by DAK
Chapter Ten
The next three days went quickly. Not due to anything exciting happening but simply due to the pace. I needed to allay any suspicions the opposition had and the best way, while I was waiting on direction, was to live my cover. That’s something one has to do anyway but it is frequently hard to do fully when operational with limited support. Now, having time in which I had no operational requirements except personal security, I could throw myself into the role of a journalist gathering facts, statements and opinions on the situation at the Serbia/Kosova border. I scheduled interviews, attended briefings, sat in cafes with other members of the press and generally made myself an informed member of the fourth estate. My surveillance team continued to show up for most of that time but it got progressively less interested in me and more in the passing women. By the morning of the third day I left the hotel for breakfast with some new journalist friends and found myself either without surveillance or else with a full suite of extremely talented followers. My money was on the former.
I had, of necessity, been moving with the M57 locked in my case since so many of the places I visited in my cover role were high security establishments. I couldn’t bring the weapon through metal detectors etc. I had to gamble that my tradecraft thus far was keeping the opposition in the dark and that as a result the possibility for direct action was reduced. It still made the skin at the back of my neck tighten but hey, you learn to accept the risks involved or find another way to pay the bills. I was glad I was unarmed this morning when I found the café where we were to meet already occupied by a high level Serbian delegation and their UNMIK security detail poised outside using metal detection wands to sweep patrons prior to permitting entry. It would have looked strange if I suddenly decided to forego breakfast with the folks I was to meet sitting at a window and waving a greeting. Not being armed meant I could smile the tolerant and smug smile of the privileged and protected, stand while the wand did its job and then enter to gossip and eat under the protective coloration of the rest of the press crowd. My new friends had little to offer other than an additional layer of cover. They were the typical international press one finds in places like Kosovo, superficially knowledgeable, well educated in theories, articulate and extremely opinionated about things outside their personal experience. Seeing someone suffering from starvation while dining on expense account meals does not make one an expert on starvation and its effects upon those who experience it, for example. Being self-absorbed and willing to pontificate along whatever lines sell best is, however, a prime requisite for the press so I expected nothing else and was easily able to go with the flow by aping the general tenor of their shallow world view. Don’t get me wrong. There are some excellent journalists out there who genuinely care and seek to tell things from a real world perspective. They are also usually folks who come to journalism later in life and in any case are far outnumbered by the ones whose flit from story to story, telling a lot but failing to show much of anything.
My reservations about the quality of the international press aside, they did provide good cover and, as an independent consultant, I was able to use them for that purpose where direct agents of the USG could not. There are good reasons why this is so, some equally good ones why it should be ignored and being able to do so in the interests of operational expediency was one of the benefits to employing deniable assets like InSol. I finished my breakfast as well as a discussion on the similarities between Serbia wishing to retain Kosovo and the US wishing to retain the American Southwest (most of the press were gleefully in favor of the return of these areas to Mexico as they were of anything which might trouble a country they regarded with either jealous envy or self-resentful shame depending upon their citizenship). The need for stretching muscles too long dormant gave me an excuse to stroll in the clear, cold air and I went for a long, complicated walk around the city. I found myself completely alone, no signs of surveillance even when I escalated my counter surveillance drills to a more aggressive level. This was good as it meant, provisionally and with a fair amount of caution, that I was free to move about the country albeit with an eye toward someone popping up unexpectedly. It is a small country after all.
I gave Naim a call to see if he was free to meet. I’d need his assistance to locate a safe house. A few minutes later we were standing together in the large open air market set up near the stadium. This was a maze of small stalls and haphazard shops selling everything from clothing, household goods, and CDs to car parts, cheap jewelry and, if you knew who to speak with, contraband of all types. It was crowded, twisty and narrow with plenty of visual cover which made it suitable for us to strike up a conversation while looking over a selection of bootleg CDs.
“You’ve come a long way baby,” I said, holding up a CD featuring Brittany Spears in a schoolgirl outfit on the cover.
Naim didn’t get the reference but gave a short laugh anyway. “She doesn’t do it for me anymore man. Gotten too old.”
I raised my eyebrows in response and Naim laughed again. The difference in our ages was a running joke as I was older than his father who, admittedly had been in his late teens when Naim entered the picture. I shook my head as if saddened by the callowness of youth and began to flick through another row of CDs.
