Olga's grey 2006 Volga (acquired in Petersburg in Natasha Leonova's name) parked in front of the Embassy: It was not uncommon for Gazprom executives to have regular business with the Russian Government through its diplomatic staff. Her presence had no reason to be suspicious.
She presented her credentials at the entrance, and her fake appointment with an Embassy Secretary. Once checked, there was no further questioning: Natasha Dmitrevna Leonova's business was legit, as far as the staff was concerned. She took her gloves off and tucked them in a pocket, then walked straight towards the 209 office.
Once there, she closed the door behind her, then saluted the Station Chief. "Kapitan Olga Voerman reporting for duty, sir.", she said.
You exist because we allow it and you will end because we demand it.The KGB agents watching the Russians weren't really paying attention to the dusty Škoda 100 bumping down the street in front of the embassy buildings. Some farmer lost on their big visit to the capital no doubt. Therefore they were caught somewhat unawares when it signaled to turn into the gates they were watching, causing a scramble for the cameras.
G.A. Solovyov smirked at the sight in her carefully adjusted mirror, as sunlight glinted off a telephoto lens. They never seemed to suspect that a Russian official would be driving such an old, worn out car. Apparently, they thought the government handed out shiny new sedans to all comers. Well, not the Ministry of Agriculture. And those only loosely working for them. To Gennadiya's way of thinking it was all for the better, certainly helped her fit in with her fellow employees. Stopping at the gate, she was quick with the Rosselkhoznadzor ID badge. While the gate guard examined it she offered, "I have an appointment with the agricultural attache."
"Veterinary and phytosanitary surveillance?" he asked, incredulous.
"Yeah," she gave the guard her best weary 'I get that a lot' smile, "Plant and animal disease monitoring plus control. Quarantines an' stuff."
"Oh," he pressed the button to open the gate, quite clearly having learned more then he intended, "Have a nice day Ms. Solovyov"
Office 209, 209, 209. She had concluded her legitimate business with the agricultural attache quickly before proceeding to the SVR station chief's office. Coming across the door suddenly, she knocked twice, then opened the door.
edited 20th Aug '11 4:28:05 PM by hotelkilo
Let God do His work, we will see to ours. Bring in the candles.Ushakov nodded as the two entered. "Good. Let's get down to business." he said. He handed each of them a file, market TOP SECRET. "I do not know if Moscow Centre briefed you on what you are doing here, so this is the case file." He paused, allowing the two to open the folders and begin reading.
"We intercepted a series of communications referring to Operation Koschei. It began development a week or two ago, and is scheduled to finish later this year. We know that it is targeting Russia, but how we don't know yet. It is your job to gather information on Koschei and shut it down if possible. I've attached a list of persons of interest at the moment. You have the authority to expand this list when you see fit."
The first page of the dossier was simply summarizing the outline of the case, as Ushakov had done. The second and third pages listed the emails that had been intercepted and decrypted, providing the primary sources for the dossier. The fourth and final page listed a set of names and basic descriptions.
- Fedorov, Ivan: Sent the emails. Answers directly to Lukashenko.
- Demidov, Petr: Recieved the emails. Heads Operation Koschei. Answers to Fedorov.
- Vasiliev, Yuri: Unknown. Answers to Demidov.
edited 20th Aug '11 3:32:04 PM by Wysp
"Your mission is not to nuke the squid god." —FaramirOlga smirked: "The obvious course of action is to find, capture and interrogate that Yuri.", Olga said. "If we could frame Langley for the disappearance, the op wouldn't bring much heat on us."
edited 20th Aug '11 4:02:19 PM by SavageHeathen
You exist because we allow it and you will end because we demand it."Mm. II Main Directorate briefed me, in general," Gennadiya murmured, actually speaking for the first time in the presence of the station chief. She flipped through the thin dossier completely before looking up at the SVR agent. This was why she liked working solo; no chance of getting some yahoo who still thought the Cold War was still on to work directly with. Adjusting her glasses, an affectation adopted to make her seem more of an intellectual, the girl raised an eyebrow in surprise.
