Chapter 21
Boris Koch had arranged to meet with Pyotr Smitz and his most competent field officer, a young but quite ruthless woman by the name of Julia Klimentovà. He chose to walk the hundred metres or so from his office in the Government Administration Building to the nondescript stone walled SSB headquarters. It was late afternoon and already the light was fading into a depressing greyness as Koch paced cautiously along the wet pavement; the last of the brown autumn leaves making the street treacherous in the smooth soled Italian shoes he wore. In the distance he could hear the ominous yet all too familiar sound of heavy artillery pounding away at the rebel stronghold on the hills overlooking Rubansk. He stopped for a moment by the Platza Sachovia where in his youth, a cast bronze statue of Karl Marx had stood. Now the place was little more than an unkempt garden surrounded by iron railings, the gates locked at night to keep the vagrants and stray dogs away. The once attractive fountain had been dry since two summers ago and the cobbled pathway was littered by discarded take-away containers and empty cigarette packets. Koch could feel his country slipping away from him again.
He had been gripped by a vision for Sachovia; he had intended it becoming a modern prosperous country with maybe an acknowledgement to his own personal achievements in bringing about the transformation. Maybe one day, he had once thought, a statue of himself might grace the Platza. Now he doubted that he would even survive to reach the tranquillity of his retirement. He finally climbed the stone steps up to the SSB headquarters and bitten by disillusion and misdirected anger pushed through the heavy doors.
"Prime Minister... You should have waited for an escort, we cannot guarantee your safety on the streets at the moment."
"It is a sorry state of affairs if the Prime Minister of Sachovia cannot walk a few metres from his office without an armed escort." Koch said as he looked at Pyotr Smitz with an expression that might have been taken for contempt. Smitz chose to ignore the penetrating look; he was a man skilled in the art of avoiding unnecessary conflicts. This was in direct contrast with his Prime Minister who stood before him unable to stop himself from probing at any niggling issue until, by virtue of his involvement, it inevitably turned into a major problem.
"I have Julia Klimentovà in my office, would you prefer to speak with her alone?" Smitz said. "I have already taken the liberty of outlining in principal what you want her to do." Smitz’ voice gave the impression that he rather wanted to distance himself from Koch's present initiative.
"You think my desire for revenge against Valentina Gussev is unworthy?" Koch said.
"I think there may be more pressing matters for my staff to be engaged in at present... In light of the current emergency."
"Call a spade a spade man... What we are facing is no emergency, it's the start of another bloody war. I've been fooling myself for too long about that; it's time to face up to the reality of the situation."
"I fear you are correct Prime Minister."
Koch cleared his throat, it sounded like the growl of a wild animal before launching an attack. When it came, the attack was mild.
"I'm a simple man driven by simple emotions Smitz. Gussev betrayed me outrageously and she can not be allowed to get away with that. If the SSB is unable to supply a single operative to undertake a mission for the Prime Minister, then perhaps you have not maintained the security bureau in full operational strength as is required by the obligations of your office." Smitz chose not to reply but offered Koch an unconvincing smile. "I'll speak to her alone Smitz if you don't have the stomach for this affair..."
"As you wish Prime Minister."
The head of the SSB led Boris Koch along the corridor and into his office. Koch took the chair behind the desk and left General Smitz standing.
"Do you have any drink in this place?" Koch said.
"I have a decanter of Cognac."
"No Vodka?"
"I'm afraid not Prime Minister." Smitz pressed a buzzer on his desk and within moments a tall young woman with long brown hair walked in and without a word swept her skirts under her and sat primly before the desk as if she were about to take dictation.
"This is Major Julia Klimentovà." Smitz said.
"Give her a drink."
The General poured two generous measures of Cognac and with obvious displeasure placed one before Koch and handed the other to Julia Klimentovà.
"I'll leave you to discuss your business." Smitz said and made his exit.
"You understand what I want you to do Major?"
"General Smitz has explained... You want Valentina Gussev tracked and returned to face justice."
"There will be no need to return her... You understand me?"
"Your meaning is quite clear… You want me to eliminate her."
"I want her dead Klimentovà can I make myself any clearer?"
"No indeed not..." She took a gulp of her drink. "I have never really met Valentina Gussev but I know her from her reputation... admired her from afar. Her reputation in the SSB is a formidable one."
"Have no concern; Gussev is long past her prime."
"Her abilities are not my concern Prime minister, it is rather that she is held in such high regard by those who knew her and seems to have shown a long term loyal commitment to Sachovia."
"That used to be the case… I am quite aware that Valentina Gussev is held up as a role model to all new recruits and her gallantry in the war is a thing that legends are built of."
