The Bear

by Bob Thomas

  “Aye sir.” Tull turned to issue the order. “Conn, make your heading zero two zero.” Tull looked at the sounding below the hull. It was deeper here than anywhere they had been coming through the Belt. “Make your depth one hundred feet. All ahead one-third. Let’s not hit anything on the bottom if we don’t have to.”

  “New heading zero two zero, dive planes down five degrees, come to depth one hundred feet, conn aye.”

  Dawson nodded, giving Tull a quick ‘thumbs up’. His young XO had the boat for another two hours. He would take the conn at the headwaters of the gulf. He turned and headed back out the opening. Time for something to eat.

  Day Eighteen

  Moscow

  Two days passed, the time dragging as the mission team had little to occupy their time outside of the farm. With only one device that could track the cell number, there wasn’t much for them to do. Ivan sat on a dingy couch in a safe house, flipping cards towards a bowl. He sighed as he missed for the sixth consecutive time.

  “You just gonna sit there and do that all night?” Commander Jen ‘Polina’ Lewis asked. She looked around the room. It was as spartan as any she could remember. “God I wish I had something to do.”

  “Why don’t we go out and just check out the neighborhood?”

  “We have our orders, Anya.”

  “Our orders didn’t include dying from boredom.”

  “It’s part of what happens in covert situations,” Donald replied as he entered the room. “I’m not immune to your situation. I’ve spent many a night just sitting, doing nothing. It’s also not good for the body. I don’t know how long it will be before we get another hit from the cell, so all of you need to get out for a bit.”

  “Where to?”

  “Since Sasha and I have been hanging around the bar locale, we thought it might be a good idea to get your eyes on it too.”

  “Why,” Anya asked.

  “We’ll get to know the area better, the buildings, the setting.”

  “That’s a lot to ask in just a couple hours.”

  “True, but it’s better than just sitting here letting your mind vegetate.”

  “I’m up for it,” Ivan exclaimed.

  “That’s cause you suck as throwing cards,” Polina smirked.

  “Let’s get to it then.” Donald turned, but stopped short of walking out of the room. “I want everyone to get their gear and strap it on.”

  “Why? What good will that do?” Sasha seemed genuinely puzzled. “I didn’t agree to that.”

  “You didn’t, but it will do them good to feel what it’s like to walk around with concealed weapons. If you’re not used to it, it doesn’t feel natural. You need to be able to walk down the street, to sit in a restaurant like nothing is wrong.”

  “And if someone drops a gun?”

  “It happens all the time in Russia,” Donald chuckled. “The majority of people wouldn’t think anything of it.”

  “Let’s go then. Everyone get loaded up.” Sasha looked at his team as they stood in the center of the safe house. “Let’s just call it a dry run.”

  “Mission practice,” Ivan yelled. “Let’s suit up everybody.”

  “Man, back home I’d call this place a dump.”

  “Careful about back home references, Ivan.” Polina rolled the glass of dark ale in her hands, letting its base slide around the counter. She looked behind the bar as she lifted the glass to her lips. She sipped slowly, not allowing the taste to show on her face. It really wasn’t her drink of choice, but she couldn’t let strong alcohol go to her head. She wasn’t a good drunk.

  “They really think this is a fun joint? Tell me you think this place is hopping?” Ivan looked around at the small crowd. Perhaps it was just an off night. “I wonder if there are better nights to come here? This place is kinda boring.”

  “I’m not a good judge of most places. Remember,” she smiled, “I grew up in a small town with nothing else to compare things too.”

  “Not much where I came from either, but they were better than this.” Ivan spun on the seat, propping his elbows on the bar behind. He felt the small assault rifle hidden beneath his coat shift. It was everything he could do not to reach down and grab it. He took notice of Donald, Anya and Sasha sitting at a table in the corner. They didn’t look too thrilled either. “Wonder what they think about this place?”

  “Probably discussing the mission,” Polina replied. “I don’t see smiles on their faces.

  Ivan watched as Donald placed his hand against his chest. He reached in, pulling a small object from his pocket. He looked down with a raised brow and turned the device toward Sasha. Donald motioned toward Ivan. The young lieutenant sat upright on the stool as he looked through the smoky haze. He nudged Polina with his elbow. Ivan raised his hand as if he were greeting a friend he hadn’t seen in some time from across the room. He was at the table seconds later.

  “Nice to see you again, my friend,” Ivan said as he slid in next to Donald. They shook hands with smiles plastered across their faces.

  “Seems we just got lucky.”

  “How so?”

  “The number we have been waiting for just showed up again.”

  “That’s great, but how do we trace it?” Ivan watched as Donald slipped the device back into his pocket. “Unless there’s something you haven’t told us about that box yet.”

  “Maybe we just get lucky.” Donald trained his eye on a group sitting across the club in a darkened corner. To the younger crowd, they seemed out of place; not that he and his group were any different. He probably looked like an old man to most of these kids. A sure sign he was losing touch with yet another generation. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number the device had shown. It rang for just two rings before someone answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Well I’ll be.” Donald’s eyes narrowed and he shut his phone down immediately as he stared across the room.

