Chapter 5

I went back to the hotel; packed what few things I had and checked out. I retrieved my truck from the hotel's garage and drove to the embassy. It would stay in the embassy garage until I was back in the States, and then embassy people could return it to the rental agency. I was to stay out of sight until we were ready to put our plan in motion. It would blow everything if I were spotted wandering around Georgia without Isidora.

The same Marine who had driven Isidora to the airport was detailed to help me empty the truck. He was quiet and courteous and called me sir as he unloaded the cans of diesel. When I pulled the two pistols out from under the front seats he eyes got wide, and after I extracted Badra's VSS sniper rife out from under the folded down rear seat, he could no longer contain his excitement.

"Holy shit sir. You got enough artillery here to start your own war."

I laughed. "You don't have to call me sir, my name's Trent."

"OK, Trent, you got some wicked pieces here. Did you ever have to use them?"

I thought about brushing him off, but he seemed to be a decent guy, and as low as I was feeling, a little friendly conversation might help. I was pretty sure he wouldn't be leaking any critical intelligence. I stuck out my hand.

"I'm Trent Lyons."

He took my hand with a firm grip. "I'm Sgt. Crockett, Dave Crockett."

When he saw my smile, he explained. "My mom had a sense of humor."

"Well Dave, to be honest, I never fired any of these weapons, but a friend of mine did. That VSS rifle saved my life."

"No shit! He must have been some friend. A Russian?" He asked.

"Actually she's a Chechen."

"A woman? You're jerking me around, right?" Then he thought for a while. "I'd like to meet the chick who could handle one of these things. She must be something."

"Yeah, she's something alright." I agreed.

Now that Dave had discovered that I wasn't some officious jerk, his curiosity got the better of him.

"That girl I took to the airport. Is she your fiancée?"

I nodded.

"I hope you don't mind me saying so, but she's one hot babe." Then for fear he'd offended me, he backpedaled. "She must be crazy for you, she blubbered all the way."

"Yeah, I'm a little crazy for her too." The mention of Isidora jerked my mind back to my situation and my face must have shown it. Dave noticed.

"Hey, don't worry. I drove for Capt. Meltzer for over a year. He's a good guy. He'll take care of your girlfriend."

I assumed that Capt. Meltzer must be the air attaché.

Dave went on. "I know Mrs. Meltzer pretty well too. She's like super-mom. They're great people."

Hearing these things from Dave did make me feel a little better. Mr. Ward might have his own reasons for trying to reassure me, but Dave had no motive to lie.

"Thanks man, I guess you can tell I'm a little worried." I confessed.

Dave took a closer look at me.

"You a Marine?" The way he phrased the question revealed something about Marine mentality. There are no ex-Marines: once a Marine, always a Marine.

"No, Navy, but I worked with the Marines. My last tour was with the Teams in Little Creek."

"You were with the SEALs?"

"Yeah, Team Two. We were all over Europe. That's how I got into the security business. I thought I could get out of the Navy and make a bunch of money. Take my advice. Stick with the Marines."

Dave laughed. "Yeah, I hear you."

For the next few days, my job was to keep out of sight and wait. The safe house was on the outskirts of Tbilisi. Like Salma's house, it was well concealed behind a tall concrete wall. It was quiet and the bed was good, so I caught up on my sleep. Mostly, it was tough doing nothing, but I did manage to get a phone call off to my cousin Garth. I explained as much as I could to him without breaking security. He didn't ask too many questions and assured me that he'd keep an eye out for Isidora.

Late in the afternoon, after three days of waiting, Mr. Ward showed up in a black Suburban. He had two people with him. One was a short wiry guy in his late thirties, and the other was a young woman. When I first saw her I did a double take. She wasn't an exact duplicate of Isidora, but there were a lot of similarities. She was the same height, with dark hair, maybe a shade lighter than Isidora's, and she was on the delicate side, although a little more curvaceous. The most striking difference was her deep blue eyes. She looked a little older, but she could still pass for eighteen. If my heart hadn't belonged completely to Isidora, I would have noticed that she was a total babe.

