Cyprus Rage

by J E Higgins

  “We will be operating here in Cyprus, and it will not be with the support or the blessing of the local authorities. This means if we get into a gunfight, expect the police to come after us. If you get caught, no one will come for you, and you might be looking at prison time. For this reason, each of you can expect to be paid a hundred thousand dollars American upon completion of this mission. With five thousand a week as base pay for every week you are providing your services.” He watched the room, studying the faces of the Greeks carefully. If there were any of them that showed the slightest apprehension, he would have shown them the door handing them plane fare to get them back to Athens. He wasn’t about to keep anyone who wasn’t completely prepared for what might come.

  None of the men moved or showed any hesitation ─their faces were stone. They were all professionals who understood what they were getting into. It was a hazard of the life they had chosen, and everyone had decided that the reward was worth the risk. Confident that everyone was all in for the mission, Rhys continued. “In a few weeks, we will be making the maiden run for what will be an operation expected to span several weeks. A ship coming in from somewhere in the Baltic will pass on large quantities of equipment to a ship that will be heading to the prime destination. For now, we are charged with providing additional security for the transition location. If the shipments get attacked, our mission is to respond and neutralize the aggression to ensure the ships depart unmolested. Be aware our mission can change as the intelligence being provided changes. Expect our base of operation will be divulged as needed for security reasons. Are there any questions?”

  “As you defined this mission, we will inevitably need weapons. What is the plan for obtaining arms?” asked one of the young men.

  “Weapons will be utilized,” Rhys agreed. “However, I do not wish to risk storing them here until absolutely necessary. They will be distributed prior to the mission. If the situation forces requiring them more quickly, arms can be made available within a day.”

  “What kind of armaments will we be using?” another Greek spoke up.

  “We have access to Soviet equipment,” Rhys replied. “I understand you all should be proficient with basic Soviet arms. In the short term, we will be working with AKM-74s, 5.56 caliber. We expect to be working primarily in urban environments within close quarters, making these weapons more practical than the AK or AKM-47 7.62 variety. However, we do have access to a much wider variety we can use if needed for this operation.”

  “I assume that Mr. Scott is not your real name,” another Greek remarked. “Are we to assume that you are going to continue to be addressed by an alias?”

  “Yes,” Rhys countered. “For this mission, I will be referred to as Mr. Scott. My associates are Mr. Grey, he said pointing behind him to Mehendra, and Mr. Smith,” he pointed across the room to Yadav. “You also may wish to give aliases for the duration of this mission. You have all been selected by trusted sources, so I have no need to follow up to verify your histories. I would point out that if anyone gets caught, the less they have to give to the police can only buy the rest of us time as we make our escape.”

  “Since we will be operating illegally if called into action, what will be the exfiltration protocols if we should be compromised?” the Greek continued.

  “In the event any of us gets seized by the police during this operation, or if this house should be raided,” Rhys responded “consider the mission terminated. The moment any one of us is seized by the police, the protocol will be to disperse and exiting the country will proceed as quickly as possible. There will be no rendezvous or coded command. The team will be dissolved, and everyone is to make their way off the island. A boat will be on standby to collect everyone and transport them to Greece. You will be briefed on the details for this procedure just before we execute the mission. The boat will be activated on my command. Once that happens the boat will wait for two hours to gather those who have not been captured. After that, you will be on your own to make your escape. Arrangements will be made at that point to ensure you receive the remainder of your pay.”

  As their commander spoke, both Mehendra and Yadav carefully scrutinized each of the Greeks. As professional soldiers with years of combat experience, they had both developed a good instinct for assessing people in this profession. They had seen enough of both good and bad to spot quality soldiers from flakes and blowhards. As they watched each of the Greeks, they saw nothing but solid professionals. Despite their loose attire, everyone looked fit and serious. When the briefing began all went silent and gave their full attention to the commander. No one asked foolish questions or made jokes. Indeed, they were quite impressed with what they saw. Rhys’ British friend had selected his people well.

  “What will be the security protocols for here?” another Greek asked.

  “For now, we won’t bother with that,” Rhys said. “It’s doubtful anyone knows of our existence, so I don’t see a need to implement security measures until we go into operation. Even then, security will be subject to change based upon who we find ourselves up against. At the moment, we will always keep someone at the house while the rest of the team will focus on keeping in shape and rehearsing our mission. We all come from different military backgrounds and adhere to different tactical concepts and principles. Before we do anything else, I want to focus our downtime to emphasize training to rehearse and ensure we are all working off of the same concepts. Nothing is more dangerous in an operation than a team that is not using the same tactical book.” There was a universal chorus of agreement.

  “Where will we be practicing?” the same Greek asked.

  “We have been allocated a warehouse along the wharf that is close to where we will be operating,” Rhys explained. “In addition to housing our weapons and equipment, it will also give us a viable place to train and work out.”

