Moten watches the building that he knows is his target off in the distance as the traffic slowly inches forward. He wishes he could just walk the few clicks between the street and the building, but he doesn't want to be caught in an ambush without a ride. Instead, he pulls his coat closer and keeps on looking back and forth between the building and the road in front of him.
Brian has been regretting his decision to listen to his academic advisor and not take Russian, so many years ago, since he got here.
The fellow stepping out of the shadows sets off about a dozen internal alarms. The bulky, easy-to-conceil-a-gun style overcoat, the spark of intelligence in the mans eyes and a general lack of the beaten back look most of the russians in this city had give him a sense that the man doesn't belong here. His timing and location don't help the situation either. All in all, it's a good idea to listen to your nerviousness.
Position compromised, they were waiting. Jess is either dead, captured or long gone by now.
Brian doesn't understand a word coming out of the man's mouth, but the expectant look and the presence of a cigarette give away his probable intentions. Brian does his best impression of a semi-hungover man patting his pockets to find a lighter before replying,
"Nyet" with an appologetic, I-think-I-left-it-in-the-pub look. He does his best to blur it into a nice, nondescript European accent. That, and gets ready to make a go at the man if it's clear he's not biting.
Yuri shrugs as he continues to move toward the stranger. From his brief reply, Yuri can tell that he doesn't speak like a Russian; the accent is wrong. Similarly, he's clearly quite fit and his clothes are not sufficiently worn - nor does he seem to bear the requisite stench - of someone who lives on the street.
"That is unfortunate, no?" Yuri says in heavily-accented English. "You be looking lost, I am thinking. Maybe I help, yes?" As he continues walking toward Brian, he watches him carefully; long ago he learned to assume that everyone was carrying a weapon, and the man's soiled coat could easily hide one.
Peter slowly walks towards the parked aircraft, mentally preparing his Welcome to Siberia, I hope you like snow speech. As he makes his way through the snow, he notices some rattling in his life insurance case and sighs.
Oh, no, I don't need to use a holster, let's impress the new kids with a custom gun case. Note to self: Next time, don't try to impress people with rush jobs.
Restraing the rising urge to clock this guy, Brian decides that maybe it is time to try this "talk your way out *before* killing" thing people are so fond of. At least now he'll try it in a language and accent he's good at. Giving the man a slightly confused expression, he switches to nice eastern german:
"Excuse me? I'm sorry, but my English is only a little better than my Russian...I'm looking for a man, named Peter Kazamarov. He gave me directions to here. Maybe you can tell me where a payphone is so I can call him and ask which floor he lives on? He forgot to tell me it was an apartment building..."
He looks at the man with a hopeful, please-say-you-speak-german expression, doing his best to convey some middle class german, probably involved in something mildly illegal - but nowhere near as illegal as what Brian is actually doing - who is in over his head just a bit.
Brian shifts his weight just enough to look like he's moving towards the cop without shifting his center of balance, and proceeds to move as swift as is humanly possible into the cover of the building.
Brian feigns his move, but it appears that the Russian has seen this sort of manuever at least once before. Watching Brian make a break for the building's entrance, the Russian drops low and attempts a reverse-footsweep. Brian highsteps the man's efforts and manages to get just inside the structure as the Russian tries to regain his composure.
Yuri swears as Brian slips away. Rising to his feet, he fishes the radio from his pocket and speaks into it. "<Suspect has fled into the building. All ground units converge and interdict."> That said, he begins to trot towards the entrance, expecting to hear the bark of the KPD dogs he stationed inside at any moment.
Brian rushes into the dubious safety of the building, making his way into its interior, unslinging the MP5 as he does. This was, to put it bluntly, not going well. Ah well, it wasn't nearly as interesting if things went smoothly, now was it.
Alright...cops were waiting. They'll have search teams, and the goddamn Russians just can't resist using dogs. Good news is, for the moment, they don't have the big guns out. Focus Brian. You've evaded better men than these, in nothing but a prison uniform.
Collecting his thoughts, Brian begins to search for a likely avenue of escape.
