by J E Higgins
Slipping around the curtain, Sauwa slid the door shut behind her. A few lights had been left on removing the need to feel around for any light switches. The woman’s home was immaculate ─ every piece of furniture was placed in a specific location as part of an obvious grand design strategy. The furniture was decorative and artsy, indicating the owner was one who wanted to impress all those who entered her home.
Sauwa checked the curtain to make sure it covered the entire door. She then looked around to make sure all other windows were covered in a similar fashion. Neighbors were apt to dismiss lights on in a house, whether they knew the owner to be home or not. They weren’t so dismissive if they saw an apparent stranger walking around inside. Pressing on, she came to the edge of the dining room and peeked around to see what the next room looked like. Just as in the back, all the windows had the curtains tightly closed.
She made her way through the living room that was lit by a single lamp next to the piano off to her left. She looked for a coding pad on the wall near the main door checking for any signs of a security alarm system but saw nothing. She doubted a woman who didn’t care about getting better locks for her doors would bother with an electronic security system. Making her way to the staircase, she swung around the stair post and started carefully upward.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Sauwa entered a large open lounging area with cushioned furniture lining the walls and brass framed glass tables placed neatly in front of them. In the far corner next to a glass door was a well-stocked mini-bar offering a variety of drinks for both entertaining lady friends and gentlemen callers. She went through the lounging area to the glass doors. She opened them up and found herself on the balcony. The darkness helped to mask her and her activities if anyone downstairs should come outside. She closed the door until it was just slightly ajar so it wouldn’t raise suspicion.
Slipping on her gloves, she walked toward the edge of the balcony. She looked at the grounds below and then toward the tree line nearby. Confident there was no one around, she reached the wall separating the woman’s balcony from Prokopis’. Steadying herself with her other hand firmly on the ledge, she placed her feet on the ledge. Once her feet were firmly planted, she worked her way up until she was perched like a bird.
Slowly rising to a standing position, she turned carefully, edging her way toward the wall. Her tennis shoes were light, allowing her more feeling her way as she moved about in the darkness. When she was close enough, she brought her other hand to the other side of the wall. The white stone was smooth and provided very few places to grab onto. Thankfully, her gloves provided enough traction that she was able to take a firm hold as she swung her leg onto the ledge of the other house.
Repeating the exercise, she knelt down, placing her free hand on the ledge slowly lowering herself to the ground. She could feel the hard stone flooring under her feet. Now firmly planted, she proceeded to the glass door. Finding it locked, she repeated the lock-picking exercise from the previous door. And, like before, there were a few failures before she got it unlocked.
Making her way inside, she quickly shut the drape behind her and then went on to look for a light switch. She had found it was wiser when going through a home such as this at night to simply turn on the lights. It was more explainable to neighbors who would simply think the owner was home, over the more suspicious flashlight in a dark house. The lights flashed on to reveal a gaudy looking room that she surmised was the nexus for a bachelor pad. It was filled with trendy looking furniture she assumed was supposed to play into a cool hip image that the owner was clearly going for.
She walked over to a long coffee table in front of a well-used couch that she concluded was his primary place to settle when he was home. It sat across from a large television screen next to an ashtray full of cigarette butts. Beside the couch on a more elevated table was a cordless telephone with various pieces of paper littered about it. The paper looked to have writing that had been hastily scribbled on. She looked closer and found the writing to be in Greek and indecipherable to her.
Pulling a small disposable camera from her other cargo pocket she went about taking photos of the notes, spreading them out so she could take pictures of each note individually. Then she placed them back as best she could in the positions in which she found them. She went through this tedious exercise until she ran out of film. She continued about the house trying to see if there was perhaps any other place that Prokopis possibly conducted his business. A quick walk around of the upstairs showed nothing worth her time.
She ventured downstairs and came into a living room that hosted a scene every bit as gaudy as what she had just come from. Other doors led into other rooms, but a quick glance after turning on the light was enough to tell her that there was nothing more to be found. She made her way back up the stairs and out onto the balcony having turned off the lights and re-opened the curtains behind her.
She was stopped by the sight of a couple, a man and a woman down below. They appeared to have come from a party and had stepped outside for some privacy. The woman, a middle-aged and still very pretty brunette, was angrily waving her finger and speaking to the man in an acid tone. The man, not bothering to let the woman finish, was responding with equal volatility as he growled back at her. Sauwa hunkered down in the darkness of the corner watching as the couple went on with their drama.
The show went on for several minutes until finally, someone called out from the party that forced them to both come back inside. With the coast clear, Sauwa went about climbing back over onto the balcony of the next house. She found the door as she had left from and she quickly slipped through. She walked a few paces then turned to look back and make sure that she wasn’t leaving any dust or footprints that would alert that she had been in the house. Satisfied that she was leaving no trace she went back the way she had come.
