by Alex Ander
Fixing Romana with a steely glare, Mika barely shook her head. Romana had had enough of the petting and was losing her patience. If she did that, the mission would be over before it began. Fortunately, for the sake of the assignment, and the physical well-being of the man touching Romana, he never put his hands on her private parts.
Satisfied the women had no weapons on them, the men escorted Mika and Romana to the car out front. After opening the back doors for the women, the men climbed into the front seats. Seconds later, the black vehicle drove away.
Chapter 26: GPS
Hardy and Natasha sat in a black SUV, watching Mika and Romana get into the dark vehicle parked in front of the brick structure, one hundred yards away. He glanced at the laptop in front of him, verifying he was getting a strong signal from the cell phones of Mika and Romana. He nodded to Natasha, who was behind the wheel.
She touched her ear. “Vse komandy Standy i byt' gotovymi vyyti na moyey komande – All teams standby and be prepared to move out on my command.” When the details of Hardy’s plan had been finalized, she had requisitioned two, three-person FSB assault teams, and had them bring additional specialized equipment. The teams were stationed further down the road and hidden from view.
Since Popovich had been calling for a prostitute to be brought to him, Hardy decided to take advantage of it. His plan was to sneak Mika and Romana, posing as prostitutes, into Popovich’s house. Hardy had the Madame make contact with the man who had been calling for a girl to be brought to him, presumably Popovich, telling him she had a special surprise, hoping that would pique his curiosity. Using the GPS signal in the phones of Mika and Romana, Hardy and the FSB teams would follow the women, but remain out of sight. Once Mika and Romana were at the location, they were to get a positive identification on Popovich, and send a text message that contained the layout of the house as well as the number of hostiles and their location inside. Armed with that information, Hardy, Natasha and the FSB teams would raid the house and capture Popovich.
Thirty seconds passed, while Hardy stared at the laptop. His eyebrows furled downward. “Their cell phone signals are not moving. They must have had to leave them behind.” He switched to a different window on the laptop.
“It’s okay. We planned for this.” Natasha made a circular motion with her hand. “Jump to the other screen and find them.” She was referring to the tiny GPS tracking chips Hardy requested to be included in the additional equipment the FSB teams had brought. A chip was sewn into the women’s underwear and the only way it was going to be separated from either agent was over her dead body.
“I’ve got them.” Hardy had two GPS signatures. “Go, go, go,” he jabbed a finger at the windshield, “P-120 east.”
She started the engine, put the transmission in ‘drive’ and stepped on the accelerator. The tires lost traction with the pavement and squealed before gripping the hard surface and propelling the SUV forward. “Vse komandy s"yekhat' i upast' za mnoy – All teams move out and fall in behind me.”
“We’re about a mile behind them.” Hardy’s eyes were glued to the screen. “Maintain your speed.” The vehicle followed a slight bend in the road and Hardy saw two sets of headlights reflected in his side mirror. The FSB teams had caught up, and were now behind them, trailing by a couple of car lengths. Turning his eyes back to the laptop, Hardy saw the two GPS dots change direction. “They took a right at E101…M3. They’re heading south.”
One mile later, Natasha made a hand-over-hand right turn and navigated the SUV onto M3. The FSB teams followed. “How far ahead are they?” She had been uncomfortable with leaving a mile between them and the rest of her team.
“Step on it. They’re accelerating.”
Natasha pressed her foot down and the SUV groaned and rocked backward before lunging forward. “Tell me when we’ve closed the distance to three-quarters of a mile.”
“That’s too close.”
“Just tell me,” she shot back.
Hardy calculated the distance between them and the GPS dots. “All right, slow down.”
Hardy and Natasha sat in silence for almost an hour before the GPS dots changed direction. “They turned right.” He shifted in the seat. “They’re now going west…I’m not sure what road they took. It’s not marked on the map. We’ll be coming up on it in twenty seconds.”
“Vse komandy, bud'te gotovy, chtoby zamedlit' i povernut' napravo cherez dvadtsat' sekund – All teams, be prepared to slow and turn right in twenty seconds.”