Osprey sees two police officers flanking him on either side of the entry hall. They are shouting something in Russian most likely, "Hands Up or we send in the dogs!".
Think, dammit. Think.
Osprey looks around for the most direct avenue of escape as (presumably) K9 units approach.
Stairs...elevator...back outside...or shoot my way through the police.
There are options, none of which being good ones.
Outside the apartment building.
Moten watches the two figures scuffle with one of them high-tailing it for the entrance. The person left outside pulls out a radio with a team of well-armed police officers immediately converging around the building's entrance.
Airstrip just outside Novosibirsk
The Gulfstream's exit door opens as a man dressed in a bomber jacket steps down and releases the lower hinge on the stairs. The man shouts and waves to Peter as if he were an old friend.
Peter raises his hand in reply, shouting back a hearty "Strasdvitje!". Weary of the cold outside, he walks up to the jet and begins to climb the stairs. Once inside, he looks around with a cheery grin.
"Hello, everyone ! I'm Santa Pelican, and I come bearing gifts!"
He walks around and greets everyone in sequence; he hands the truck keys to Artis.
"For you, Mr. Gossard. Something to drive around. I'm afraid she's a bit bigger than what you usually use, but I can almost guarantee you'll like her.
Next, he reaches under his coat and hands a DVD case to Ayumi.
"Iron Tigers IV. It's only a bootleg, but I think it'll take some years before they finally manage to figure out who actually owns the rights to it. Too bad they made you wear that stupid blonde wig, but you acted that starlet right against the wall. Fancy footwork, too."
Finally, he shakes Carla's hand and hands her a combat knife.
"Straight out of Solingen, Kalashnikov line, signed by good ol'd Mikail himself. I figure it's better for you to use it than have it catch dust."
Moten sees the SWAT team and their dogs go into the building after what he presumes is someone on that new team he read about.
"Goddamnit," he says, turns the car off, grabs his bag contiaining all his gear and starts running towards the building, FBI badge in hand. Hope the idiot doesn't get himself or anyone else killed before I get there...
Elevators are a death trap...outside isn't going to be friendly for long...shooting cops at this stage *is* going to get them to bring out the big guns...stairs it is
Staying low and moving fast, Brian goes for the stairs, trying to avoid confrontation for the moment. As he goes up, he ditches the jacket in one of the recesses, getting rid of both bulk and hopefully distracting the inevitable K-9 team a bit longer.
Reaching the door to the building, Yuri sweeps the area with his eyes one last time in preparation for entering. He notes a man running in their direction carrying a bag. "<Sniper Two, potential hostile approaching from southwest. Over.>"
"<Copy that, leader. Should I take him down? Over.>"
"<No. I'll intercept; cover me. Sniper One, maintain postion and cover Mikhail's group. Mikhail, you're in charge of bagging the runner.>"
"<Sniper One, check.>"
"<Got it, Yuri. I'm entering from the rear now,>" replies Mikhail.
Yuri waves the cop that was following him toward the door on inside, then moves to intercept the new man on the scene, one hang in the deep pocket of his coat. As he nears the man, he flashes his FSB badge. "<This is a crime scene. Disperse or be arrested.>"
Scrambling up the steps, shots are fired at Brian. Bullets ricochet off the concrete walls with one lodging itself into his left bicep. The pain is quick but agonizing as Osprey turns the corner of the stairwell and peers down the barrel of a K9 unit's pistol just as he releases his dog.
Moten drops his bag and opens his FBI badge. "FBI! I'm with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and that man in there is one of mine. Call off the dogs, unless you want the US State and Justice Department calling your boss."
Brian gives the K9 a good boot to chops, temporarily stunning the pooch and goes after its master. Not wanting to add "cop killer" to his crimesheet, Osprey strikes the opposing officer's shoulder with the butt of his SMG. The blow isn't enough to incapacitate the policeman but it does effect his aim. Two shots ring out in the stairwell with Brian taking a grazing shot to his arm.
"FBI?" Yuri smirks, These Americans... Always think they can order us around in our own country. "You think that carry weight here? No. Tell your man: surrender. We question him at station. If we like answers, we give him back."
punkey