Keeping her voice hushed, she said, "I don't think Mr. Ushakov asked for our opinions yet ma'am."
edited 20th Aug '11 5:37:07 PM by hotelkilo
Let God do His work, we will see to ours. Bring in the candles.Ushakov waved his hand.
"I have been ordered to ensure the mission's success. You are the ones who will be executing it. You may go about it however you want, as long as it gets the job done." He leaned forward, eyes boring into them. "However, there is one caveat. If you compromise Station Minsk, you will wish you had never heard of Andrei Ushakov. Understood?"
"Your mission is not to nuke the squid god." —Faramir"Who?" she asked dryly.
It was going to be tough getting used to routinely answering to in country supervisors, instead of Moscow or the nearest theatre intel officer. With those words, however, Gennadiya blinked a few times at Voerman; damned if the other woman did outrank her, they weren't in uniform, "There's no need to pin any blame on the Americans. Much less abduct a player so early on. Especially if we're picking up their e-mails. In my opinion."
Let God do His work, we will see to ours. Bring in the candles.Olga politely nodded at the Chief: "Yes, sir." Then she gave Genna a long, cold stare... "Arguing with a superior in the presence of your Station Chief is unprofessional, Lieutenant.", she said dryly. That being said, she relaxed a bit. Pulling rank any further would be petty. "Your objection is noted. A subtler approach might be convenient.", she conceded. "Any ideas, Lieutenant?"
edited 20th Aug '11 5:57:37 PM by SavageHeathen
You exist because we allow it and you will end because we demand it.The emails were fairly straightforward.
Mr. Demidov,
You are instructed to begin studying possible avenues of attack for Koschei. Emphasis must be put on maximum damage to Russian assets—all other damage is secondary. In addition, you are to begin constructing Koschei's skeleton for testing before its deployment. This order comes directly from President Lukashenko. I do not have to warn you of the consequences of failure.
Best of luck, Ivan Fedorov
Mr. Fedorov,
I will prepare a report analyzing avenues of attack and submit it to you as soon as possible. I will have to double-check with Yuri, but a workable prototype for Koschei should be available for testing by the end of the month. The report will be on your desk sooner, but I cannot provide full details without knowing the specific form that Koschei takes.
Sincerely, Petr Demidov
Yuri,
The order has come down to begin work on Koschei. How soon can you provide a prototype for testing?
We can get you the basic framework in three weeks. Anything more complicated than the basic operations will take longer.
Yuri, Thank you for the information. Please contact me when you have more.
Mr. Fedorov,
Yuri tells me that his team can deliver a skeletal prototype in three weeks. I hope this is an acceptable time frame for your plans.
Sincerely, Petr Demidov
Mr. Demidov,
This is an acceptable time frame. Time is on our side, after all. Do not feel rushed—haste will result in sloppy mistakes. That will cost you more than displeasing me.
Report back when you have more to provide.
Best of luck, Ivan Fedorov
"Your station chief as well, Captain-Lieutenant," Gennadiya reminded her quietly; something about field grade made officers, er, her fellow officers forget that when working for a civilian agency they weren't on active duty. Whatever. If Voerman wanted to pull rank, let her, she thought. Even if she was a gung ho twit. She flipped through the pages again. She couldn't fault the SVR's initial conclusion; it did appear to be some sort of military system. Which meant that they had dropped the ball. Not a pleasant piece for her first report to be sure. That was a concern for later, when she didn't have to try and salvage something from this.
"Nothing narrows it down to vehicle, ma'am. The terms their using could easily apply to an artillery piece or an aircraft or some kind of ordnance. Possibly chemical or biological," she closed the folder, sticking it under her arm. Turning her attention to Ushakov, she looked the SVR man straight in the eyes. She was about to ask a stupid question so Gennadiya had to show no fear, "Sir, do you have an leads on who these men are, or where the messages originated? Any names match with known government or industrial figures?"
edited 20th Aug '11 7:20:08 PM by hotelkilo
Let God do His work, we will see to ours. Bring in the candles.Olga chuckled, once.