“I’m going to need to move to another place. Somewhere off the beaten path but where I can come and go freely. I’ll need to have my vehicle under cover as well.”
Naim nodded and replied as he raised a Poison CD for a closer examination of the back of the case.
“Easy day. My cousin has a place in Kosovo Polje. An Albanian house, not Serbian. Just this side of the town. It’s empty now since he and his family are on holiday. You can move in whenever you like.”
“Perfect. I’ll need you to collect my case and car for me. Can you get someone to do that and meet us there with them?”
“Sure, ska problem. Give me a couple hours. Want to have lunch and then go there?”
“Can’t see why not,” I replied.
Naim bought a couple of CDs and we walked out of the bazaar as he phoned a friend. I passed him my hotel room key card and we parted to meet again at a pizzeria he favored nearby. I ran a short SDR on the way and found no one. Naim rejoined me shortly and I passed over the Euros to cover his friend’s effort and cousin’s house. I’d either check out myself later or do so through the internet as the credit card the hotel had recorded was one tied to a deposit in a Greek bank. So long as there was enough in the account the card was good. In the meantime I was changing my base of operations in a way hopefully undetectable to the opposition. That would give me more operational freedom when I received a response from InSol. Naim and I ate a quiet lunch, chatting about mutual friends and recent events. When we were finished we took his Mercedes to KP.
His cousin’s house was indeed Albanian which meant it was on the Pristina side of KP and had a wall around it. Many Serbian houses did not have this feature, almost all Albanian ones did. The wall would hide my vehicle and me from prying eyes. The house was one street off the main road, Lidhja e Pejes, better known as Airport Road as it was the main route to and from the Pristina Airport and the city itself. The house was set back with a blue metal gate in the high brick wall. I rolled the gate open, Naim drove inside and I closed the gate behind him. My rental BMW was already parked ahead of his in the short driveway where his friend had left it. We entered, Naim handing me a key and showing me around the small, two story, two bedroom house. I moved my case from the car into the smaller bedroom, chained it to a chair out of habit and joined Naim on the balcony where he was lighting another cigarette.
“Thanks, this works very well. I haven’t seen any signs of surveillance today and will let you know if they turn up again.”
“OK, I am glad you like it. Just leave the key inside if you do not see me before you leave. My cousin won’t be back for two weeks and the neighbors here will leave you alone. I’ll go let them know now that you are staying here so they don’t get suspicious.”
I thanked Naim and remained on the balcony surveying the surrounding area as he went to clue the neighbors in that his family had a guest staying in the house. The neighbors would watch me out of the corner of their eyes but otherwise leave me to my business. They’d also notice anyone who didn’t belong and let Naim know which added a small layer of security to the safe house. I worked out two emergency bug out routes in case of an assault and then went for a walk toward Airport Road in order to use one of the small internet cafes located at the town limits. Once there I broke out my trusty thumb drive and checked my email. There was one from Steve which made me very happy as playing journalist was getting old.
Yes, I have a low boredom threshold. You think people who are easily contented do this type of work? There is a balance to be had but most of us are like sharks, always feeling better if in motion.
Steve’s response was encoded and I downloaded it to my thumb drive to decode on my laptop. I wiped the computer, paid and walked back, dropping off the main road as soon as possible in order to avoid incidental sightings by anyone driving by. Re-entering the house I locked the gate and doors, climbed the stairs to the second floor bedroom and opened the case. It took only a few minutes to power up and decrypt Steve’s response. My pulse increased as I finally got the direction for which I had been waiting.
DIA had taken part of my recommendation to heart. They wanted to task Aferdita with emplacing several tracking devices on vehicles used by Enver and his crew. They also wanted her to gather a complete list of personnel, phone numbers, addresses, vehicle registrations and other data involving the people in his group and those closely associated with them. After that was completed, DIA wanted her extracted to the Embassy in Skopje where she could be debriefed before travelling to the US. She’d be issued a Green Card provided she continued to cooperate with various members of the intelligence community, many of whom would want to speak with her to obtain additional details they might lack regarding the cooperation between various jihadist groups and the Serbian mafia. This was excellent as it meant she would be able to escape an intolerable situation and begin to piece together a new life in a safe place. I would have to sell it a bit as it lacked the visceral satisfaction she desired but I was fairly sure she would take the opportunity to live again instead of sacrificing herself for no real gain. I certainly hoped so as I really wanted to see her out of the slavery in all but name which she had endured for love of her brother. That kind of self-sacrifice was something I could respect and I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t do everything I could to honor it.