Mr. Ward made the introductions. The thin wiry guy was Gus Gustavson. He was to be our "handler". His job would be to strategize and direct the operation from a distance. The woman was Nika Baluyevskova. She was the agent the Russians had selected for the mission. We shook hands, said the typical polite things to each other, then Mr. Ward made his exit. Gus was now in charge.

He didn't waste much time with formalities, but started right in.

"My job is to make sure this operation is successful. It's your job to act on the guidance I give you. I say guidance, because most of the time, you two are going to be on your own. I can tell you what I want to happen and how, but fact is, in this business, circumstances change and lots of times you'll just have to play by ear."

He turned to Nika. "How's the English Nika? Am I going too fast?"

Nika just smiled. "My English is fine. I went to high school in Virginia."

I was surprised. Her English was perfect. Gus was unaffected and continued on.

"Trent, I've read your rap-sheet, and I know you've got one hell of a reputation in security, but the first thing you should know is that this work is very different. Security work is straightforward. This work is not. You're going to have to get into the habit of analyzing every step you take before you take it. Sometimes it's like a game of chess. What appears to be the right move at the time can result in disaster later.

I nodded, thinking to myself "What a load of crap".

Gus either missed or ignored the smirk on my face and he went on.

"Here are the rules for now. First, stay out of sight until you're ready to appear as "Trent and Isidora". Then appear only as directed. Second avoid any hassle with Georgian authorities. Third, no confrontation with Basayev's men while you're here in Georgia. For god's sake, no gun fights. If they find you, run, resist only to save your lives. We'll have people backing you up, but they won't step in unless absolutely necessary. We don't want anything to happen that will spoil the deal right here in Georgia.

Any questions?"

Nika had one. "If Basayev's men are watching the airport, and if we don't want to be taken by them, how are we going to get out of Georgia?"

Gus looked mildly amused. "Yeah, that's a good question. We're working on it. You two may have to go for a little drive."

With that, Gus looked at his watch. "Look, I have to brief the ambassador, and then I'm going to get a good night's sleep. I flew in from Tokyo, and my body thinks it's about three in the morning. What I want you two to do is get acquainted tonight. Trent, you fill Nika in on details about Isidora and Nika can tell you all about herself." He smiled. "It should be fun. I'll see you in the morning."

As the door shut behind Gus I turned to Nika. We both smiled uneasy smiles and I spoke first.

"So, how does a high school girl from Virginia end up as a Russian secret agent?"

She laughed. "I'm far from a secret agent. I'm a lawyer. I went to high school in Virginia because my father was stationed at the embassy in D.C."

"Your father is a diplomat?"

"No, actually, he's the spy in the family, or at least he was while we were in D.C. He's an army officer, and while we were in the States, his job was to mostly just gather intelligence."

Now it was my turn to laugh. "Are you sure you're supposed to be telling me that your father was a spy?"

"Why not? It's common knowledge."

It might be common knowledge, but not to me. I guessed that I had a lot to learn about this spy business.

"Now you're a lawyer?" She looked way too young.

"Yes, I just started work for the office of the Deputy Prosecutor for North Caucasus. I think I was picked for this job mostly because I have a little knowledge of the Basayev operation, that and because I look a little like your Isidora and understand some Chechen."

She did look like Isidora, maybe a little too much. I joked. "You're a lawyer not a secret agent? You don't have a code book and a gun, maybe some poison pills?"

"No, none of that. Sorry."

It turned out that Nika was a nice person and easy to talk to. I filled her in on all the details I could remember about Isidora. I was getting a little sad by the time I finished. Nika picked up on my mood and tried to cheer me up.

"Hey, we're stuck here together for the night and I'm getting hungry. What do you have to eat?"

My eating habits hadn't been too good for the last few days. I'd been living off whatever was in the safe house refrigerator, mostly cheese, assorted lunchmeats and brown bread, washed down by Georgian beer. I hadn't been too hungry but mostly I didn't care to cook. I pointed Nika to the refrigerator.

"Help yourself."

She had kicked off her shoes, so she padded barefoot over to the refrigerator and inventoried the contents. Then she checked the kitchen cabinets.

