italian doubled over groaning in agony.
She remained on her side watching him as she waited to see what his response would be. He glared angrily back at her as he held his stomach and started to catch his breath. Was he going to attack or was he going to back down? She wasn’t going to turn her back on him until she was sure which one. Gradually his bitter stare morphed into a sinister smile. He leveled an evil look at her with satisfaction.
Not knowing what to make of his behavior, she returned his look with a cold, deadly stare of her own. With a look of amusement, he eventually raised his hands gesturing his surrender. Satisfied he was no longer a threat at the moment, she rolled back onto her stomach and began to peer through her binoculars. She could feel Gorzo slowly crawl back into place over her body, this time his hands were placed more acceptably around her waist, and he was no longer kissing the back of her neck.
She continued to study the framework around the doors on the second floor and found to her delight that nothing in the form of a security system seemed to exist. What was more interesting was that one of the townhouses had the bottom door partially open, a sign that security was not a concern amongst the general community.
As instructed, the two held their position for another half hour. When nothing happened, they casually exited the trees. A few of the men walking by gave Gorzo triumphant smiles for the supposed romantic session he had instigated, while some of the older couples walked past looking at the young couple with reminiscences of their own youthful antics. Dusting herself off, Sauwa ambled down the t
rail with Gorzo at her side. To keep up appearances, she allowed him to keep his arm wrapped around her and tucked her body close to his. She played her part cracking a smile and leaning into his frame as they continued toward the beach.
At the warehouse, the team gathered in the meeting area. Everyone was present including the German they had met the first day they arrived in the country. He was accompanied by a young Greek gentleman who was dressed in a light grey suit and blue tie almost identical to his older companion. The German conversed only with Carzona and avoided speaking to any of the mercenaries. Tarkov tore open a couple of plastic bags and dropped the contents onto the floor. “When Prokopis left today, he threw these bags into the trash.”
Sauwa dropped to the ground and began sifting through the debris in front of her. The rest of the team lowered themselves to the ground following suit. “Our boy is certainly the drinker,” De’vor remarked as he picked through the empty bottles. There were several scraps with handwritten scribbles jotted on them, but they were all in Greek. “We need to know what these notes say,” Sauwa exclaimed as she lifted a few of the scrapes and attempted to examine them.
“That is why we have him,” Tarkov pointed to the young man in the grey suit. “Our employer’s contact recruited him to translate any information we found.”
“How are you?” The young man raised his hand to identify himself.
“We will refer to him as Nico,” the Russian went on. “He speaks fluent English and knows not to say anything about what he sees here.”