  “What?” Sasha was quickly interested as the agent slid his phone from sight and turned away.

  “I know who answered.”

  “How the hell,” Ivan blurted out loudly before lowering his voice. “How the hell do you know that?”

  “I just saw the guy over there answer his phone.”

  “It could just be a coincidence.”

  “I don’t think so, Sasha. I heard the same music. The timing was too perfect.”

  “What the hell are the odds of that happening? We simply call and just happen to see the one person we wanted to answer the call, answer the call.”

  “In this business, Sasha, stranger things have happened.” Donald propped his elbow up on the table and looked away. “Do you have a camera on your phone?”

  “I didn’t bring a phone.”

  “Damn. Here. Take a picture of Anya and me but point it across the room and try and get a picture of that table.

  Sasha nodded as Donald slid to the other side of the table. They made a show of getting together as Sasha snapped several photos. As he handed it back to Donald a new crowd pushed through the door. It seemed a mix of young girls ready to hit the town hard and a group of young men who drifted immediately over to the table they were watching.

  “Maybe we better get out of here,” Donald said. “We have our target.”

  “But we could finish this now.”

  “Not in the middle of a crowded club, Ivan. We pick our time. Let’s go.”

  Ivan made his way back to the bar and sat down next to Polina as the others made a quiet exit. They finished their drinks and tossed their money on the bar. Ivan slipped his arm around Polina as they made their way to the door. They looked like a couple; nothing out of the ordinary.

  Winter once again reached from its lair above the Arctic Circle and dragged its frigid claw across the heart of Russia’s largest city. The safe house was just a few miles from the club, but unlike the renaissance the district was undergoing, the housing around it was still drab and porous. What heat the furnaces generated quic
kly evaporated through the uninsulated walls. Ivan and Polina sat huddled together on the couch, a blanket wrapped around themselves. The others sat casually around the room trying to ward off the cold as they made plans for the final part of their mission. Plans still had to be made.

  “So we know who, at least we think. But we don’t know where.”

  “We might, Danil.” Donald paced as he began to reason out a solution. “We just need to verify a few things.”

  “Like what?” Ivan asked as his teeth chattered away. “Like how the hell do we get heat in this place?”

  “We just need to see if my hunch is right.” Donald ignored Ivan’s remark. “We need to see if our target frequents that place regularly. My guess is, if he does and his friends are there as well, that might actually be their base of operations.”

  “And how the hell do we do that?”

  “To put it in your words Anya, recon.”

  The next three days the mission team was reduced to recon activities. They split up and visited the club and nearby buildings several times during the day and night. Pinning down the correct place would make all the difference. They didn’t want to have an open gun fight in public. For all intents and purposes, it was a ‘hit’. Ivan and Polina toured as a couple. They were the youngest of the five and seemed to fit nicely together and the outside world would view them as such. Donald sometimes went alone as did Sasha, although Anya would join them and they would arrive together. The snap of cold weather also seemed to help narrow the field of possibilities since it limited the range of most people in the city. No one wanted to venture further than they needed to. It was just too cold.

  On the fourth day, the skies above Moscow brightened and a virtual heat wave of not freezing blew into the city. It was what they were looking for. They had narrowed their choice to two buildings, the upper floors of the club and a small warehouse situated behind that building separated by a narrow service alley.

  “They might even use both buildings for their operation.” Danil looked around the dingy safe house, wishing his time in this god-awful place would come to an end. At least it was a bit warmer.

  “That’s true, Danil,” Donald replied. “It would make sense. One for a public showing and another building for stashing whatever goods they deem profitable at the time. Typical mafia scams.”

  “So now what do we do?”

  “Now Sasha, we get ready to go. We get ready to take them out.”

  “But we still don’t know the layouts of the two buildings other than what we’ve seen in the club.”

  “True, but I’m sure in your world as in mine, you never really know all the aspects of what you’re up against. At some point, we just have to rely on ourselves to make the best decisions we can.”

  “So, what do we know about this guy? Who is he?”

  “His name is Boris Vetrov,” Donald replied. “I’ve been doing a little digging on him the last day or so, trying to find a few things out. He started out about ten years ago as a small-time hit man for the local mafia. He was a real bad-ass and slowly moved up the ranks. Then, a couple years ago, he made a big play. He knocked off the second in command of a certain family and was able to point the finger at someone else. He took advantage of that by killing the person he blamed. He quickly became the voice to listen to. He has power and is aggressive. He isn’t afraid of anyone or anything.”

  “And that’s his downfall,” Ivan blurted out.

  “Not necessarily, Ivan. Remember those other four guys sitting at the table with him? They’re his infantry, and they don’t back down. Not from the Russian police, not from other gangs. He’s sitting pretty in this section of the city. And he’s got money rolling in. That means he can bribe whoever he needs to look the other way. Although it’s changing, Russia is still a wide open place to make a buck, or lots of them.”