"How about Italian? Everything we need is here?"

"I've just been eating sandwiches." I replied, lying back on the sofa where I'd been sitting.

"Well, you could have Italian tonight if you'll get off your lazy butt and help me a little."

--She was laughing but I saw a glint of steel in her eyes. So I got off my butt and helped her, and we did have Italian, and it was pretty damn good.

I didn't sleep too well that night. I dreamt of Isidora, but the dreams weren't good ones. She was sad, crying for some reason. I was there with her and I wanted to comfort her, but your some reason I couldn't. When I tried to hold her, she slipped right through my arms as if I wasn't there at all. It was a rotten dream and I tossed and turned all night.

Next morning I was up at first light. I shuffled to the one bathroom in the house wearing only my boxer shorts. Just as I was about to open the door, the toilet flushed and out stepped Nika. She was wearing only a bra and thong panties.

When I saw her I jumped back. She just laughed at me.

"Hey, they didn't give me time to pack my pajamas."

"Nika, I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be up." I apologized.

"Look Trent, if we're going to live together and work together, things like this are going to happen. We're both grownups, so don't worry about it."

--Then she stepped gracefully by me and into her room, closing the door softly behind her. I guessed she was right, but I was still a little shaken. I had noticed that she had a dancer's body. Those curves of hers were well-defined muscle and I felt disloyal to Isidora for paying such close attention to them.

Gus showed up as Nika and I were sipping our morning coffee. He was wired and ready for business.

"OK gang, we got a big day in front of us, but before we start on the details, let me give you the overview. If you know the strategy, then if you have to improvise tactics, maybe you'll make better decisions."

Nika gave me a private little smile. She knew what I was thinking about the whole strategy/tactics thing. Gus ignored her.

"Our combined governments know that Marks and Basayev are working together in a wide range of criminal activities. We know this because we've been reading their mail. Both U.S. and Russian intelligence people have wiretaps in place on their landlines. We're intercepting their cell phone traffic when we can and we're scanning their e-mail too. The problem is that there's a difference between intelligence and evidence. Even if we wanted to reveal our sources, intelligence usually can't be used in court, and to get evidence we need a court order for the wiretaps. Things may be a little different in Russia, but they got political problems that keep them from acting right now."

"Following me so far?"

We both nodded.

"Well, thanks to Trent and Isidora and their recent adventures of past months, we now have enough ammo to go to a judge to get those court orders. We'll be legally gathering evidence within a day or so, just as soon as we get a couple of depositions done."

I wasn't 100% clear on the deposition thing, but Nika smiled and nodded. Gus seemed pleased and continued.

"Once we're gathering legal evidence, we want to give Marks and Basayev lots of reason to talk to each other. Every time they open their mouths it's an opportunity for us to develop criminal charges against them. Getting them to talk is where you two come in. Your movements have to be detected by Basayev or Marks. You have to be doing things that would indicate that you're acting by yourselves and that you have no idea that Marks is in with Basayev. You'll be walking a fine line, leaving a little trail, but never getting caught. It should be fun."

Apparently Gus thought that anything Nika and I might find uncomfortable would be fun. He was still wound up and he continued without a pause.

"OK, now that you got the strategy, here's what we're going to do near term. First, some people from the embassy are going to come by here in about 15 minutes to take Trent's deposition. After that "Trent and Isidora" are going to go out on the town to try to get "Isidora" some forged travel documents. The part of town you'll be going to is a little rough, but we'll have people nearby. You should be safe. While you're shopping for documents, you'll drop the hint that you're on the run from Basayev. The kinds of people you'll be meeting are the kind who might gladly sell this info to Basayev. Hopefully they will."

Nika spoke up. "But if Basayev finds out we're buying documents, won't his people be waiting for us when we go back to pick up them up?"

Gus gave an evil laugh. "Yes my dear, but that's the trick. You won't ever go back for them. The more Basayev waits for you to show, the antsier he'll get. Finally, he'll have to conclude that you were either warned or got scared and went somewhere else. That will most likely generate an incriminating call to Marks."