“Slow down.” Hardy switched his gaze back and forth from the laptop to the landscape on his side of the SUV. A non-descript dirt road appeared in the middle of a stand of trees and he blurted, “Here!”
Natasha jammed her foot down on the brake pedal and cranked the steering wheel hard to the right. The last vehicle almost rear-ended the second one. Straightening the wheel, Natasha slammed her foot down on the accelerator. Once again, the tires spun and threw loose dirt and gravel before gaining traction.
Less than a mile later, Hardy held up his hand. “Slow down, they’ve stopped up ahead.” He closed the laptop to get a better view out his window. They drove by another stand of trees. Approaching the end of the tree line, he curled his fingers around the door handle. “Stop here and kill the lights.”
Natasha ordered the FSB teams to shut off their headlights and stop. Hardy grabbed a pair of binoculars, exited the vehicle and slipped away. He left the dirt road and disappeared into the trees and the darkness beyond.
Chapter: 27: Confirmation
“I’m telling you, Mika, if he smacks my…” Romana’s voice trailed off, while she shook her head back and forth. Stacking her clenched fists as if she was holding a baseball bat, she twisted them. “…one more time…I’m going to snap his neck.”
Arriving at the house, the two women were ushered to an upstairs bedroom where Popovich was waiting. They had seen him once before. He had been dressed in his military uniform and did not look that bad; however, standing before them, wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a dirty muscle shirt, he looked every bit as disgusting as Marta had described. Before they excused themselves, under the pretense of having to freshen up, Popovich had spanked Romana on the butt, twice. The second time had been so hard she took a couple steps forward and went to her tiptoes before walking into the second floor bathroom.
Mika finished writing on the bathroom window with a tube of lipstick, adjusted the window curtains and tossed the lipstick into her purse. Standing behind Romana, Mika pinched the zipper of Romana’s dress and ran it down as far as it would go. Romana pushed the straps over her shoulders and let the garment fall to the floor. Both women wore only a bra, panties and high-heeled shoes.
“Keep it together, Romana.” Mika hoped her demeanor would calm her teammate. “We need to stay sharp and focused, especially since Natasha and Hardy are going to be entering the house virtually blind.” She jerked a thumb toward the window. “That’s only going to do so much.” Using specially designed lipstick that glowed in the dark, she had written, in code, that they had visual confirmation of Popovich, their location and an approximate number of men inside the house.
Romana saw her reflection in the mirror. “Yeah, remind me to give him hell when this is over. I looked like a hooker before. Now, I look…”
Mika put her hands on her partner’s shoulders. “We only need to avoid him for fifteen minutes.” She smiled at Romana’s image. “Just pretend like you’re playing ‘hard to get.’ Remember that man back at the Academy, the one who thought he was a Greek god when it came to women?”
Romana smirked. He was a real jackass.
“Yeah, just like that.” Mika wiped the smile from her face. “No matter what happens in there, we wait for the assaulters, got it?”
Romana nodded.
“All right, then—it’s show time.”
They walked into the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the door, Popovich jumped up and rushed them, his hands all over their bodies, g
iving equal attention to each woman. He tried to kiss Mika, who retreated, while slowly and playfully wagging her finger.
“Net tselovalis' – No kissing.” She sauntered toward the bed, making sure she had his full attention.
Popovich twisted his head back and forth, unable to decide which woman he wanted first. He abandoned Romana.
Before Mika knew what had happened, Popovich had slipped his hand under the back of her panties, his hand coming out way above the top of the waistband. She felt her body floating before the two of them came down on the bed, Popovich landing on top of her. The mattress sagged three times. With each bounce, the slob’s sweaty body pressed against her chest and stomach. Smelling body odor, she fought to suppress her gag reflex. She recalled her pep talk to Romana. Keep it together, Mik’s.
