by Mike Gomes
Pushing around the corner Gabriella’s feet hit the ground, letting out sound that she had worked so hard to cover up previously. With the revving of the jigsaw, the big man did not look back until the woman was upon him.
Jumping high on his back, the multi-stringed cord roped around the front of his head just below his chin. With her hands still holding hard to the short wooden grips Gabriella leaned back, pulling the strings tight across his neck.
Snapping hard with her hips and shoulders backwards, Gabriella fell off the back of the man and onto the floor. The wires were razor sharp, and sliced through the skin and bone much like an egg slicer will do to a boiled egg. Strips of his neck flopped to the floor and his body crumbled, as his now decapitated head had fallen into Otto’s lap.
“Oh shit!” barked Otto, turning his eyes away and moving his hips until the head fell to the floor with a clunk.
Pulling herself back up to her feet, Gabriella stuffed the weapon back into her pocket. “Hello, Otto. We came to save you.”
“What do you mean, we?” Otto asked looking around the room. Gabriela turned the light to the side of the room, and Otto got his first look at the full area he had been kept in.
Moving out of the darkness, Claudia moved up to Otto with a smile. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
Turning his head and looking at Gabriella, Otto had a look of confusion fall over his face. “You brought your grandmother?”
“Watch it, kid,” Claudia said with a smile. “Let’s get you to a safe house.”
“How are we going to get out of here?”
“A service exit at the back of the building. Mostly used for prisoner transports,” Claudia told him. “Nothing to worry about, no guard on duty for the weekend. We can just walk out.”
Chapter Seventeen
Knock knock knock.
“Come in,” said the elderly man sitting behind the desk. His hand held a slight tremble as he lifted the papers and arranged them into one stack, tapping them against the top of the desk. Placing them to the side, the door moved open quickly and a young soldier burst into the room.
“Sir, she's back," the young man said with a quivering voice.
"She's back?" the older man asked. "You need to be more specific. There's been a lot of women in my life."
Giving a slight snicker to his own joke, the older man leaned back in the chair and straightened the front of his military uniform. With glasses in his front pocket for reading, he was a long way from the young man he used to be that lead one of the most secret operations in the history of the Russian military.
"The she... The she is Gabriella." This caused the old man to lift his eyes up and look at the young soldier. "She helped a prisoner escape. They got her on film a few times and ran her through the recognition software. She was right back here in Moscow."
"So, Gabriella has returned," mused the older man. "I wonder if this trip is strictly business or whether she's going to visit her old friend."
"Sir, shall I arrange security?" asked the young soldier standing at attention.
"Security? From Gabriella?" huffed the old man. "Young man, I don’t need any security for me. Gabriella and I go a long way back. I raised the child until she left here. I taught her everything she knows. There's no way she would hurt me. She is no more than the little girl that she left here as."
Placing the tips of all his fingers together and leaning his head forward, the older man searched into his mind, finding the image of the young girl who escaped all those years ago. The blank over stare, the rigidity with what she held herself, her unwavering discipline and ability to follow orders, better than he'd ever seen in any soldier. A smile drew over her his face remembering the perfect weapon he had been creating.
"You see, young man, Gabriella would not hurt her father." The older man spoke with confidence. "And that's what I am, I am her father. The only one she's ever known. The only one that spent time with her. The only one that looked after her and trained her, gave her the confidence to be the best that she could possibly be."
Nodding his head quickly the young man dismissed himself and walked out of the room, closing the door quickly behind him.
Reaching to the file on the side of the desk the older man opened it up, seeing the letter that had been forwarded to him by the KGB.
"I don't worry about Gabriella; I do worry about this one though. He'll kill us all, and he doesn't care."
Hello my friends,
By now you have heard and seen on your closed-circuit TV that I have the suitcase bomb that you once possessed.
Your rise and democracy were sloppy on so many levels, but to leave easily maneuverable nuclear weapons out in the open is more than just careless.
I'm sure you all remember me from the time I spent in your gulag and from the years of torture that you had placed upon me. The scars of my body have healed, but the body is different than the mind. I still relive your tortures. I still relive the Satanic acts that your men can commit.
The problem is, you boys were not entirely sure who I was. You did not know my past or my abilities. If there's one thing anyone should do, it is never get in a fight with someone who they are unsure of. Now that I have come in possession of this weapon, I have two choices that stand before me. One, I can use it as a bargaining chip for ransom. I can threaten to blow up any city in the world in demand of payment for whatever figure I choose. Or two, I can exact my revenge on the KGB and Russia itself. I can place this bomb in the heart of Moscow, set it to explode, and kill everybody that is in the city and the suburbs around it. The blast radius in the fallout will destroy of one third of your population in a matter of twenty seconds.
I felt this would be a decision I would struggle with, one that would have money going against anger. But I realize I already have money. Money is not that difficult for me.