  “Let’s see what we’ve got,” Sasha answered.

  The rest of the night was spent going over various contingencies, attacks and escape plans. Once the mission was completed, they would split up and go their separate ways to leave the country. Ivan and Polina would leave as a couple, as would Sasha and Anya. Danil would trail Sasha and Anya discreetly, pretending not to be with them in any way. With passports and papers they would travel west and make their escape into Europe. And no one would ever know they were there. Tomorrow night, after the club closed, the mission was a go.

  Day Twenty-two

  The White House

  President Edwin Kiger stood looking out over the lawn of the White House from the Oval Office. He watched as crowds passed by on the streets outside the fenced grounds. One small group had a sign about the actions in the Ukraine. How fitting he thought. The door to the official office of the President of the United States opened and his chief of staff walked in accompanied by the Director of the CIA.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen.”

  “Good afternoon, Mr. President,” they said in unison.

  “Please, have a seat,” the president said as he extended his arm toward the chairs before the famous desk. “I think you can guess as to why I’ve asked you both here.”

  “I can hazard a guess,” Stephen replied.

  “Do we have any word on what is happening with our team in Russia?”

  “So far, we have heard nothing, sir. I can only think that is a positive sign.”

  “I don’t know that I would totally agree with that, Stephen.” President Kiger pulled out his chair and sat down behind his desk. “I don’t always believe that no news is good news. Surely there has to be something, something someone has picked up.”

  “Not at this time, sir.” The director looked toward the president’s chief of staff before turning his attention back to the president. “I think if anything had been uncovered in a negative way, we would have heard something back-channel by now.”

  “And if it went off without a hitch?” Martin asked.

  “Then likely hearing nothing is a positive sign. That would mean the mission was a success and everyone is on their way back without discovery.”

  POTUS sat back in his chair and crossed his arms as he sighed. He was hoping for better news, hoping for some news, any news. There just wasn’t going to be any today.

  “And we have recovery assets in place?”

  “As close as we are able. Ground support is impossible.”

  “I understand. Thank you. Keep me posted. I want to hear the minute you get any, and I mean any intel on this.”

  “Yes Mr. President,” they replied in unison once again.

  Day Twenty-three

  Moscow

  The sun melted into the western sky, its remnant nothing more than an orange glow blistered across the darkening heavens. Night would settle in over the Russian capital within the hour. He lifted the glass to his lips as the clear liquid filled his mouth. He felt its soft burn against his tongue. It warmed him; something he needed in the midst of this drafty safe house. But he knew it wouldn’t be much longer and this situation would be over. He swirled the drink around the glass before draining it completely. Tonight would end it all.

  The crowd continued to build as the evening wore on. It seemed that a Friday night was just like a Friday night anywhere else in the world. For the first time, the place they had watched for days seemed to have a life all its own. Western music filled the club as the dance floor began to come to life and the liquor began to flow. Ivan and Polina watched from a corner booth as youth overtook common sense in the world of the young.

  “They sure know how to party.” Polina rolled her glass around on its base. She had a habit of doing that, Ivan noticed.

  “You don’t drink much, do you?”

  “Not all that much, Ivan. I put that behind me a long time ago. Too many hangovers, too many issues.”

  “I hear you.” Ivan extended his legs beneath the table. His face cramped at the effort, just like the muscles in his thighs. “Why can’t they make things for tall people?”

  “There�
��s tall,” Polina said as she looked up to Ivan and smiled, “and then there’s you.”

  “Funny.” Ivan smiled back. He felt comfortable with her. “We need to try and blend in a bit more.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  Ivan winked as he grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the booth as he stood up.

  “No way in hell, stretch.”

  But Polina was no match for his strength. One step backward and she was up on her feet. He stooped, bending at the knees as he pulled her toward him. He began to sway, the music moving him from side to side. She thought he looked like a scarecrow flailing in the wind. He smiled again as he pulled her forward. She rolled her eyes as her feet made the edges of the dance floor, and her hips caught the sway of the music.

  “Damn you, I love this song.”

  The music slowed and Ivan pulled her close. He could feel the shape of her handgun in the small of her back as his hand closed about her waist. She put her hand up to his chest to keep him slightly away. But just slightly.

  “Don’t get any ideas.”

  “I’m just trying to blend in, remember?”

  They stayed on the floor for another song before the booth, and their mission called them back. Another hour passed and more young Moskovites packed the club. They could tell it would be a long night. At least it felt good to be out and around people. Ivan looked up as another couple, this one a bit older closed the door behind them. Anya and Sasha slid along the wall and up to the bar. Sasha fluffed his coat as he straddled the stool. He could feel his own weapon push against his leg. He nodded as Anya ordered their drinks.

  Danil slipped into the club, unnoticed by the others. He bellied up to the end of the bar, standing next to Sasha. His eyes found their targets, sitting in the same corner in the same booth they had for the past several days. The only difference was they had smirks and smiles plastered across their faces as more and more young women rolled into the club, because those women were followed by young men and both loved to drink. The take would be a good one tonight.