Chapter 28: Move Out
Two stands of trees ran along the north and west edges of the property, joining at the northwest corner. Several yards beyond the tree line, down on one knee, Hardy and Natasha peered through their binoculars, scanning the property and the buildings. Natasha whispered, “Snayperskiye komandy odin i dva, otchet – Snipers one and two, report.” After getting their reports, she translated for Hardy. “One of the snipers spotted writing on an upstairs window. Mika and Romana are with Popovich in an upstairs bedroom. There are five confirmed targets, including Popovich.”
“We should expect more.”
She pivoted away from him and whirled back. “We’ve been cleared to move out.”
Hardy lowered his head and touched his forehead, chest, left and right shoulders with the fingertips of his right hand.
Natasha recognized the sign of the cross, a Catholic gesture. “I didn’t think you were the religious type.”
Hardy shrugged. He had seen Special Agent Cruz make the gesture several times, but had no idea what it meant. “I see Cruz do it all the time. I figure it can’t hurt to ask for a little help on this.”
In his spare time, Hardy had been doing research on God, specifically Catholicism and the Catholic Church. Since Cruz was Catholic, he wanted to become more familiar with some of her beliefs. The more he researched the faith, the more he was intrigued with its heritage and long-standing traditions, dating back to Jesus Christ. He came across a passage in the bible in the second book of Timothy that had a reference to being ‘a good soldier of Christ.’ The passage had gotten his attention, but he was not able to read any further. He had made a mental note to re-visit it as soon as he had the time.
Natasha had stationed one sniper in the woods at the northeast corner of the property and one in the woods to the west. From those positions, a good majority of the property could be seen. There were several areas the snipers could not provide cover for Hardy and Natasha; they would have to move cautiously. An FSB team of four men was standing by on the road waiting for the signal to storm the front door. Hardy wanted to make sure Mika and Romana were safe before the team advanced and secured the structures on the property. Not having the advantage of knowing the layout of the house and the enemy contingent, this had to be a covert operation. He did not want to risk Popovich or one of his men getting spooked and putting bullets into the two women.
His face black and dressed in black tactical gear, Hardy emerged from the woods carrying a silenced MP5 rifle, chambered in nine millimeter. In a low crouch, he ran as fast as he could toward the grain silo. He hoped there were no dogs. He had not seen any, but if they were there, then they would sense his arrival. He pressed his back against the silo. Searching the immediate area and making sure there were no sentries anywhere, he signaled Natasha.
She stepped out of the woods, dressed similar to Hardy—black clothing, silenced MP5; it was not her preferred weapon, but she knew how to operate it. Her long hair was tied in a ponytail and tucked under a black tight-fitting knit cap, much like one a burglar would wear. Her face was painted black. Drawing up alongside him, she gulped in breaths of air, wincing in pain. Until now, she had not thought about her back pain. An image of Agent Fuller flashed before her eyes. Idiot.
The night was cold and the sky was overcast. There was no moonlight. Hardy could not see her facial expression, but he had heard the grunt. “Are you okay? Are you sure, you’re up to this? Once we get there, there’s no turning back.”
“I’m fine.” Nothing would keep her from seeing to the safety of her team and capturing Popovich. She nudged him. “Keep going.”
They moved slowly around the radius of the building, Hardy in the lead, until they could go no further without being seen. Natasha contacted sniper two in the woods to the west. She was cleared to continue. Hailing sniper one for a report, she was told to stay put. A guard was coming around on the other side of the silo toward their position. A few seconds later, Natasha gave Hardy the ‘all clear’ sign and they ran to the northwest corner of the garage. Had they had the luxury to look behind them, they would have seen the body of the guard sniper one had shot, sprawled on the ground against the silo.
Hardy and Natasha crept along the west side of the garage, ducking under a window. Her earpiece crackled and she grabbed Hardy’s arm. She relayed the message, but he understood the report from sniper one, without her translation. He nodded his head before hurrying to the southwest corner of the garage, slinging his rifle and removing his Ka-Bar Fighting/Utility knife from its sheath. Even though he carried his Cold Steel Recon 1 tactical knife on a daily basis, for missions like this, he preferred the Ka-Bar. The Ka-Bar was adopted by the United States Marine Corps during World War II, first seeing action in November 1942. Many considered it the best fixed-blade fighting knife available.
