Peter looks from Carla to Brian and back before his mind slowly - and visibly - shifts into gear.
"Well, I'll be damned. I'm standing around here grinning like an idiot, and I didn't even greet you yet. You're the crazy limey who did a HALO drop over Krasnoyarsk, right? I'm Peter, resident gearhead and the other 'technically on loan' guy."
He goes to shake Brian's hand.
"Oh, crap. I got you a present, but I forgot it in the truck. I'm really sorry, I'll make up for it when I have the chance."
Ilyanna is the last to climb from Peter's car. Four people emerge from a wreck of a car that looks to have barely made it this far. The two groups greet each other as though friends. *So these must be the other members of the team...* Ilyanna hangs back, waiting to be introduced.
Brian chuckles as he shakes his hand. "Yeah, I'm the one jumping out of planes." Brian already likes the German, and shakes his head softly at the mention of a present. "No worries...welcome to the wonderful world of perminant temporary transfer."
Brian moves to shake Ilyanna's hand as he does the other half of the introductions.
"This here is Robert Moten, a fine spook if I've ever met one. The two ladies are Carla and Ayumi."
Ilyanna greets each of the team members in turn. She seems a little shy, but warms up fairly quickly. If asked, she explains that Nightengale sent her to help the team deal with the locals and find their way around. It's still their op, and she's there to facilitate and advise, rather than take over.
On the way to Omsk, the Team does a bit of legwork on Mr. Petrovski's penthouse. Ironically, it was about 2km away from the Agency safehouse. Small world.
Listening to news feeds, it seems that the FSB have cordoned off several square blocks around Petrovski's residence since the shooting.
Petrovski's #1, Vladimir Oromov, while also under suspicion of aiding his laundering scheme has since disappeared. The two officers surveilling his home have also turned up missing.
While the rest of the team proceeds to Omsk via the COBRA and Ilyanna's Jetta, Peter has other concerns. After being dropped off at the warehouse, he watches the two other cars pull into the distance. He'll follow them in time.
Disarming the rig's countermeasures via remote control, Peter takes a moment to touch the car's new (if hasty) paintjob and feel the smooth, metal skin. Without the slightest degree of hurry, he climbs up into the cab, replaces his laptop on the dash and looks around, readjusting the driver's seat and fiddling with the other interior elements until he's regained his feel for them. Finally, he grabs the rig's key and holds it up in his right hand, smiling.
"Hello, baby. Miss me?"
He starts the engine and revs it up a few times, then puts the truck in gear and starts his journey to Omsk.
While the team discusses strategy in Omsk, the subject of Samantha Illiavic comes up. Ilyanna has heard of her, and volunteers to do some digging with her ex-KGB acquaintances in the FSB to see if she can learn anything about the woman's whereabouts. The team gives her the go-ahead, so she sets out.
It takes several hours, but she is able to track down a lead. Thus, she returns to report in.
"Well, I found some information on Ms. Iliavic. It seems the FSB keeps an eye on her. Several recent sightings seem to indicate that she seems to have set up shop in an area of Kiev." Ilyanna gives them street names that bound a neighborhood where Samantha is believed to be located.
Denko Kosminski stands in his tuxedo smoking a Cohiba on the back terrace of Josef Petrenko's sprawling estate on the outskirts of Kiev. Petrenko, a Ukrainian industrialist/part-time arms dealer with ties to the Odessa Syndicate has been the subject of an intensive FSB investigation involving his connection with Samantha Illiavic and her foul deeds abroad.
Kosminski is the lead agent on the matter and is currently undercover as a heavy working as part of Petrenko's personal security force.
Denko checks the immediate area for anyone nearby before pulling out his phone.
"Control. Illiavic spotted at Petrenko estate. Arrived late, left after a brief visit with Petrenko is his private study."
News filters quickly when you have the right connections. Not an hour after the report was logged, the same message appears on A-Team's SATCOMMs.
Chopin's Coffeehouse, downtown Kiev. 07:22 local time.
A steady mixture of snow and sleet melts down the coffeehouse's windows as Denko puts way too many packets of sugar in his cafe au lait.
(taking a drag off an unfiltered Camel cigarette)
"So, what do you want to know about her¹?" states Kosminski deliberately, with a barely-noticable accent.
"I should first say that even mentioning that name in public might find yourself lucky to have bled-out in alleyway from multiple stab wounds and a cut throat..."
(stirs his coffee then takes a sip)
"....That's if you're lucky. Of course, I presume you already know all about her and her methods of conducting business. We wouldn't be having the conversation if you weren't. No?"
A cursory take on Agent Kosminski confirms his dossier....a no-nonsense former KGB operative currently spending the remainder of useful years in public service. He is of medium-build, fair complexion, greying at the temples, with a penchant for imported cigarettes and fine cigars.
Denko looks across the table, reading the men sitting before him. His eyes quickly scan past Artis and Ayumi, assuming from their posture and demeanor that they're the heavies of the operation. The Russian's gaze fixates upon Moten, stopping on him for an unsettling amount of time.
"Before we continue this little talk of ours, I'd like you to tell me why a Fed is in cahoots with a band of international mercenaries?" remarks Denko, switching from his conversational English to Russian.
Quote: from Gatac on 9:23 am on April 18, 2005
Peter grins.
"He's just tagging along to see how we do things. Didn't get that promotion, and he doesn't want to work until he's 65."
Denko sneers a bit, his contempt for American agents duly noted.
"Your friend's nationality not withstanding, you do realize the amount of trouble one would raise if that sort of information were to released to the general population? It's not like telling you where to find the best place for blintzes or the cheapest hotel in town that doesn't have cat-sized mice. This is...a very sensitive subject to my employer."
Kosminski doesn't seem worried about himself, but rather who in the higher echelons that may find out that a certain field Op decided to take an early retirement without prior notice. The fact that the man does not appear to above bribery denotes that he -can- be bargained with.
"Well, the way I see it, it's all about damage control. We both want to get rid of her, and if you won't help us, we'll just have to find her ourselves. But that'll just give her time to dig in, and that means the operation will be a whole lot nastier. I understand your concerns, but I believe that this matter calls for an unbureaucratic response."
"Agreed." responds Denko, seemingly being of the same opinion. He leans back in his chair, stubbing out his cigarette and immediately lighting another.
"But the problem does not end with eliminating certain individuals. The person in which you are referring to is only...How you say, tip of iceberg?"
Denko puffs away with a certain degree nervousness as they discuss the potentially untimely death of Samantha Illiavic.
"The Central Committee has been trying to do what you describe for nearly thirty years. First it was her father, then her uncle...now it is her head's turn on the chopping block. All intelligence we gather these days is to keep the organization in check. It is all about the consequences of such an act. You eliminate the one, the others come looking for who did it...which is to say you'll be taking spitting in the face of the big bosses in Odessa. I'd rather re-up my enlistment in the Army than having to look over my shoulder every time I exit a building."
"I don't like the situation either, but if they try to get even, they'll just pinpoint themselves for us to take down. Our flexibility and small group size must be our advantage. By the time they've managed to reorganise themselves, we should have dealt them quite a blow. If they try to come back in style, they'll leave enough tracks to smack them around further. If they withdraw, they'll have to deal with losing a lot of their power. Either way - if we can weather this first storm, we can bring the whole house of cards down, eventually."
He sighs.
"Honestly, I'm not worrying about this now. Just getting our foot in the door will be quite enough for now."
threadbare
Gatac
Dieter