I began to think that Gus was either an evil genius or else a little too twisted for any of this to ever work. We'd soon find out.

Later that morning after I'd given my deposition, Nika and I loaded into one of the black embassy Surburbans. This one had heavily tinted windows. We were dropped off on a deserted side street near the center of Tbilisi. Before we stepped out of the suburban, Gus warned us.

"I'm not worried about Basayev this time, but keep in mind that you're going into a rough neighborhood. You're obviously foreigners and that makes you a good target. Robberies and kidnappings are routine around here."

I was surprised when Nika just smiled. At the time, I figured that because she was Russian she was just too familiar with that kind of criminal activity to be very concerned.

We walked a few blocks and then caught a cab to the address Gus had given us. It was a neighborhood that wouldn't be seen in any travel brochures.

The place where we were going was in sort of a strip mall of small shops. It was on a dirt street with a narrow dirt parking lot in front. Beat up vehicles, most with all sorts of tasteless aftermarket chrome and plastic hanging on them were parked at odd angles in front of the shops. The place we were looking for had a sign in front that was in English. It read "Exchange. Dollars. Best Rates". All the other advertising was in a Georgian script that I couldn't read.

When we pushed open the door, a buzzer rang. The smell of hashish almost knocked me over. There was a skinny, dark complexioned man of about thirty sitting on a stool behind a glass display case. He gazed suspiciously at us with bloodshot eyes. I spoke in Russian.

"We're looking for Botso. Is this the right place?"

"Botso?" He answered in good Russian. "Never heard of him."

"Are you sure? We were told we could find him here." I placed a 50 Lari note on the counter. He reached for it but I kept my hand on it.

"Maybe I could find a person by that name. What do you want him for?"

"We were told that he could help us get some papers we need." I released my hold on the bill and he took it.

"Wait here. I'll see what I can do."

A minute later, the dark complexioned man returned with a short fat man in tow. He waved the fat man toward us and then disappeared into the back room. The fat man spoke, also in Russian.

"Some people call me Botso. It's a nickname. Perhaps I'm the man you're seeking?"

"Yeah, perhaps you are." I motioned to Nika. "She needs a Russian passport with a visa for travel to the U.S. Can you help her?"

"That kind of document is very expensive. Are you sure that's what you want?"

Now Nika spoke. "Yes, you see, I left home rather unexpectedly, and I didn't bring my passport."

The fat man had ignored Nika to this point, and now he turned to her.

"Ah yes. That would explain the need. Unexpectedly you say?"

Nika played it perfectly. "Yes, my grandfather has a bad temper, and he doesn't want us to marry. We had to run away." With that, Nika took my arm and gazed lovingly up at me.

"Ah, True love. How nice. Because you're in love I will help you. But, it will still be expensive." He smiled a greedy little smile.

It was now my turn. "How much?"

"Can you pay in U.S. dollars?"

I nodded.

"I can have what you need in a few days. It will cost $10,000."

Nika laughed in his face. "You've been smoking too much hashish. We can give you a thousand."

He turned to me. "Surely your young lady doesn't understand these things."

Nika didn't wait for my response. "This young lady understands just fine. You're a thief, and you're trying to steal my fiancé's money."

The fat man rolled his eyes. "You misjudge me. There are many expenses. Perhaps if I cut a few corners, I could do what you want for $5000."

They were in full-haggle mode now.

Nika responded. "$1500."

Fat Man came back. "Maybe for $3000."

Nika took my arm. "Come on Trent. Let's go." She started to steer me to the door.

Fat Man caved. "OK, OK. $2000."

Nika smiled. "Deal."

Fat man looked at me with respect. "She is indeed a thrifty woman. She will make an excellent wife."

Then he turned to Nika. "Now tell me dear, what name shall we use on the passport?"

Nika gave him Isidora's full name, and in the process managed to drop Basayev's name and a few details about our "elopement". If Fat Man recognized Basayev's name, he didn't give a hint. He guided Nika to a backdrop and took a few pictures with a digital camera. We agreed to meet again in two days, and then we were ready to leave.

