Chapter 7

December 31st – Tallinn, Estonia

Revenge

Eva sipped her expresso and continued to smile at her aunt who was sharing a funny story about one of her politician friends. At the same time, Eva kept an eye on a nearby table of Russians. On this snowy cold New Year’s Eve, Eva sat at a table in the Restaurant Tchaikovsky inside the Hotel Telegraaf. Eva shared the table with her aunt, a former Prime Minister, her aunt’s husband, along with her cousin Max and his fiancé. A family dinner on New Year’s Eve to anyone observing their small group.

Eva glanced at her gold Rolex watch, it was 10:55 pm. 2255 to the military members of the team assembled in and around the restaurant-hotel in old town Tallinn for this evening’s operation. Five more minutes, then things would start to get interesting. Her device vibrated in the small purse in her lap. She didn’t look, didn’t need to. Her job tonight was to observe and provide moral support for the pretty redhead sitting at the table of Russians. Eva watched her back and was waiting for her to move.

The redhead spoke to the man on her right who had been drinking beer and vodka steadily all evening with his two companions. He nodded then returned his attention to his friends, ignoring her. The man who was in his early 50s had a strong handsome face, for a Russian, and was well-dressed in a dark blue suit and red tie. He was the head of the Rostov Group PMC an offshoot of the infamous Wanger Group PMC that had provided mercenaries throughout the Middle East, Africa, and Eastern Europe for over a decade.

Rostov PMC was born during the disastrous Russo-Ukrainian war where Wagner PMC bludgeoned itself to near death against the Ukrainian Army in the early years of the war. Rostov’s mission was to provide soldier ‘advisors’ to countries in the Near East, Africa, and Middle East like Syria and Iran to name a couple of clients.

Eva watched the woman with the long red hair gracefully stand, slowly with the poise of a ballerina, and push back her heavy chair. Her date didn’t stand or help with her chair. A waiter rushed to help, grabbing her chair at the last moment with an apologetic smile. Most of the men sitting at the dozen tables in the dining room, even with their dates, would be hard-pressed not to notice the elegantly dressed beautiful young redhead with supermodel looks. The woman’s red form-hugging evening dress with its plunging neckline barely held in her large breasts the tops of which appeared to be almost falling out the top of the off-shoulder dress.

The woman stood for a moment under the big crystal chandelier that hung over that end of the dining room gripping her little purse in two hands as if looking for something, perhaps the ladies’ room, then smiled when the waiter holding her chair pointed the way. As she passed Eva’s table, she winked before moving on with more purpose in her steps to the front of the hotel restaurant.

Eva knew she would not return. She had known the ice-colored blue eyes that met hers since the two were teenagers attending secondary school in a small town not far from the capital. Eva reached under the table and gripped her cousin’s hand. He was playing his role tonight as dinner companion well. As an agent with the Foreign Intelligence Service of Estonia, he was well aware of who the men were that were sitting at the table that had Eva’s attention.

Speaking in Estonian as he looked at his own less expensive but classy Aegaon wristwatch, “Mother, I think it’s time,” he said to the older distinguished looking blonde sitting across from Eva.

The former Prime Minister and older sister of Eva’s mother took her cue, “Max, I think you’re right. If your father and I want to get to the party before midnight, we should leave now,” she said as she made to stand. Her husband stood and pulled back her chair.

As her aunt stood, she leaned down and spoke into Eva’s ear “There’s a place for you here. Come see me before you leave and we’ll talk more,” her aunt, a respected master of regional politics said, her breath warm on Eva’s cheek as the older woman placed a hand on her shoulder.

Eva nodded, almost tearing up at the kind words, watching her aunt and uncle leave. They had a table reserved at another nearby restaurant bar where they would ring in the New Year with friends. Her cousin and his fiancé who was also with the Foreign Intelligence Service stood and said their goodbyes kissing cheeks but did not leave, taking their seats again.