"Ordnance doesn't have anything more than basic operations: That is, hitting the target and exploding.", she said. "Same goes for artillery... But it well might be an aircraft, Lieutenant."
edited 20th Aug '11 7:25:11 PM by SavageHeathen
You exist because we allow it and you will end because we demand it."If we knew who these men were, we would have included their files in your dossier." Ushakov said. "Belarus is relatively unimportant to global politics and thus the Kremlin has not paid it much attention. However, the one named Ivan Fedorov has close ties to Alexander Lukashenko, enough so to convey his direct orders for a secret project. Identify him and you know the ring leader." He gestured to the dossiers. "Keep those. Expand on them to keep track of everything you know."
"Your mission is not to nuke the squid god." —FaramirOlga logged her corporate Blackberry inside the Embassy's secure network. She then messaged her contacts at RIA Novosti and all the major press outlets in Moscow:
"Urgent: I need any information you might have about Ivan Fedorov. The man is an insider of the Lukashenko regime, part of his inner circle. What've we got about him? Thanks in advance, Voerman.", the message said.
"Well, let's see what the news agencies back at Russia have on the guy. It's a safe move, and any intel we gain is a plus."
edited 20th Aug '11 7:55:42 PM by SavageHeathen
You exist because we allow it and you will end because we demand it."Of course sir, I had to ask though," Gennadiya hung her head; obvious questions got obvious answers. Ushakov was right though, the man in charge had to be close enough to the President to be in routine communications. Which narrowed their scope of investigation, she thought, hopefully she would be able to handle those on the military side of things, "Considering how close he must be to the President he shouldn't be too difficult to identify. Maybe not in the press, but a few discrete questions at the city library or with some contacts I have may yield positive results."
Not looking up from examining her chest, she sighed; didn't they teach them anything at the service academies today? Gennadiya muttered, "Do you know how many steps are involved in a simple functioning nuclear bomb, Captain-Lieutenant? Much less the different mechanisms that must function to create a deployable chemical or biological weapon, not even counting a delivery system... though they do have a brigade of Tochka's already..."
edited 20th Aug '11 8:03:28 PM by hotelkilo
Let God do His work, we will see to ours. Bring in the candles.Surprisingly, the reply did not take long to return.
Don't recognize the name, and db search doesn't give me anything. Wish I could help more.
"If you will excuse me, ladies, I have some other work to attend to." Ushakov said, gesturing to his desk. "Try not to raise any rumors or attention on the way out."
"Your mission is not to nuke the squid god." —FaramirOlga groaned when her search gathered no intel at all. She was puzzled by the swift reply: A corporate Blackberry inside a secure network, using encrypted communications... It'd be hard to intercept, that's for sure. It was probably coincidence. Still, it raised some red flags.
"Damn, there's no intel on that guy at all: Well, not on the Russian press.", she said. "We'll have to leave separately.", she said. "Contact me only through secure channels.", she told Genna.
She then put her gloves and hat on and left. She got aboard her Volga and went home.
edited 20th Aug '11 8:28:26 PM by SavageHeathen
You exist because we allow it and you will end because we demand it."Well. Um. Okay. Good after...noon..." Gennadiya was left standing alone outside the office door as the SVR agents hurried off to be about their business. She'd been hoping to do a little more, you know, planning with her counterpart. Or actual work. Of course her cover was as an agent of a commercial interest so she didn't have quite the excuse to hang around the embassy. Which reminded her; the attache should have made her hotel reservations for the night by now...
Let God do His work, we will see to ours. Bring in the candles.Olga had things to plan with Genna. Still, leaving together from the embassy would have been very suspicious: Each of them, or both, could already be under surveillance... Meeting would be quite risky, but she had the perfect cover.
After all, she was bi, and a habitual patron of the Babylon, a gay bar: Her meeting Genna there wouldn't be particularly suspicious. Them continuing their conversation at either of their apartments wouldn't be exactly unusual either.
Genna received a text message: "Babylon. 1800. Natasha."
She'd spent the day anonymously surfing the web through a Russian proxy: She scoured the 'net for anything she could find about the three suspects, Koschei in fiction, and she searched several leak sites (liveleaks, wikileaks, etc) for any and all Belarussian documents featuring two or more of the names or Koschei.