As we turned for the door, Fat Man addressed me in an ingratiating whine. "Sir, if you could leave a little deposit, say $500 it would help to speed things up."

Nika laughed at him again. "You'll get your money when we get the passport." She took my hand and pulled me out the door. As we exited, I noticed that our cab was gone. I'd asked him to wait, but cabs are everywhere in Tbilisi, so I wasn't too worried.

As we walked to the corner where there was a better chance of getting a cab we passed a group of three men sitting on the hood of a beat up old Lada sedan. The car was tricked out with huge chrome hubcaps and tassels hanging in every window and the men were passing around a screw cap bottle of some cheap Georgian wine. Unemployment in Georgia is over 40%, and beer isn't even classified as an alcoholic beverage, so the scene was nothing out of the ordinary.

As we passed, one of the men muttered something in Georgian to Nika. Nika stopped and turned to him. She addressed him in Russian.

"Care to speak to my face in a language I can understand?"

The guy was big and he looked like he could be trouble. I might be able to handle him, but Gus had made a point about not doing anything that might get Georgian authorities involved. I took Nika's arm and tried to guide her away, but she shook me off. In the mean time the guy turned to his friends, said something else in Georgian and laughed. Nika walked right up into his face.

"Well? Are you too stupid to understand or too scared to talk?"

He turned to his friends with a smirk on his face before he spoke in broken Russian.

"I said you have nice tits. I bet you'd like it if I pinched them."

Nika called his bluff. "Why don't you try?"

The big guy looked at me, then he looked at Nika, then he looked at his friends. He gave a little sneer and reached toward Nika's breasts. Nika responded like a cobra. With a movement that was almost faster than I could follow she deflected his hand and smashed her palm into his nose and upper lip. Her second blow to his solar plexus was just as quick. The big guy's eyes just rolled back into his head and he fell straight back onto the hood of the Lada. He lay there unmoving, blood flowing from his broken face.

Nika glared at the other two men, but they were stunned into immobility. I was too. Nika smiled and took my arm. As she walked me away she turned to them.

"You should have more respect for foreigners. Especially ladies."

When we reached the corner, a cab appeared as if by magic. I shoved Nika in and scrambled in beside her. As the cab pulled away, I began to think about what had just happened. I was angry.

"Damn Nika! That was stupid."

The satisfied smile on Nika's face faded and she looked at me with surprise. "What do you mean?"

"It was a nice display of martial arts skill, but it was incredibly dumb. You could've gotten us both beaten up or worse, and you may have blown our cover. What for? To teach a street punk a lesson?"

Nika had a genuinely hurt look on her face. "But he was insulting us."

"That doesn't make any difference. You lost your perspective. The important thing is to get through this operation."

Her voice was low. "I'm sorry. Maybe I just wanted to prove myself to you."

I'd seen this kind of macho behavior before, but always in guys. It always disgusted me.

"If you want to impress me, do it by being smart. Baiting a guy and then beating the shit out of him for no good reason isn't going to do it."

Nika looked on the verge of tears. "I had a good reason."

"What could that be?" I wondered.

"I understand Georgian. He didn't say my tits were nice. He lied when he spoke in Russian."

Now I was confused. Nika explained in a little girl voice.

"What he really said was that it looked like I was leading you around by your tiny little dick."

I struggled hard to keep a stern face, but it was useless. I burst out laughing.

"OK, so you did have a good reason to smack him, but it was still risky. Don't do something like that again."

She smiled and moved closer to me. "OK, from now on, I'll try to be a good Isidora."

Something about the way she said that creeped me out a little but I let it pass.

I was curious. "You told me you're a lawyer. Do they teach you to hit people like that in law school?"

"No. Before I went to the U.S., I studied ballet. There were no good ballet schools near where we lived in Virginia, so I took karate instead. You'd be surprised how similar karate is to ballet."

Then she thought a minute. "You know, I've never actually hit anyone for real before."

I thought back over the past months and sighed. "Yeah, for some reason I seem to bring out the killer instinct in women."