At the back door, she snaked her way around the curtains and through the door which she had locked before shutting it behind her. The area was still clear, and she made her way down the stairs onto the grass. She walked slowly toward the trees line. It was only a distance of fifty meters, but it felt like she was walking for miles. She didn’t turn around, it would only look suspicious. Instead, she relied on her hearing. Listening for sounds of conversation or worse the sounds of someone lurking about who might have seen her and was now taking to watching or even following behind. She heard nothing as she made it the last few steps to the trees.
Sliding into the bushes, she took to the shadows as she made her careful trek back to the observation post and Gorzo. She moved at the same careful pace she had used coming in and followed the same pathway, keeping as much to the shadows as possible. She came around the full distance and was moving up on the location of the observation post when she was suddenly met by Gorzo who emerged from the bushes to meet her.
Without any words, he grabbed her, and with a powerful pull, he brought her to the ground and into a thick leafy bush. “Our policeman is coming up this way.” He whispered into her ear as he practically laid on top of her. If she had any thought that Gorzo was doing this as just another attempt to get with her, it was soon dispelled when shortly she saw the gleam of the policeman’s flashlight loom overhead and the sound of his boots as they rapped against the pavement as he continued on.
The mercenaries remained as they were, motionless for a few minutes until they could no longer hear him or see his light. Gorzo slid off of her and allowed her to sit up. “I watched you through the binoculars.” He said, “Quite the acrobat.” He handed her backpack to her. She emptied the contents of her cargo pockets into her front pouch and then repeated her routine as she undressed and dressed back into her original attire. If anyone could have possibly seen her during any of this, they would have seen a person alone dressed in black. Not two people, dressed in light summer attire.
She finished and stood up as she ambled out of the trees onto the trail with Gorzo right in tow. Now, on the trail walking along as if they were two lovers e
njoying the night, they were free to talk. “Did you find anything on your adventure?” Gorzo asked as he wrapped his arm around her waist. She found his brazen advancement irritating but resisted any direct reprisal. She had been chastised by Tarkov, who reminded her that they were paired together because they could believably play a romantic young couple and such advancements were expected from him. She didn’t like it but understood her commander was right.
“I got some pictures of some notes,” she said. “I hope that’ll have something. Otherwise, the house had nothing, and I never want to go back there again.”
They continued out of the park and onto the beach. The whole time the Italian made a point of keeping close to her. Apparently savoring the victory, he got to be more intimate and personal. They continued down the beach appearing to anyone as if they were a young couple enjoying an evening stroll.
23
Nico examined the documents as everyone waited patiently. It was a time-consuming endeavor given that the young man was having to decipher virtual scribbles. This task was further complicated by the fact that he had to view the documents through photographs taken from a cheap disposable camera. Armed with a magnifying glass, he studied the pictures closely, as if they were specimens in a lab.
The German lawyer, Karl Brukman, stayed away from the mercenaries. His refused to have any dialogue with the ‘professional killers’. The only one he talked to was Carzona and, even then, only when they were alone and able to speak privately. The German had been drawn into this operation and was afraid he was going to be compromised, with the eventual police investigation leading right back to him. Anyone of these soldiers could easily finger him or provide enough information for him to be ruined.
It had been an arduous task, but Nico gradually began to make sense of the pictures he was trying to interpret and separated them into groups. He began to arrange them into series, making notes in English on the ones he considered pertinent.
“Have you found anything?” Tarkov interrupted as he walked up behind the young man and peered over his shoulder.
Lowering the magnifying glass, Nico rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He dropped his hand onto one of the stacks. “I don’t know exactly what you’re looking for. Most of the notes involve the club he frequents or some things that seem like personal duties. All the notes seem to pertain to issues relating to the same shipyard and pier. I placed those in this stack and transcribed what I could read into English. My notes are in this notebook.”
Tarkov picked up the young man’s notebook and began to read. “Remember, I was only able to write down what I could understand from everything here. It will seem a bit choppy,” Nico cautioned.
The Russian patted the young man on the shoulder and gave him a sympathetic glance as he reviewed the notes. Every one of them cited the same information as the notes they had pulled from the trash. The ship was arriving at Sodap ─ the newest and biggest industrial port in Cyprus. The notes indicated the operation was to take place at the north pier sometime late, around 0100-0200 hours. The notes further mentioned the names of two ships: The Romanov and the Chin Wu. The sight of a ship with a Chinese name caught Tarkov’s attention immediately.
Carzona walked toward him. Tarkov thrust the notebook at the Filipino pressing him to review the findings. He pointed to a page, and Carzona focused on those notes. He agreed there was a possibility this meant something. Exploring the information further gave them a time, a location, and finally a date ─ four days from now.
“This has to be it,” Tarkov exclaimed as he retrieved the notebook from Carzona. “These boats have to be our target.”
Carzona held the expressionless, stoic pose that was becoming his signature characteristic. “It certainly could be. With what we have to work with right now, it is our most viable information. Is there any other intelligence we can use?”
The Russian shot a look at Nico checking one last time for anything else he might have discovered. Nico looked at Tarkov and said, “From all the notes available, this issue seems to be the most significant. The way they are written, many of the points emphasized the great importance of this transaction.” Nico was again pointing to the collection of photographs on the table. “All these address the same issue. Whatever we are reading, it is certainly important.”