Now Eva watched and waited a little less circumspectly. The three Russians ignorant of what was about to come. They had ignored the hard looks from the other patrons all night, never noticing Eva and her party even as people stopped by to say hello to her aunt. Besides Alexey, Eva knew one of the Russians was a deputy head of mission of the Russian Embassy in Tallinn, most likely an agent of the SVR-Russian Foreign Intelligence Service. The other was also from the Embassy, a military attaché that intelligence services suspected of various heinous crimes in Ukraine and Poland. Three very dangerous men.

Eva smiled to herself as she took the last bite of her marzipan. She glanced at the fork in her hand, steady. No worries she was surrounded by good people. They had a good plan.

Once it was determined that Alexey was responsible for the murder of Admiral Ford. Brock had said that killing him would have been easy, using poison, or an antitank missile fired into his armored SUV or apartment. But not as satisfying as what he had in mind. Killing a man’s reputation and business before you killed him, was harder but worth the effort. Doing so with the help of his mistress who hated his guts, for her own reasons, even better. It was Eva who provided the lead to Brad Van Winter back in October that eventually led them to this point in time.

On cue at 2301, Alexey took his device out of his suit coat pocket, answering the call with an annoyed look on his face. Eva watched his face go from white to red to purple as he turned to his companions as he ended the call.

Brock tracked the operation’s progress in Estonia from the boardroom at Pegasus headquarters in Nashville, TN. Peggy, his executive assistant sat on his right at the long oak table a laptop open in front of her. Pretty and competent in her tight white blouse, she was loyal and could keep a secret. On the big video screen at the other end of the room was a live feed of the restaurant’s dining room. He watched the pretty redhead leave the table where she had sat with her Russian boyfriend. In the foreground, he could see Eva and her aunt’s party having dessert and coffee. It was time.

Mark, the acting COO, had sat in the room almost seven weeks previous and briefed Brock and the Pegasus board of directors, including Admiral Ford’s eldest son who was currently a Commander in the US Navy on his findings. Then the board along with the younger Ford had decided to act.

Back in the spring of 1997, Admiral Ford had been a Lieutenant Commander assigned to the CIA’s Special Activates Group supporting the NATO peacekeeping mission in Bosnia. Based on what Mark was able to uncover, Alexey’s father Ivan had been detained by local police on suspicion of trafficking young women for sex.

At the time he was detained, he was driving a van with several underage girls locked in the back. He was also an officer in the Russian Army’s GRU – military intelligence. Case closed as far as the local police were concerned. The Bosnians were tired of the Russian soldiers, who were there as peacekeepers, abusing their women. They were going to make an example of him.

LT Commander Ford heard of the Russian Army officer’s arrest from one of his local assets and went to interview him while he was still in custody at the police station. This was the late 1990s after the old Soviet Union had fallen apart, and it was every Russian for himself. In return for a ‘get out of jail free’ card and cash he agreed to spy for the CIA. When LT Commander Ford returned to the SEAL teams, he continued to be promoted all the way up to the rank of Rear Admiral (0-7). All the while he kept a file on Ivan, including a copy of the videotaped interview.

Fast forward fifteen years and Ivan was arrested by the Russian Federal Security Service (FSB) on suspicion of treason, spying for the CIA. He was no longer in the military and was using his skills and contacts for personal profit, building a modestly successful business portfolio. At the time of his arrest, which caused great embarrassment to the family, his son Alexey was an Officer in a Guards Airborne regiment fighting in Ukraine.

This was all very interesting to Brock, and he had been kept up to date on the investigation by Mark. But the answer to the ‘why now’ after all these years was found in the file left in the office safe. Admiral Ford (Ret.), now CEO of Pegasus, had given an interview at the beginning of this year to a respected journalist who was writing an article about the GRU – Russian Military Intelligence’s activities in the 1990s. Ford, perhaps bragging a little or not seeing any risk, named himself as the officer who had turned Alexey’s father and gave an unflattering profile of the turncoat spy. He also provided a copy of the videotaped interview that showed his father volunteering to spy for the Americans with little or no coercion.