The part DIA hadn’t found acceptable was beginning development of Billi. They saw the possibility there but wanted to first complete the tasking and extraction of KVSWALLOW. Once that was complete they would deploy a new case officer who would then conduct his or her own evaluation and determine how to proceed. This made sense to me as it gave a better chance for eventual success than my hasty pitch. It also meant Billi would be developed and assessed by the person who would run her which was a big plus. I couldn’t fault the decision and it wouldn’t have mattered if I did. The client always got to set the mission objectives; we retained the right to determine how to achieve them. I wouldn’t bitch about their choice of solutions since they wouldn’t bitch about how I got them there. I’d need to travel to Macedonia to pick up the technical equipment and then arrange a meet with Aferdita. I’d give her the new information along with the tasking and set a time for extraction once the tasking was accomplished. It was looking like this mission could be completed fairly easily.
Shows what I know.
I packed up my case, leaving the M57 and spare magazine hidden in the bedroom, loaded my BMW and unlocked the gate. I called Aferdita and made arrangements to meet her at the safe house tomorrow night. She knew the general location and would find the street, I’d be waiting and open the gate for her. Using the safe house had some pros and some cons but since there was no indication that either she or I were under surveillance it made a good location out of the public eye and away from her normal haunts. I was now less concerned about keeping Naim separate from Aferdita since her time in place was limited. I would use him on the day to check her back trail on the long straight shot from Pristina to KP. Her red Cabriolet was distinctive enough that Naim could easily identify it and watch for additional followers after she passed. If he called it clear the meet would occur, if not, I’d advise Aferdita to cruise around and then go home. We’d attempt to identify the surveillance and if questioned she would claim to just be driving to clear her head. I completed the arrangements with both Naim and Aferdita, let them know I’d confirm tomorrow afternoon and headed out, locking the gate behind me.
Two and a half hours later I was in Skopje, staying in the Sheraton and set to meet a DIA guy from the Embassy at the nearby McDonalds that evening. I’d decided to stay overnight even if that created a slight blip if detected through a check at the Grand. I hoped the opposition wouldn’t check for a while if at all but when they did, if they were thorough, they’d figure out I was gone since my case and car would be missing. I was betting that the lack of surveillance meant that the most they would do is check with the bellhop to see if I was still registered and when that was confirmed they’d look for me around town or have the bellhops let them know when I showed up, assuming they cared enough at this point to check. I wasn’t going to use the room at the Grand anymore in any case so staying in Skopje made better sense than driving back through Kosovo in the dark. The roads and drivers combined to make that a risky endeavor and the chance of a crash was high enough to make avoiding it reasonable.
The meet at McDonalds went smoothly. I have never been in a cleaner McDonalds in my life and both of their restaurants in Skopje were spotless. My DIA contact didn’t want to chat or even acknowledge me. He simply sat down near me, ate his meal and then walked outside. I followed a few minutes later and in the dark of the side street outside I took a small backpack from the trunk of his Embassy issue sedan (yeah, great transport to a meet, huh) and then headed off into the night to see if his sloppy tradecraft had compromised me. An hour later I was sure I was clean. I returned to the Sheraton, spent a quiet night and returned to Pristina in the morning.
The day passed easily enough. I went over my arguments to obtain Aferdita’s acquiescence to DIA’s plan. I also rehearsed the training she’d need on the trackers and prepared the list of intelligence requirements we needed her to collect. I confirmed her route and timing for the meet and then did the same with Naim, adding the details of her vehicle so he’d be able to watch for anyone watching her. Once that was complete the rest of the day passed quickly as I read, ran through a bodyweight exercise routine and cleaned and rechecked the M57, gloves on and evidence avoided. At 2000 hours I received a call from Aferdita letting me know she was on her way. I alerted Naim who was already in position. A few minutes later he advised that the Cabriolet had passed his position and he was checking for surveillance. He gave the all clear as Aferdita reached the turn from Airport Road into the neighborhood where I waited. I pulled the gate partway open and waved her in as soon as she made the turn onto the street. Naim circled and noted no one following or parked up in the area. I thanked him and he headed off. Putting my phone away, I locked the gate and then turned to greet Aferdita who had stepped out of her car and was waiting for me.