At 1730, she got up and headed for the bar, dressed as usual.
edited 21st Aug '11 5:52:36 PM by SavageHeathen
You exist because we allow it and you will end because we demand it.James put his passport back in his jacket pocket and noddd to the Marine on gate duty as he let him in; after one hell of a plane ride, he was finally in Belaus. He readjusted his leather jacket -an old keep sake his mother had given him- and stretched his arms above his head. A dozen plus hours in busniess class, and he was just getting he feling back in his legs, making his way to the upper leevls of the embasy, he began to menatlly prepare himself for his ncontr.
People on the farm spoke highly of Station Chief Clark; apparently he had be involved in some high profile missions during his day and James was glad to be working with somebody with field experience
He made his way o Clark's office and knocked on the door.
Olga had no luck with the leak sites—they were filled with irrelevant documents that were no doubt already filed in the SVR's archives. The name 'Koschei' did not appear in any of them, let alone in connection to Belarus. None of the names mentioned in the emails popped up wither. Whatever Koschei was, Belarus was guarding it with everything the nation had.
~+~
"Come in." Said Clark's voice. James stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Clark gestured to a chair on the opposite side of his desk. "Please, sit." He said. When James did so, Clark handed him a dossier.
"A week ago, Russian intelligence intercepted a communique from somewhere in Belarus." He said. "We haven't been able to find out what was in that message, but whatever it is, it's got them spooked. The SVR borrowed an agent from the GRU, one Gennadiya Solovyov, to send on this mission. In addition, they sent one of their own, a woman by the name of Olga Voerman. We've collected a small dossier on each of them for you. They arrived in Minsk a few hours ago to begin their mission. We don't know what's got the Russians so spooked, but it's your job to find out. Feel free to keep that dossier and expand on it."
A picture of each of the agents was attached to their files.
- Age: 31
- Personality: Possible psychopathy, definite amorality. Skilled acting.
- Service History: Unknown. Records suggest she is a relatively inexperienced recruit.
- Personal History: Navy brat. Studied at Petrograd Naval Academy. Currently holds rank of Captain.
Gennadiya Alekseyovna Solovyov
- Age: 28
- Personality: Possible psychological issues stemming from orphan childhood. Observant, introverted. Difficult to perturb.
- Service History: Posted in Ukraine, Georgia. No major cases, possible peripheral intelligence collection unknown.
- Personal History: Orphaned early in life. Worked on family farm for unknown amount of time until joining the army. Served in several roles in Russian military, most notably recovering lost or stolen items for fellow soldiers as a hobby.
"When I read through that it looks like the setup for a buddy cop movie." Clark commented. "One is an amoral psychopath. The other is a thoughtful soldier. Together, they fight crime!" He laughed for a moment, then allowed James to go back to reading.
"Your mission is not to nuke the squid god." —FaramirGennadiya was still wrapped up in small talk with a few other Ministry employees she'd run across in the attache's anteroom when she received a text. To tell the truth, she wasn't sure who it was (or that her phone could even get texts) until she opened it. Presumably since it was about a meeting, it was her erstwhile counterpart. However the meaning of 'Babylon' was lost on her; excusing herself to awkwardly tap away on the phone's numberpad Gennadiya formulated a response: Iraq too far. Suggest somewhere in Minsk. N.G.S.
"Ah! Nonna Gennadyovna!" something about the post of 'Agricultural attache' seemed to breed jolly red faced men even more then other posts in the Russian civil service. Vasily Cherenkov had finally finished his conference call to wade into his subordinates to re-greet the field agent. Gennadiya slipped her phone into a handy coat pocket in time to be slammed on the back. Wincing, she accepted the man's hand again. Handing over a note card, he smiled, "I didn't mean to interrupt you, but I managed to get you a room at room at Hotel Belarus for a few days! So enjoy yourself on our ticket before Moscow sends you back out into the mud, alright?"
"I'll, uh, try Mr. Cherenkov. I appreciate your kindness," she responded with a faint smile; it certainly would be a change from a sleeping bag in the back seat. Now, to figure out what to do about meeting up with Voerman that didn't involve changing continents.
edited 21st Aug '11 8:49:53 PM by hotelkilo
Let God do His work, we will see to ours. Bring in the candles.Olga texted back the actual address of the club. It shouldn't be too hard to find:
At any rate, Genna's delay gave her time for a drink, so he had a caipirinha, and talked for a while with Ivan, one of the bartenders.
edited 22nd Aug '11 3:39:35 AM by SavageHeathen
You exist because we allow it and you will end because we demand it.