A copy of the article along with Ford’s handwritten notes was in the file along with everything else he had on Ivan which he had updated periodically over the years with publicly available information. His last note, dated two years ago, stated that Ivan, now in his 70s, had left Russia after serving a short prison sentence. He was living in Thailand, the part owner of a Gogo bar in Bangkok.

But the ‘why now’ bothered Brock and Mark. The female assassin was still at large in South America. Even if she was caught, he doubted she would shed any light on the why.

The article in question was published in an intelligence journal in July, while Brock and his family were having a good time naked down in Florida. At the same time, Alexey had just taken over as head of Rostov Group. Brock’s best guess was that Alexey, after learning of Admiral Ford’s role in his father’s treason, had the resources for revenge and took it. At the same time damaging a company he viewed as a dangerous rival in the cutthroat business they were in.

Brock and Mark hoped that if the op went according to plan then they might get answers to some of their questions. In the end, the Russian would be dead it was just a matter of how he went, slow or fast. Brutal but necessary they all had agreed if they were to protect their business and families.

That’s where things stood as Emma, the gorgeous redheaded mistress of Alexey headed for the hotel’s lobby bar. Peggy tapped a couple of keys and switched the feed to that of the lobby while keeping a split-screen view of the dining room and Eva. Access to the hotel’s security system had been arranged with the help of Estonian Intelligence. A large map of the old town on the screen showed the positions of the team’s vehicles near the hotel.

Emma walked confidently past the tuxedoed Maître d’ at the front of the restaurant who smiled at the beautiful woman gesturing with his hand towards the lady’s room. She kept on walking towards the upscale lobby bar of the Hotel Telegraaf.

She didn’t acknowledge Alexey’s thug of a bodyguard sitting with the pretty brunette on a small couch in the bar. He didn’t notice her either, he couldn’t. The man was asleep courtesy of the heavy-duty sedative dropped in his drink by the attractive Spanish woman who had been hitting on him for the last half-hour.

Emma didn’t stop for her expensive sable fur coat at the coat check. She went right for the elevator, stopping only to press the call button.

Eva excused herself from the table. She was sorry that she was going to miss watching Alexey’s face as the news kept getting worse for him. Her cousin Max, a highly trained intelligence agent along with Eliise his fiancé would take over the surveillance from here.

Eva, like Emma before her, smiled at the handsome Maître d’. She reached for the small purse now slung over her shoulder on a gold strap.

“Your aunt took care of the bill. It’s always a pleasure to have her visit us.” He said waving off Eva.

“Thank you. Dinner was excellent. My cousin and his fiancé will stay a little while longer.” Eva said before heading towards the lobby.

She glanced into the lobby bar making sure all was clear. In the bar, she saw Maria, the kick-ass helicopter pilot from Centurion wearing a sexy black cocktail dress. Next to her sat a non-descript big man in a cheap brown suit his head tilted to the side as he lay back in the cushions of the couch. Maria raised her glass of red wine in Eva’s direction, a sly grin on her face.

Again, Eva glanced at her hands as she crossed the lobby to the elevator. Steady. A couple of Deep breaths to steady her nerves as the elevator took her to the 4th floor. Mark, the former Delta Force commander, who was running this op had spent many hours with Eva teaching her spy craft 101 and running her through practical exercises in the streets of Tallinn. Weirdly in this serious moment, she was having fun.

She used a key card to enter the 4th-floor room. The scene was almost comical. Her beautiful big-chested friend stood wearing only her pink panties. Emma’s pink-tipped tits hung close to Brad Van Winter’s bearded face as he sat hunched over a laptop at a small desk. Both glanced in her direction as she entered the room. Brad looked at Emma’s naked chest and gave Eva ‘the look’ that said ‘not my fault,’ before they both turned their attention back to the video streaming on the computer screen.