  The meeting adjourned with Yadav leading the mercenaries upstairs to their rooms. Mehendra was tasked with masking the larger windows with thick covers while Rhys reached for his phone to brief Managua.

  22

  It was 2300 hours, Dasoudi Beach was moderately lively for the time of the evening. The number of beachgoers had steadily declined as the evening took over from the day. The older vacationers had retreated to the quiet of their hotels while the younger ones had taken to the club scene and the rest of the adventures the city’s nightlife offered. Those remaining were sprinklings of young lovers enjoying the romantic atmosphere of a tranquil beach moonlit waters. They were hardly paying attention to anything beyond their immediate world.

  Returning to the park, Sauwa walked the length of the trails for one quick recce to ensure they didn’t have some unnoticed pedestrian lurking about as a potential witness or whistleblower. She had walked the park every night around the same time for the last three days as part of her preparation. She had been accompanied by Gorzo, who added to her cover. In a place like the Dasoudi beach, young lovers walking around at night were more easily dismissed and forgotten than a young woman walking alone.

  They walked the entirety of the trail in the small park and were satisfied that no one was lingering nearby. The only thing they had to worry about was the police patrol. In their previous recces, they had discovered that around 2100 hours the local police kept a routine patrol pattern that had someone going through on an hourly basis. With the park generally deserted, anyone walking around was going to catch the interest of some cop. It was still a necessary risk. Having observed the housing complex, they determined that the parties seemed to be a nightly occurrence at one house or another, and generally ended or died down significantly at around midnight with the patrons drunk, tired, and or otherwise oblivious to everything around them. It was the ideal time to move on Prokopis’ house.

  Satisfied the park was empty, Gorzo and Sauwa slipped into the bushes where they had established their observation post. It was still shallow concealment and not what a skilled tactician would choose as grounds to launch an operation. But, under the cir
cumstances, it was good enough to work with. Dipping into her backpack, she pulled out her operational apparel. It consisted of a long black shirt, black tactical cargo pants, and some matching tennis shoes. Gorzo stood watching her get dressed. The trees and bushes made it difficult for her as she felt around in the dark to ensure her clothing was on correctly.

  She didn’t dare step out on the trail to check herself. She had to make sure she could feel the distinction between her tactical clothing and the cutoffs and short sleeved shirt she had been wearing. She added a knit cap that she pulled over her head stuffing her hair up inside it. She shoved a pair of tactical gloves into the back of her belt and draped her shirt over the top.

  Gorzo remained vigilant, acting as a lookout for anyone on the trail. Surprisingly he didn’t take advantage of the situation and try to see the young South African in lingerie ─ he remained focused on the mission. Sauwa picked up her binoculars and scouted the housing complex. As predicted, one of the houses had a party going on inside. The only other signs of life were a few upstairs lights in some of the other houses. Most of the homeowners had either gone to bed or were out hitting a club or a party somewhere else.

  Prokopis’ house was completely dark. He had left for his usual haunt several hours ago. De’vor and Sacchini had positioned themselves on the other side for a good view of the man’s house. Having watched him for the past couple of nights, they determined he kept a fairly regular schedule ─ leaving for his favorite club no later than 2100 hours. He kept an equally set schedule of returning around 0300 hours. The mercenaries had planned their operation around that timetable.

  Sauwa waited for another half hour until the police patrolman made his routine pass through the park area. She and Gorzo laid flat, face down on the ground, their bodies hidden by the shadows of the overhanging bushes. Just like the previous walkthroughs, the patrolman had no interest in anything off the pathway. He kept his flashlight entirely on the trail in front of him, never once letting the light drift into the bush line where he might have caught the outline of the two mercenaries. Instead, he leisurely walked past as he went about his patrol.

  It wasn’t as if they were committing an illegal act being in the park. But, at that hour, alone as they were, they didn’t look the type to be part of the upscale crowd from the townhouses across the field. They would have assuredly drawn suspicion from any halfway decent cop. He would have questioned them and possibly demanded to see some form of identification. This was attention they couldn’t afford to have. Given that she was about to break into a house very close by.

  The patrolman continued on down the trail. They watched as the gleam of his light steadily vanished. When Sauwa was sure he was gone, she began to move onto the trail. She walked at a steady pace ─ not too fast but still brisk. She continued for several meters keeping low, her movements steady. She slithered through the tree line as if she were an apparition. As she neared the housing complex, the trees and bushes more manicured and sparsely set. Still, she was able to find enough dark pockets within the foliage to keep from creating a silhouette.

  She had wanted to carry out the breach during the day as this was a time when everyone was at work or somewhere else. This notion was discarded when, during the recce, they discovered that Prokopis kept a desultory schedule they could not plan around. He had stayed in his house one day until noon, another day he left a 0900 ─ he would leave suddenly and come home just as suddenly. They noticed several of his neighbors proved troublesome by also tending to have sporadic schedules. This made it too risky to attempt a successful break-in during such times.