“Hi Dita. How are you? Thanks for coming.”
“You are welcome. I am glad to be here,” She replied. She looked around and then glanced back at me with a combination of hesitation and what in a less self-confident person would be shyness. “Is this a safe place? Do you know the people who live here?”
“It is as safe as I can arrange. The people who live here are gone and no one will know we are here. Please, come inside. I have a lot to tell you.”
I stepped closer, extending one arm toward the house in invitation. Aferdita hesitated a second and then gave me a quick hug and turned without looking at me and headed toward the house. Um…ok.
Handling a source of the opposite sex can be tricky sometimes, especially if they see you as a lifeline. There is a tendency to fixate on you as an object rather than a person which is easy since the person they are dealing with is largely a carefully projected image designed to create the greatest amount of comfort for them as well as control for you. I could handle her attempting to draw me closer through her physical attractiveness, this wasn’t my first rodeo and I knew better than to fall for the idea that little old me was so irresistible. And since we were going to pull her out soon it wouldn’t hurt to have her feeling secure. It is also true that, everything else being equal, a hug and attention from a beautiful woman isn’t exactly a hardship. I gave a mental shrug and followed her to the door where she paused just long enough for me to open it and usher her inside.
Once inside we settled into the small living room and began to go over the many things on my list. First up was the decision to bring her out followed by the need for her to collect the intelligence we lacked on the personalities involved in the cooperation between the jihadis and the mafia. Finally, we needed her to emplace the trackers. Aferdita, as I had anticipated, wanted a more physical solution but after talking our way through it agreed that Luli would have preferred to see her happy and safe in the US and that we would be able to use the information she provided to make Enver’s life much worse. That would have to do and she was smart enough to realize it. We went over the installation of the trackers and I passed over the backpack in which they were stored after we practiced on both her car and my own. We took a short break for tea and then resumed with the list of intelligence requirements. Aferdita had an excellent mind, quick and incisive and her memory was equally sharp. She was able to repeat the list back within a short time and added several items she felt she would be able to obtain. These included information to which she had primary access such as phone numbers and email addresses used for communications between two different jihadist groups and Enver’s people. All of that would be useful and, as it would not create additional risk to collect, I approved her additions.
The business being completed we drifted into a conversation about life in the US and the opportunities she would have there. I say drifted but it was a calculated move on my part as I wanted her to feel positive about her future rather than that she was settling for something less than the revenge she sought. I kept the tone light and avoided personal information, something made a bit more difficult as she showed a subtle but definite interest. I let it ride, not discouraging or encouraging her, as that kept the handling options open. Fortunately she was intelligent and able to interpret my reserve as a professional issue rather than a personal one. It’s usually a good idea to have an entire backstory you can use over time with a source as the exchange of personal details builds bonds in human interactions. The trick is to not reveal anything which can ever be used against the handler should the source be turned, captured or otherwise reveal the details provided. I make minor changes as needed for each situation but keep to the same basic scenario which makes keeping things straight much easier. It’s very important to not get tripped up and keeping close to the truth while changing key details is often the solution.
Our conversation wound down to a natural end and I reviewed the tasking with her one more time. Aferdita had it down cold and I made sure she knew I was both pleased and impressed. She was happy at the praise, implied though it was. Subtle is better with smart people, dumb ones require more grease. We walked to the driveway where I checked the street outside through a small sliding window set in the gate. It was dark, illuminated by the single street light mounted at the corner thirty or so feet away across and down the street. I turned to Aferdita and accepted her hug and quick goodbye. She slid into the Cabriolet and started the engine as I opened the gate. A moment later she had backed out and was pulling away.
As she did, a dark older model Toyota Four Runner came down the street from the opposite direction. Its headlights played across her as she turned and then fell on me as I drew back and began to shut the gate. I watched through the closing gap as the Toyota drove by, just routine checking of the passenger and driver for any signs of interest. My adrenaline surged as I looked straight into the eyes of Rat Face in the passenger seat of the vehicle. His eyes went wide in recognition and he twisted to keep me in view as the Four Runner continued down the street. The driver was another young guy I didn’t recognize. I waited, watching them continue at a normal pace down the street. They turned deeper into the neighborhood after a minute and I shut the gate and leaned against the wall, my heart racing.