The guard rounded the southwest corner of the garage. He yawned, oblivious to anyone else’s presence. The tip of the seven-inch blade pierced his throat, stopping when the stacked leather washer hilt slammed against the soft fleshy part beneath his chin. Even if he had seen the attack coming, his severed vocal cords rendered his ability for speech, null. He was dead before his body went limp in his attacker’s arms, never feeling the blade puncture his chest several times, while he was lowered to the ground.
Hardy dragged the body further north and laid it close to the garage wall. He wiped his knife on the deceased guard’s clothing before sliding it back into its sheath. Moving to the southwest corner of the garage, Hardy indicated to Natasha that he wanted an update from the sniper teams. When she gave him the ‘thumbs up’ sign, he ran toward the back of the house.
Halfway there, he activated a motion-sensing light that had been hidden underneath the eaves. Illuminated by the light, he had no choice but to run as fast as he could to the west side of the house and the darkness beyond the corner. With his eyes adjusted to the black of night, the light obscured his vision. Approaching the house, he did not see the guard come around the southwest corner of the house.
His back to the west wall, Hardy waited for his vision to return to normal. Hearing a noise to his left, he pivoted and shouldered his weapon. A lone figure slid down the wall and came to rest in a heap. He advanced along the west side of the house. The back half of the man’s head was missing, but there was plenty of it splattered on the siding. “Spasibo – Thank you,” Hardy whispered.
“Pozhaluysta – You’re welcome,” said sniper two.
Hardy backtracked and stood at the northwest corner. He asked sniper two for help with the motion-sensing light and waited for the man to get into position. Less than a minute later, the light went dark. Sniper two had brought two silenced weapons. The second was a long-range, twenty-two caliber bolt-action rifle. It was virtually impossible to hear the gun’s rapport. Unless someone was looking at the light when it was struck, anyone would think the light bulb had burned out.
Natasha got the report that no guards were in the area and ran to meet Hardy. She had no time to catch her breath. Hardy signaled and they ran to the back door. They were fast approaching, if not already beyond, the fifteen-minute mark of when Mika and Romana would be expecting them to access the house. The teams
had taken longer to get into position. The guard at the garage, and the incident with the motion-sensing light had delayed them further. She had to get to her teammates before they were compelled to use deadly force on Popovich, putting their lives at risk.
Kneeling, Hardy retrieved a small camera on a flexible wand. Natasha squatted and pushed her back against him, providing cover, while he snaked the wand under the door and watched the small screen.
Thirty seconds later, he pulled out the wand out and produced a lock pick gun. Inserting it into the handle, he unlocked the door in seconds. Stowing the gear, he reached behind him and patted Natasha’s hip. She pivoted and readied her MP5. Raising his rifle, he held up three fingers, two fingers and one finger before pointing at her. She quietly pushed the door and Hardy entered, Natasha a step behind.
Chapter 29: Strip Tease
Mika and Romana had managed to dodge Popovich’s advances and keep their skimpy clothing on; however, Mika could see the man was frustrated and wanted the merchandise he was promised. If his temper was anything like Marta had described, the situation was going to deteriorate, rapidly. If he struck Romana, Mika would be powerless to quell her teammate’s anger. They had been in the house for more than fifteen minutes. Where the hell are they? She decided to buy them a few more minutes.
Mika sauntered to the foot of the bed, where she danced in place like a stripper in a men’s club. She had the pig’s attention. Her plan was to give him a strip tease, hoping not to have to take anything off, however. After a few minutes and no Natasha or Hardy, she reached around behind her and unhooked her bra. She danced around a little more, while slowly sliding one of the straps over her shoulder, followed by the second strap, a minute later. Covering her bare breasts with the unfastened bra in her hands, she whipped her head toward the sound of gunfire. Seconds later, the guard posted outside the bedroom—he had been watching the show through the gap between the door and the doorframe—rushed into the room.