Discussion topic here.
Sign up topic here.
The Russian Federation Embassy in Minsk was a fortress under siege. Few realized it, and no one talked about it. It was always watched by the Belarusian KGB, and extensive logs were kept about the people who passed through its doors. The order had come down directly from Lukashenko himself, only two short weeks ago. He had ordered that every resource available should be directed toward hunting down SVR spies that might attempt to enter the country.
Every face that entered the building was cataloged and cross-referenced to produce a file on that person. Some were as thin as two or three pages, while others grew thick quickly. The stacks of files themselves grew rapidly, as the Russian embassy was decently busy for Minsk business hours. At night, police often found their beat taking them several times past the embassy, and suspected troublemakers around the embassy at night often found themselves beaten.
Inside the embassy, Andrei Ushakov sat at his desk, in his private office. His position in the embassy was a secret he jealously guarded, and those who found out without his permission often ended up having a long talk with him in his private office. Those who intended to reveal his position often ended up missing. The office itself had taken on an air of mystery, and was known colloquially as "the haunted Office 209." Supposedly, the previous Station Chief had been murdered in his own office and now haunted it, seeking revenge. A common jest was that a spy-check would consist of throwing all the embassy staff into the office one by one and seeing which ones died the next week.
Ushakov despised these rumours, as the thought of ghosts was ridiculous. His predecessor had been transferred out to Station Bejing, not killed, so there was no basis anyway. However, he exploited his office's reputation to its fullest and made a habit of hunting down and killing known infiltrators. Typically after they'd told him all they knew. Today, however, he wouldn't be hunting spies—he'd be dispatching his own. Orders had come down from Moscow Centre to investigate something codenamed "Operation Koschei", based here in Minsk and aimed at Russia. Communist or capitalist, Ushakov didn't take kindly to threats to his motherland, and ensured Moscow Centre that all his resources would be dedicated to finding and squashing this operation. He had requested more agents, but the Centre had only been able to give him two: Gennadiya Solovyov, on loan from the GRU, and Olga Voerman. The spymaster looked down at the two files on his desk, reviewing their credentials.
Voerman was relatively inexperienced, it seemed. There was little black ink on her file and it was fairly short—she'd served several years in the military, and her skillset, combined with her loyalty to Russia, had caused the SVR to take note of her and recruit her. This would be her first large case.
Solovyov was a slightly more encouraging case. Her psyche evaluation noted that she had abandonment issues, but her experience in finding things others had stolen or lost proved useful for the GRU. She had more experience than Voerman, but not by much.
I hope they don't expect me to play gentle with them. Ushakov thought to himself, then checked the clock. They would be arriving any minute now.
~+~
Arthur Clark shuffled through the papers on his desk. Part of his cover as an attache required that he actually do paperwork relegated to attaches, although he ensured that it did not get mixed up with paperwork from his real job. Such a thing came with the relatively small size of the embassy staff. He had a small office, but it was granted due to the fact that he held a slightly higher security clearance than other attaches and therefore was given most of the classified paperwork. It held a safe behind a bookshelf, but he'd had another one installed in the floor by CIA contractors. the first was for embassy business (which the Company often got a copy of when Clark deemed it important, and a summary when he didn't), and the second was for Company business. At the moment the floor safe had one document removed from it and sitting in front of Clark's desk computer, open to the cover page.
James Prideaux was an ex-Ranger, well traveled and familiar with places and cultures across the globe. He had been scarred during a deployment to Iraq when his convoy had been hit by an IED in the middle of nowhere and attacked. He had only recently joined the Company, and this was to be his first case, one that Langley felt to be sufficiently low-intensity enough to ease the new kid into the lifestyle. He checked the clock on his computer—the kid would be arriving any time now.
edited 20th Aug '11 7:37:16 PM by Wysp
"Your mission is not to nuke the squid god." —Faramir