Fuck and Double Fuck. The defecation had just struck the oscillation big style.
I was pretty sure they hadn’t noticed Aferdita although her vehicle was in view and easily recognizable. It looked like the kind of incidental compromise I’d been watching for and trying to avoid. Rat Face and his buddy appeared to be just making their way to somewhere unrelated to me when surprise… there I was. If he thought about it and remembered seeing Aferdita’s Cabriolet just before seeing me, she was dead. Not quickly or pleasantly but certainly. The problem was that I didn’t know if he had made the connection or had even seen her. His reaction had been genuine; he hadn’t been expecting to see me. However he was sure to report seeing me here and that would make me a whole lot more interesting as there were few reasons why I’d be here shutting a gate late at night. It could be that I was shacking up with a local chick, staying with friends or some other innocent explanation but it was certain to raise my profile again with the mafia. I’d need to do several things very quickly, the first being warn Aferdita.
I dialed her number and reached her after two tries.
“Aferdita. Listen carefully. As you left two guys who I believe work for Enver drove by. I don’t think they saw you but can’t be sure. They did see me and recognized me. I am pretty sure they were not looking for us. They acted like they were just driving by and were surprised. Can you be ready to go this evening?”
I was unable to determine if Rat Face had recognized Aferdita or her vehicle and if that would constitute compromise. I also didn’t know if he’d communicated that info to his bosses but had to assume the worst. Doing otherwise would mean taking an unacceptable risk with my source. There is always a natural tension between the risk inherent in human sources and the need to protect them as much as possible. Aside from the moral issues of failing to protect someone who is putting themselves at risk at the handler’s direction, there is the practical aspect where recruiting sources will be much more difficult if it is known that a nationality/agency etc. doesn’t care what happens to a source. False flags can only take one so far. A good reputation is essential. While there are some times when a handler or agency will indeed burn a source, they are rare and generally due to duplicity on the source’s part. In a case like this, the best option was to pull her out of the danger area, keep her safe and see what we could learn before deciding to send her in or abort. I didn’t see the point in taking the chance with her life that attempting to complete the collection and emplacement plan would require. It was simply too high risk given the unknowns. Aferdita didn’t see it that way.
“I can but you said they didn’t see me. I can do what I have to and then contact you. It will take a day or maybe two but I will do it. I cannot go without taking some revenge for Luli. Please, you must understand. I have to do this if I am to live with myself.”
I argued to no avail. Her mind was set and she would not relent. She saw the risk and accepted it but would not be dissuaded from her decision. It was something she had fixated on, the opportunity to in a small way pay Enver and his men back for the wrongs they had done her. I could understand it and the need she intuitively sensed to have some form of closure in order to settle into a new life without the nagging sense of unfulfilled obligation darkening her soul. Still, the risk was appalling. I lacked the means to provide an overwatch as the bad guys would most certainly be looking for me now and any sighting of me nearby w
ould ring alarm bells. If she wasn’t compromised already my being seen in any location near her would rectify that.
I finally settled for insisting that she agree to use the emergency comms plan we had set up during our second meeting. This involved me sending a text asking if she was free to meet for coffee. If she was all right, she would respond that I had the wrong number. Any other response was indicative of duress. I had stressed the need to regularly delete the message cache on her phone which prevented casual examination from seeing several such messages to a number from which she had also accepted calls. Using texts avoided the issue of someone hearing my voice and gave her some additional flexibility. It wasn’t perfect but it worked surprisingly well in most cases. She agreed to emergency comms, repeated the directions to demonstrate that she understood them and then said goodbye.
I looked at the phone for several minutes, hoping that I had not just had my last conversation with her. I’d lost people before and probably would again but I really didn’t want to see this woman suffer for no reason other than that some men are animals.
Rabid animals. The kind that need killing.
I made a promise to myself that if something bad happened to Aferdita then Enver and crew would have a non-survivable event in their near future. I wasn’t sure how I’d do it and I hoped I wouldn’t have to but I was damned if I’d walk away from innocents being fucked over and do nothing because policy demanded it. I’d done so before, it is the nature of the job sometimes but in this case I was willing to go off the reservation.
Thinking these happy thoughts I headed upstairs to repack, relocate and prepare for the shit storm I could see on the horizon.