Getting my revenge however, is something that I just can't let pass by. To know that the animals who tortured me would be disintegrated in seconds by the blast fills my heart with happiness. I only wish that I could move them further away so that their demise could be longer and more drawn-out.
I want you to know that you have brought this all upon yourselves. The way in which you behave and the way in which you treat others that are in your custody, has caused me to this end. I have been in many prisons in many countries, and none of them used torture as an everyday occurrence. You will not know when the bomb will be exploded. Could be today. It could be in ten years. But I can assure you that it will come without warning, and it will destroy all those who have ever wronged me.
Sincerely,
Akio Mari Moto
The high-ranking officer took his eyes from his desk to look out the window, seeing the children playing in the schoolyard across the street. The evaporation of his entire city stood in the balance, and left him with a decision of whether to start a wide-scale panic of evacuation or to keep the matter within his men try and eliminate the risk.
"Nadia!" Makarov shouted.
Popping the door open, a young, slender woman came into the room. "Yes, sir, you called for me?"
"Yes, young lady. I need to make a very important phone call. I cannot be interrupted for any reason. Not life or death. Not even my own life or death. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir, I understand." The young woman nodded her head and backed out of the doorway, closing it and leaving the man with his privacy.
Placing his hand on the phone he lifted it from its nest, and the dial tone came to life in his ear. He dialed out a number only he knew, the connection was made and a voice rumbled on the other end.
"Yes, it's Makarov. I need to speak with the president. We have a credible threat that is of the highest level of importance. A terrorist attack.”
Chapter Eighteen
"Okay you two, this is where you get out." Claudia pulled the car to the side of the road. "I'm Going to pop the trunk. You two grab the duffle bags in the back, and head straight into the woods. You both need to go off
grid for a while. By this point, they have all our faces and they're likely running them through their identification system right now. They’re never going to find me. Though that's just because I have friends on the inside. But you pair will have every KGB unit across the world looking for you."
"You have this all planned out, don't you?" Gabriella said as she opened the door to the car and started to step out.
"You bet I do. This isn't my first rodeo." Claudia gave her a cheeky smile and winked before continuing. “And hopefully it won't be my last. "
"I'm sure it won't be," Otto called from the back of the car as he pulled the duffel bags out of the trunk.
Walking up to the passenger side of the vehicle, Gabriella leaned over placing her arms in the open window, and looked in at Claudia.
"I can't thank you enough, Claudia. You've taught me a lot. Working with you has shown me what my future is going to look like."
"No needs to thank me, girl. You should have everything you need inside those bags. I've included rations of food, camouflage tents, some warm clothes, and lots of water and water purification. Also, two handguns just in case. My advice is stay in the woods. Take a few days and let yourself recover, Otto. And when you're ready to make the next move, you'll be prepared for it. "
"Thank you, Claudia, your help means a lot to me," Otto said with a smile. " I only wish we could have had longer to get to know each other."
"She's quite a woman," Gabriella said as they watched Claudia. She dropped the car into gear and made a hard U-turn on the road, sprinting off into the distance leaving nothing but tail lights to be seen before she was gone into the night.
"It's always fun trying to find a spot to camp down after dark," Gabriella said as she grabbed one of the bags out of Otto's hands and threw it over shoulder. “How far do you think you can hike? "
"I'm good for about an hour." Otto put the other bag over his shoulder. "Not sure how much more I could do after that. At this point I'm probably going to sleep for about sixteen hours over the next day, so I say we get as much done as we can right now, and then do exactly what Claudia said and get some rest."
Nodding her head, she began walking in between the trees while rummaging through her bag. Finding what she was looking for, Gabriella stopped and placed the pack on the ground. She pulled out a headlamp, that runners sometimes wear when jogging at night, then placed the straps over her head with the light mounted on her forehead and pressed it, bringing it to life.
Rummaging through his pack Otto found the same and followed Gabriella’s directions, giving himself a soft, low light to illuminate the next few feet in front of him.
"She really did think of everything didn't she?" exclaimed Otto. "I can just imagine what she was like back in the day."
"I think she was a real force back then," Gabriella agreed, fondly recalling her time with Claudia. "She's a woman who knows herself, and she seems to know everything that's going on around her."
"Yeah." Otto was starting to feel sluggish, walking through the woods at night weren’t helping his injuries.
"So, if you don't mind me asking, Otto, what makes you so special that we had to come get you?" Gabriella asked.
"I don't know if I’m anything special," Otto allowed himself to sound the slightest bit smarmy as he replied with a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Come on now, you know what I mean. They sent me here to get you out of that situation to have you help me with another one. So, what's your area of expertise that they had me run the risk of capture by breaking into a police station in downtown Moscow with a KGB interrogation facility in its basement?"
"I don't mind telling you that much about me, but I'd like to know a little bit about you too," Otto pressed for a little information.
"I asked you first, Otto. Are you one of those wonder boys that can figure anything out? The one where the guys at MI6 think you're so bright you can crack any computer at any time?" Gabriella asked.