"So what has she done to justify a death sentence?"
"It is not for you to question my motives... How old are you Klimentovà?"
"I'm twenty six sir."
"You would have been just a school girl during the 06 war. I can't expect you to understand what loyalty meant to us back then. Gussev has betrayed her loyalty to me and by doing so to Sachovia as well. She must face the ultimate justice."
The Major gave an unconvincing nod.
"Are you willing to accept this commission?"
"As a sworn officer of the SSB of course; my duty is to obey orders without question... Whether I fully understand the implications or not."
"That is exactly so Major Klimentovà. You would hardly have risen so high in rank at your young age without showing the right level of… commitment."
"Thank you sir."
"Valentina Gussev is not the only SSB officer to have an enviable reputation, you have shown yourself to be a formidable undercover asset."
"I am successful at what I do Prime Minister but my missions rarely bring me any personal satisfaction. I may be young Prime Minister but my life has been rich with experience, may I ask you to reconsider your action towards Valentina Gussev? My experience has led me to believe that revenge is a hollow pursuit."
"I will not be lectured on ethics by a slip of a girl Major. Nor will I be deflected from my intentions. I understand your feelings but you are a soldier of Sachovia, what you have done in the past and what you must do in the future is for your Country. Sachovia is in your debt, but the obligations run both ways."
Julia nodded but the look of scepticism in her eyes was there for anyone who might care to notice.
"Thank you sir." She said. "I am fully committed to doing my duty."
"Good I expected nothing less... Julia, General Smitz has already had his feelers out looking for Gussev. We had contact with her from her boat off Capo d'Orlando which gave us a starting point from which to launch our search. There are some 'eyes' on our payroll in the area. Her boat, the Midnight Falcon... you have photographs... was reported to have recently made port in Marseille. I suggest you make your way there at all speed... Don't let me down on this Major Klimentovà... I can be most unforgiving of failure."
...
Valentina had left her boat at the Vieux Port moorings. Now that her precious cargo was discharged she had decided to spend a little time ashore and had taken a room at the Marseille Métior Hotel. The hotel was close to the marina within sight of the Abbaye Saint-Victor. She intended spending no more than a couple of days of r
est and recreation before finally deciding on how best to make her escape from Koch's clutches. She knew that it would take a while before they would be able to trace her. Her last known position was in Sicily and from there she could have gone in any direction. The Falcon was perhaps, she realised, a millstone round her neck making her easier to find but she could not bring herself to abandon the craft that had meant so much to her. In whatever fashion her disappearance would be accomplished, she knew that the Midnight Falcon would play an important role.
After booking into the hotel, Valentina spent the afternoon shopping for clothing more suitable for the fast approaching winter. She suddenly realised that almost everything she owned was still in her flat in Sachovia. All the links to her past, to her long dead family and loved ones were now inaccessible to her. No photographs, no shared treasures, nothing remained that grounded her life in meaning... She was truly alone now, even her career was over with no hope of return. The Midnight Falcon was her only real possession, in some ways her only friend.
It was with these desolate thoughts that Valentina ate a lonely dinner at the hotel. She thought of her time on Ikinos; everything had seemed so simple back then. What she was intending to do to Natasha and Colby had seemed like a dream, nothing to do with reality at all. Valentina ordered a slice of chocolate gateaux, a taste of comfort food. She sat by herself watching the other diners. She was the only one who dined alone and she wondered if this was to be her life from now on, alone and approaching middle age with little to look forward to. Dragging herself from the self pity Valentina decided to take a stroll down to the Falcon with her shopping; she would store it on board ready for an easy departure when the time was right.
Her pretty little ketch seemed to have a strong pull on her emotions. 'Transference' – she knew the term a psychologist might use to describe her feelings. She was clinging to her ketch with the love that was really meant for Natasha and Katrina and... that man who had got deep under her skin but now hated her for what she had done. Valentina could not blame him, she understood the feelings because in her darkest moment she shared them.
...
Expedited by official channels, Julia Klimentovà had been on an Airbus A350 to Marseille within four hours of her meeting with Boris Koch. The SSB had wasted no time in the search for Valentina Gussev and had already made contact with an expatriate Sachovian who had a business in Marseille taking aerial photographs with a small remote control drone. The man was wanted for some petty indiscretion back in Sachovia and was readily convinced by some gentle pressure regarding this to fly his drone across the waterfront and moorings of Marseille and take some photographs, nothing out of the ordinary for him. It was an easy afternoon's work but for the SSB a very fruitful one. The Midnight Falcon had readily made its presence known to the drone’s high definition camera. The SSB aerial surveillance office quickly located the ketch moored on the south of the Vieux Port. Moreover the boat was in a relatively secluded spot ideal for their purpose. A message was immediately despatched to Major Julia Klimentovà.