That evening, Nika was very quiet. Once again she dug through the groceries in the safe house and created an excellent meal. She didn't ask for my help this time, but seemed very anxious that I enjoy her creation, which I did. Afterward, we sipped American beer and watched American TV via the safe house satellite hookup. More than once I caught her looking at me instead of the TV. Finally I questioned her.

"What's up Nika? You're watching me like you think I might bite you."

She hesitated for a moment then spoke in a soft voice.

"It's just that I want to do this job right. I'm worried that you're not happy with me, and I want you to be."

"Nika, it's no big deal. You just made a mistake today. Maybe I came down on you a little too hard. We'll do fine together."

I could see that she was still unconvinced, so I went on. "The part today where you haggled with Fat Man was really great. I'm sure Isidora would probably have done the same."

She smiled. "I only want you to give me a chance."

Next morning, as before, Gus was wired and full of nervous energy.

"OK gang, we got it figured out. We know how we're going to get you out of Georgia. You're going to Armenia. It should be fun."

Both Nika and I rolled our eyes.

"Basayev's watching the airport here, but it's highly unlikely he or Marks will have anyone in Armenia. You can fly from Yerevan via Aeroflot to London, and then right into Baltimore."

Nika interrupted. "How are we going to get to Yerevan?"

Gus had an answer. "It's only a half day drive from Tbilisi to Yerevan. We're going to dust off Trent's rental truck. You guys can drop it at the airport in Yerevan."

Now I had a question. "What about travel documents?"

Gus just laughed. "We're the American embassy right? We can make you any kind of documents you want." Then he got serious. "We've got people working on your travel documents now. We could get the real things, but since we want Marks and his gang to think you're still on your own, everything will be forged but look very authentic."

Nika had one last question. "When do we leave?"

"This afternoon if possible. With any luck you can fly out of there tomorrow evening. The timing should be perfect."

"Perfect?"

--"Yeah, just before you board your flight to London, give Marks a call. Tell him you got his daughter and you're coming home, but don't tell him how. Hopefully Basayev will be going crazy because you missed your appointment to pick up the forged documents in Tbilisi. It could result in some very interesting conversations between the two of them. Conspiracy is as good a charge as any to hang on Marks."

Just after lunch that afternoon, Nika and I were on the road to Yerevan, Armenia. As we cleared Tbilisi, Nika turned to me and sighed.

"At last!"

I assumed she meant that at last we were out of that safe house, away from Gus, and on our way to the U.S. and I agreed.

As the crow flies, the distance between Tbilisi and Yerevan is about 170 kilometers. By road, it's almost 300, and the road isn't that good. The going was slow but steady and the scenery was spectacular, especially if a person likes rocks. Armenia must be one of the rockiest places on earth.

To pass the time, Nika and I talked, trading stories about our lives and experiences. I learned that she was an only child, that her father is a very high-ranking military man and that she had traveled all over Russia, Eastern Europe and the U.S. when she was young. She had not only gone to high school in Virginia, but when her father was transferred back to Russia from his tour in D.C., she had stayed on in the U.S. for another two years to complete her undergraduate degree at Georgetown University.

She'd almost married her American boyfriend, but they'd broken it off during the last half of her senior year when it became clear that she wanted to live in Russia and he did not. She'd returned to Russia and gotten her degree in international and constitutional law, and had just taken her first job when she was asked to volunteer for this mission. She was just twenty-four and a rising star in the new Russian bureaucracy, but she wanted to prove that she was worthy of bigger responsibilities because of her own abilities and not her father's connections.

She found herself caught between two cultures. She was intensely loyal to her Russian heritage and saw her future in Russia, but she'd spent too many of her formative years in the U.S. Her way of thinking was too American and it frequently clashed with the Russian mind-set of her friends and co-workers. She admitted that her love life sucked. In her words:

"Russian men just don't get it. I've dated lots of them, but they all want to treat me like property."

"Lots of American men are assholes too." I suggested.

"Yeah, that's true." She laughed. "But I think American women have them straightened out on the equality thing. At least American men are equal-opportunity assholes."

"Well Nika, I guess you'll just have to find an American man who'll live in Russia."

"I've been looking." She agreed.