"Do I look like one of those guys?" Otto asked amused. "Most of those guys are sitting behind a desk with their nose pressed down on a keyboard and their eyes focused on the screen, just typing away a mile a minute. I wouldn't have the first idea about what they’re doing. Though at the end of the day they're going to wind up taking all our jobs. Being in intelligence or trying to be a spy is all going to be done at a computer before we know it."
"There will always be a need for some kinds of work," Gabriella said in a softer tone.
"Oh, so you're an assassin."
"An assassin?" Gabriella tried to keep her face neutral. "What makes you think that?"
"Just your reaction to what I was saying."
"What kind of reaction did I have?"
"You just commented that they'd always be a need for some kinds of work," Otto said, trying to sound matter of fact, as his legs began to grow heavy and his lungs struggled to pull in more air. "The only kind of work that won't require a computer, is killing people."
"I guess. Though I’m sure they could get computers to do it somehow."
"So, you are an assassin?" Otto asked.
"No, I'm not an assassin," Gabriella said with confidence. "And if I were, I wouldn't tell you."
"I can understand that." Otto was breathing harder and harder with each step, but he was enjoying the conversation so kept going as best he could. "It's not a problem to me if you are one. As for me, I'm just a guy who does a little bit of freelance work. Most of my stuff is with MI6. I guess you could say that I'm the go-between when the legitimate intelligence agencies need to work with more seedy people."
"So, you facilitate things?" Gabriella asked. "You make things happen when they need to?"
"Facilitator. I like the way that sounds. Yeah that's what I do, I'm a facilitator," Otto said with a little brightness in his voice. "And because of this job of facilitating, I know a lot of people around the world. The people that I know… know people, and the people they know also know people. I have a lot of good relationships so when I need someone to move things down the line, they can help me get in contact with just about anybody that I need to. So, when you have some psycho toting around a warhead in a suitcase, I naturally got the call to make contact with the guy to see what was going on. Maybe there was some way to negotiate the weapon out of his hands."
"So, did you ever get to make contact with him?"
"At this point I just have the information on how I can contact him. But I haven't been able to get in touch yet. The strange thing about it, is he and I once worked together a long time ago. We were both on a similar job dealing with a group of men who were being embezzled. We both got brought in to work on it. Our paths only crossed once at the end, other than that we both worked on our own in separate areas to gather the information these guys needed to eliminate the threat to them."
“Do you think he remembers who you are? If he does, do you think it will matter?" Gabriella was curious.
"That's what I'm banking on. I'm hoping he'll remember my name, and if I tell him that I'm looking for some work he might want me to come and join him. We also spent a day in the gulag together but we were out so fast and parted ways fast." Otto suddenly stopped in his tracks and placed his hands on his knees, trying to stretch out his back.
"This place is as good as any to rest for the night," Gabriella said, as she had noticed Otto’s weariness and didn’t want him to push too hard. “I'll put up the tent. No need for a fire, just grabs us some MREs out of your pack and we can get some sleep."
"That sounds spectacular," Otto let out a large sigh.
Chapter Nineteen
The phone rang on Makarov's desk. Thick nicotine-stained fingers fumbled to pick up the phone in the early hour of the morning. The man had little sleep, knowing that his old protege had made her way back to Moscow never filled him with fear, but with questions.
"Hello," Makarov answered the phone, waiting for a response at the other end.
"Hello, Makarov, we have something to discuss," came
the subtle but strong, familiar voice on the other end of the line.
"I'm sure I know why you're calling. We have nothing to fear, Vladimir, she means us no harm."
"You're staking your life on that fact," Vladimir spoke sharply and to the point.
"Yes, I would put my life on that," Makarov replied.
"I did not ask you if you were willing to, I told you that you are," Vladimir said firmly. "A man does not rise to the position I have by giving what ifs. If this girl becomes a nuisance to us, you're going to pay for her behavior."
"I can assure you, she'll be no problem." Makarov was confident. "The training that we gave her is not one that can be easily broken. We have logged many things into her subconscious that we can pull out at any time we wish."
"That all sounds wonderful, young man, but I wonder if you know really what's going to happen with the girl?" Vladimir poked fun at the man being older than him and enjoyed testing to see what his reaction might be.
"I believe I've stayed true to my word and to Mother Russia for all of my life." Makarov ignored the jibe. "We both just chose different paths. It doesn't mean one was higher than the other."
A rumbling of laughter came out of the phone and jumped in to Makarov's ear. He lifted his wire frame glasses, pushing them back into position on his head as he reached down and removed a cigarette from its box.
"That's quite amusing, old friend," Vladimir laughed. "While you chose to stay with special intelligence, so did I for some time, but then politics became the way I saw that I could make real change."
"And I think we all praise you in your success and what you've done for Russia," Makarov said, trying to calm the waters between them. They had always been in competition with each other, but this was not the time to rock the boat.