...
Valentina's meal finished, she made her exit of the Métior. She smiled her best fake-smile to the Concierge who held the door open for her and wished her a jovial 'Bonsoir Madame'. The evening air greeted her with a cool freshness; the dark sky was clear and away from the lights the stars shone stark and cold. Valentina was thankful for the newly purchased quilted jacket as she made her way down to the marina with several bags of shopping. As she turned the corner by the office building, crossing the sharp pool of brightness from the security lights, Valentina saw the Falcon. It looked almost delicate against the mass of larger vessels that were moored at the marina. The stern was towards her and she watched with affection as the small craft gently bobbed and swayed in the calm water. But the woman's figure darting about the Falcon filled Valentina with sudden trepidation.
Instinctively she stopped walking and slipped out of the light into the shadows. From the distance that separated them and under the meagre light, the figure could almost be mistaken for Katrina… if that were not impossible and if the clearly covert behaviour of the trespasser were not so familiar to Valentina from her own SSB training. Valentina felt that there was something familiar about the woman; she could not put a name to her but the sense that she had seen her before somewhere was as chilling as it was palpable. So soon she thought. How can they have found me already?
...
Unaware that her presence had been observed, Julia Klimentovà made a rapid search of the Falcon. There was nothing she was really looking for; confirmation that this was indeed Gussev's boat was apparent enough to her trained eye. What she wanted was a suitable place to hide a GPS tracking device so that she would be able to locate the boat again at any time whether in port or at sea. She found what she wanted in the forward cabin inside a small storage locker under a squab. She exposed the sticky pad of the tracking device and stuck it up out of sight on the upper surface of the locker, closed the door and replaced the squab. Valentina's satphone had been left in the galley Julia knew the model, knew how to sabotage it. She pulled out the crystal oscillator pack and tossed it casually through the porthole into the water. Then she crept back up on deck and ducked down behind the gunwale peering out briefly to make sure no one was about before she slipped delicately back onto dry land and strolled away as if she were just on an evening walk.
Valentina quickly went aboard the Falcon. The cheap padlock that locked the hatchway was still attached, still locked but Valentina knew how trivial an obstacle it would be to an undercover agent. Valentina had not thought to equip the hatch with anything more secure, until very recently there had seemed no need. The padlock opened for Valentina's key, possibly a little more stiffly than usual and Valentina entered her floating domain caught in a feeling that her personal space had been violated by the intruder. She dropped her shopping on the bunk of her cabin and carefully unlocked a small secure metal box that had been fitted to the top of her storage closet. Her fingers felt inside until they unexpectedly touched the ring that Colby had insisted she take. The feel of it sent a surge of emotion through her and she had to steady herself for a moment. She had told him that she would never wear it, now the simple gold band felt like the most precious thing she owned.
She drew her breath and pulled her thoughts back to the matter in hand, her fingers found the cold metal of what she wanted a 9 mm Marakov pistol. The gun had rested there since she had hidden it shortly after the Falcon was refitted, she hoped never to have need of it. Now as she drew it into her hands she felt saddened that she had been tipped back into the world of easy violence. A world where a human life with all its richness of friends and loved ones, with all the hopes for the future, could be so easily extinguished. Her fingers pushed home a full clip of 10 rounds and she slipped it into the waist band of her jeans, snug and unseen against the crease of her back.
The whole thing had taken less than two minutes and Valentina was back on land. She raced in the direction that the intruder had gone and slowed to a jog then a walk as she closed in on the strolling woman. They were on the Quai de Rive Neuve walking along the waterfront past the multitude of uncountable boats that were more a display of their owner's wealth than a functional means of transport. Valentina followed, keeping to the shadows. The woman passed the newly opened Starbucks and then with a brief look behind her, turned up the Place aux Huiles. She continued past the Queen Victoria pub until she disappeared into one of the many cafés and bistros that competed for trade in the busy waterfront centre.
Valentina stood at the doorway; she could see the agent through the glass seated at a table with her back to the door. She looked relaxed, at ease with herself as she gave her order to a pretty young waitress who seemed distracted by a group of boys in the corner. A sense of transcendent calmness fell over Valentina. However reluctantly, this was familiar territory for her, this was where her deadly expertise lay. Valentina entered the bistro, 'Le Petit Chat Noir', the room felt wa
rm after the chill night air and was filled with the seductive aroma of cooking, the atmosphere one of gentle relaxation. Under different circumstance it would have been a welcome place of escape. Without speaking she pulled out a chair and sat at the same table as the woman. Arms folded, her eyes held the younger woman’s for a long moment before she shifted her position and finally spoke.