  At the end of the tree line, she knelt near a patch of bushes that masked her from anyone coming outside. She took some time to study the situation. A few doors down she heard the laughter of people attending a hosted evening get together. She carefully watched for signs that the back doors of any of the houses were in use by someone who could come out at any time and catch her. Her appearance lurking about at such odd hours would make it difficult for anyone in the housing complex to believe she was visiting someone or had just moved in herself. The odds were that she would be challenged and eventually escorted off the premises.

  Initially, the plan had been for her to enter the house through the front door. Everyone thought she would be less conspicuous if she came from the street that ran through the neighborhood. This way she could more easily arrive at the housing complex looking like an average pedestrian, bypassing the complications presented by going through the park. However, this plan was scrapped when they saw the amount of human traffic passing by. Yet another problem were the neighbors from the apartments above ─ they hung out their balconies observing everything happening below.

  Someone fiddling with the locks would have been quickly noticed by any one of them. The final plan was to infiltrate from the back where it was more private and contained. She had considered coming up through the street, then casually making her way around the housing complex to the back area. This would alleviate the threat of prying eyes and avoid the unnecessary complications of dealing with the trees and shrubbery. However, Tarkov had vetoed the plan, arguing that the tree line afforded better concealment for the team and a more clandestine means to advance on the house. Sauwa’s protests seemed to fall on deaf ears. The Russian had made up his mind.

  After a few minutes of watching, she believed it was safe to move. She slipped out of the bushes onto the lawn. There were three houses between her and Prokopis’ house. She reached the house just before his and quietly worked her way up the short stairwell that led onto the back porch. She quickly dusted off any dirt or brush she may have picked up that could possibly be trekked into the house. The house was owned by a middle-aged woman who was an executive for a perfume company. Like everyone else in the housing complex, she led a life of parties and social events. Searching her garbage and the neighbor’s garbage on the other side of their target, they determined that she had a lover. She apparently spent many nights over at his place, leaving her house completely open. She apparently didn’t have security concerns, since there were no signs of alarm systems or cameras. It was decided that the most logical means of entry would be to go through her house.

  At the sliding glass door, Sauwa took a second to examine the handle. She could feel the locking mechanism when her fingers brushed across it. It was a small, one of a kind lock requiring a key. It would be slightly more difficult than the ones that had a breachable flip lock. She looked for any signs of human life in the area. Confident she was alone, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small flashlight. She knelt down until she was eye level with the lock.

  The porch was protected by a solid plastic railing providing her with concealment from prying eyes. She flipped on her flashlight, producing a red beam. She had covered the white lens with a red filter so the light wouldn’t disrupt her night vision. Holding the end of the flashlight in her mouth, she reached back into her pocket to retrieve a small purse. Placing it on the ground in front of her she unzipped it, revealing a collection of small metallic picks and tension bars. From her time in the Civil Cooperation Bureau, she had learned the art of forging lock picks from heavy duty safety pins and paper clips bent into the proper shape. Such tools are less useful for door locks than locks on furniture. Happily, she found that for such an expensive home, the lock on the slider was very much like one found on an office filing cabinet ─ one that a makeshift lock picking tool could shimmy.

  Lock-picking, a delicate art that requires not just skill but a well-practiced instinct, was a craft Sauwa hadn’t used since her days in England. It had taken her several hours of practice to retrieve her abilities and the feel even remotely confident. She had practiced working on the locks of the filing cabinets and desks in the office compartment in the warehouse. Eventually, she was able to find an empty townhouse with the same locking mechanism and was able to practice a few times.

  She began by blowing into the lock to ensure there was no blockage that woul
d impede her work. Next, she inserted the tension bar, a small flat strip of metal bent and twisted slightly, into the bottom of the keyway then inserted the pick ─ a straightened safety pin with the tip slightly bent ─ into the lock just above the tension bar. The pick slid all the way to the rear of the lock, and she felt it hitting the locking pins. Had this been a higher quality lock, the tools she was working with wouldn’t have been adequate.

  Applying a slight pressure on the tension bar to get the lock pins seated correctly, she, simultaneously jerked the pick in an outward direction ─ a practice in spycraft known as ‘raking’. The tricky part is measuring the degree of pressure on the tension in order to turn the lock barrel once the pins are seated. The whole process required a delicate touch. Applying slightly too much pressure to the tension bar to force the pins to lock, she missed the first time. It took her another two nerve-wracking tries before she heard the click and felt the lock recede.

  Before opening the door, Sauwa waited for a few seconds. Sounds travel better at night, so she took the time to listen for any alien noises that would alert her to an impending threat. The night remained silent except for the sound of the guests at the party nearby.

  Confident she was safe, she opened the door just enough for her to stand up and slide through slowly.