Carzona’s face morphed into a look of concern. “I would have liked to gather more intelligence to be sure. If we move on this, and it turns out it’s not our target, we’ll have blown our hand and put our enemy on alert.”
Tarkov retrieved the notebook from his employer. “And, if it is, and we don’t move, then we’ll have missed our window, and this mission will have been for nothing. I agree this is not much to go on and if I thought we could do it, I would have Prokopis picked up and let Sauwa go to work on him. I’m sure she knows some good interrogation methods that would have him talking in no time. But, we would also be exposing ourselves if we did.”
The next day Tarkov returned to the warehouse after walking with the team through the facilities at the Sodap port. They had spent most of the day conducting a recce of the location to gain first-hand knowledge of the area and brought a reluctant Nico along to help navigate. He took them close to where the ships came into port. Carzona opted not to go and remained at the warehouse. This recce was too close to the enemy, and he didn’t want to risk being noticed and possibly compromise their plan.
The port was buzzing with activity as shipyard workers tended to facility maintenance or loading and unloading the cargo of incoming and outgoing ships. Hauling trucks of all types moved out the access roads like ants working through the caverns of their nest. Businessmen in suits were everywhere observing the movement of their goods. No one took the slightest notice of a group of foreign mercenaries as they walked about freely through the port.
When they got to their destination, the team spread out to cover more ground. The port was enormous, encompassing several miles, and was nearly a city unto itself. Tarkov went with Sauwa and De’vor while the two Italians went in the opposite direction. Nico was asking around to get a feel for the place. On one side, there was a long stretch of road over a man-made sandbar where a ship could pull up parallel to it. On the other side was a peninsula that ran along the sandbar that served to box in the port forming a single opening to enter and exit.
Once inside the port, it broke off in two directions ─ one side was a giant rectangular shaped pool; veering left, the other side was a more compact rectangular shape. The exterior was surrounded by a long stretch of road that led from downtown all the way to the end of the port forming a traffic loop that wrapped around the port peninsula providing multiple directions back into the city.
The team walked along the corner of the more compact rectangular area across from the sandbar. According to the notes, this was where the delivery was to take place. The surrounding area was near a set of large overhanging cranes making it perfect for accommodating the transfer of cargo from one ship to another.
“Strategically, it would be difficult to assault from this place,” De’vor said disappointedly. “Only one road leads in here giving our adversary the advantage of overhead visibility if they use those cranes. They can see us coming from any direction and could meet us before we even got close to the threat.”
“The problem is we don’t even know what kind of opposition we’ll be up against,” Sauwa added. “We have to assume with something as big as this, they’ll have some reasonable security we’ll have to confront.”
“No, a direct assault on land would be out of the question,” Tarkov nodded as Sauwa looked around. “Let’s keep walking and see what other options we have.”
The trio continued their walk along the pier. They scrutinized the location with the eyes of professional soldiers. Sauwa could see the two commandos use their honed instincts to study the location. Their minds had become machines calculating every foreseeable situation and strategizing how best to respond to it. They took note of the
strategic complications that would work against them and also made note of any factors that might work in their favor. Every one of them fretted over the fact that they had no real idea of what they would be up against.
Sauwa suddenly became aware that some other men were walking about in the same location. She would have dismissed them as people conducting their own business, but they seemed out of place to her. What first got her attention was that they all looked fit and weren’t dressed at all like the coverall clad workman around them. What was more, a couple of the men were clearly not ethnic Greeks ─ one was pale white and looked to be British, or possibly Scottish, while the other two appeared to be his confidants and looked like East Asians. The men didn’t seem interested in either the ships moored along the pier or any of the cargo containers stacked nearby. They seemed to be looking about assessing the location itself. It was as if they were conducting a recce. She had nonchalantly alerted Tarkov to the group of men. Both he and De’vor stepped behind a set of containers as they stood watching them for a few minutes. Like Sauwa, they too figured they had just met their adversaries.
Not wanting to be noticed by the group, she and the others continued walking up and back down the length of the road. As they walked, Tarkov constantly looked over at the main road leading into the port and then at the sandbar across the way. He studied it for a long time before returning his attention to the more immediate vicinity. He also took an interest in the lighting, both on the overhead cranes and along the pier. He took some time to assess the strength of the current, the temperature of what the water would be at night, and the lighting system along the pier. His two compatriots were busy doing the same, allowing their own professional instincts to take root while they observed their surroundings imaging it as a battlefield.
The Italians, with the help of Nico, discovered that security in the facility was lax. There was only a small human contingent on the ground to keep out riff-raff and potential hijackers. Otherwise, security was minimal with only a few video cameras at the exterior of the port. It was clear that the port’s clientele enjoyed a great deal of discretion when conducting their business. What they also discovered was that human traffic was constantly coming in and going out day and night. Though it did die down somewhat in the evening, sporadic groups came in for the ships that arrived during the early hours.