"Find anything interesting aboard my ketch?" She said in their shared native language.
"Hello Valentina, it's an honour to finally meet you." Julia said, her composure hardly wavering by the encounter. The waitress returned and Valentina ordered an espresso.
"Do you have a name?" Valentina said.
"Julia Klimentovà."
Valentina made a slow nod of her head as if the name held some meaning for her.
"The name is familiar; our paths probably crossed during your training."
"We never actually met…"
"No…"
The two women exchanged a look of intense curiosity. For both women it was like looking into the jaws of a tiger. Both knew it might be a fatal mistake to flinch or show any trace of fear.
"Koch sent me." Julia finally said.
"Tell me something I don't know... Tell me about yourself Julia Klimentovà... What makes you tick?"
Julia allowed her frown to soften a trace. It made her face look younger but no less determined.
"You should know that…" She said "I'm just another version of you. I'm Valentina Gussev as you were ten years ago."
"Now you're trying to frighten me." Valentina said. There was not a trace of a smile on her face and her eyes had now narrowed. She knew that she was facing a facsimile of herself. She knew how ruthless she had been when she was this girl's age. "Do you have a family?" Valentina said.
"I have parents, a younger brother."
"No partner?"
Julia did not answer but gave a non-committal smile. A chill smile that offered not a trace of warmth nor a glimpse into her true feelings.
"And you are prepared to accept that by coming after me, you might never see them again?"
"Why would I have to be prepared for that Valentina?" Valentina drained her espresso in a single hit. It was as hot and bitter as she was. She made no answer to the question and let the silence hang over them like a lead weight.
Julia was the first to break the silence: "I have my duty to do Valentina... You know you were always my role model during my training. 'What would Valentina Gussev do in this situation?' Was a chant forever on the lips of my instructors and then always on my own lips after I graduated and was sent into the field. So Valentina Gussev... What would you do in a situation like this?"
"Does it trouble you to be facing the woman with my reputation?"
"Koch tells me you are past your prime."
"I think he's mistaking me for someone closer to home." Valentina said.
"So answer my question Valentina Gussev. As the role model for all recent SSB field agents... What would you do in this situation?"
"Ten years ago I would already have killed you…"
"I doubt that…"
"Well young lady I have an SSB issue Marakov aimed at your belly as we speak." Julia shifted her gaze and saw with some astonishment that Valentina was as good as her word. The barrel of a 9 mm pistol was so close that it would be impossible to miss her should the trigger be squeezed. The hairs on the back of Julia's neck told her to run… It was an urgent message powered by a surge of adrenaline but she could not. Julia was frozen to the spot quite unable to move.
"Go home Julia... tell Koch you couldn't find me, I've had enough of killing, I want to find my humanity again."
Julia was pale, the blood drained from her face. "And if I can't do that?" she said. Valentina's reply was spoken softly but the menace in her words were if anything enhanced by the hushed delivery.
"If you continue to come after me Julia Klimentovà, I will protect myself with everything I know." She paused and locked eyes with the young woman. "I will kill you Julia, make no mistake about that."
Julia forced herself to make a watery smile. The smile was on her lips but her eyes showed nothing but fear.
"You're young Julia, you have your life to live, don't waste it trying to satisfy some trivial petty revenge for Boris Koch. Koch is history, the Sachovia you know will be gone in five years. Don't you want to be part of the re-building? Don't you want to be able to go home to your loved ones again one day and find a life away from this insanity?"
"I do want that Valentina but I have my duty... I'm sorry."
"Then I am sorry too..."
Valentina pulled the trigger of her Marakov five times in quick succession, Julia fell back in absolute terror, her chair toppling against the hard tiled floor with a clatter that had all the heads in the café turning in astonishment.
Valentina stood over the young woman, her gun was already tucked away again out of sight as a silence fell over the café. She knelt down and whispered softly into the woman's ear.
"Next time the clip will be in... Don't let there be a next time." She turned and slipped away into the cold shadows of the night where a light mist had risen and haloed the Moon with a mourner's veil.
An hour later the Midnight Falcon was already three miles off shore and drawing power from the wind as it coursed towards the horizon. Valentina still had no conscious idea where she was heading... She had no idea but her heart guided by the Falcon's speed seemed to have no doubt.
The Midnight Falcon Page 21