Arnold Gorman

• CIA Analyst
• contact of Dot.

Donald Carroll

 

• American born Russian citizen, based in Crimea. 
• He was an information library for those who could afford his knowledge.
• Carrol sold to everyone, Russians, Americans, Ukrainians, however he was trusted by no one.
• Carrol was based in Sevastopol, now since a few months under Russian control again.
• Carrol was known as an expert on the Geopolitical situation, a good friend to have for strangers in the region.

Meeting up with him resulting in some kind of cooperation offered by Caroll:

• his current interest being missing shipments of arms that are disappearing once they arrive from the port of Samsun in Turkey to Odessa. 
• His man on the ground in Odessa was recently discovered with his insides professionally put on his outside. 
• Carrol needed men with skills to track the arms once they land in Odessa to where they are being delivered. 
• The arms are trackable only at short range with radio frequency tracking devices installed. 
• Sharing his knowledge of Russian smugglers doing most of the heavy lifting, the tight knit crews of the freighters carrying the arms would be impossible to infiltrate, offering the support he could by way of alternative transportation to Odessa.

Danilo Brigovic

•  Head of the Nasa Stvar (Serbian Maffia) operation in Belgrade.
• Killed in Sevastopol, at the hands of Doctor Dorjiev

The Collector

•  A man sent by Danilo Brigovic to collect the laptop and deliver the money
• "The driver, at least six foot and built like someone you would not be surprised to see in a Mr Universe competition, exited the vehicle. Dressed in full military fatigues, heavy armor, balaclava and combat boots. In his chest rig holster, a huge pistol, the Russian Rsh-12, the revolver designed to fire heavy rifle cartridges, a large combat blade strapped to his thigh."

Chapter 2 - Bullets, Bluffs and Burgers

As the two cars began their ascent up the hill towards Dot and L’Eboueur, Dot immediately pulled out his phone to call the Belgrade number in the hopes of speaking directly to Anton in the BMW. The phone call was brief, the standard, ‘Who is this?” before the line went dead. 

The two cars stopped roughly 50 meters from where the two had positioned themselves, although now sighting the dangerous reflection, if only for a moment, the two had taken up a position placing their vehicle between them and the potential sniper.

The lead vehicle, a Jeep not unlike that belonging to Dot and L’Eboueur, flung open its doors to reveal four men exiting, two brandishing modern assault rifles, the newer AK-101. The driver and passenger both exposed what appeared to be CZ-99, 9mm handguns. The four men were relaxed in appearance, these types of exchanges must have been common to them based on their behaviour, casually lighting cigarettes and talking amongst themselves.

The doors of the BMW behind the Jeep also opened, Anton and what looked like a bodyguard exiting the vehicle. As Dot and L’Eboueur observed, Anton pulled out a phone and began dialling.

Dot’s phone rang, the exchange was even briefer than the call to Belgrade, Anton asking about the location of the laptop, Dot asking if the sniper belonged to him. As if the question sparked a mix of panic and frustration, Anton hung up the phone, reached into the BMW and started waving a backpack around at the two men up the hill.

L’Eboueur was getting impatient, waving his arm for them to walk up the hill, still gripping his AK-47 in his primary hand. After watching some exchanging of words, the two were shocked that one of the men in the group of four began trudging up the hill, pistol in hand and cigarette still hanging from his mouth.

Both L’Eboueur and Dot were wary of the man who approached them, clearly out of breath from his brief walk up the hill; he demanded they come down to collect the money. Both Dot and L’Eboueur refused, demanding that one of them bring the money for the laptop. After a few moments of raised voices leading nowhere, the man began his trudge down the hill, both Dot and L’Eboueur doing their best to remain as shielded from the sniper's position as possible.

As the man spoke to Anton upon reaching the two vehicles, Anton began motioning violently for the two to walk down the hill.

L’Eboueur and Dot looked at each other with similar expressions, as if thinking the same thing, Dot opened the rear door of their Jeep, leaving it open as he sat with one leg in, one leg out, his submachine gun across his chest. L’Eboueur climbed in the driver’s seat, also with his door ajar, his AK-47 braced against the rear view mirror. The Jeep came to life and began a slow drive, almost a roll down the hill towards the two parked cars.

A flurry of panic came over the men standing at the front Jeep, not knowing how to respond. The speed of the oncoming vehicle was in no way a threat, just an unexpected response, L’Eboueur constantly looking at his surroundings found what appeared to be a perfect place, roughly 20 meters from the two vehicles, a large mausoleum blocking the view from where the two had noticed the potential sniper. Bringing the Jeep to a halt, L’Eboueur exited the driver’s door, Dot remaining where he sat, ready to move should anything untoward take place.

Anton waddled forward, exposing a stack of money in the backpack he still had in hand, shouting to see the laptop. Dot leaned across the car, grabbing the laptop from the back seat and showing it to Anton. At the sight of his prize, Anton became even louder in his verbalisation, shouting and demanding the laptop, L’Eboueur responded, also demanding the money.

Dot could see that something was not right with Anton, he seemed ill, bloated, wheezy, red rashes appearing from the collar of his shirt and from under his sleeves every time he choked out expressions of anger.

Anton’s patience had run out, stumbling backwards as he gave the order for his men to open fire. The back and forth shouting of Anton and L’Eboueur ended quickly as Anton gave the order, L’Eboueur was the first to respond, his AK barking to life as he had already chosen his targets.

Within seconds, the two men armed with assault rifles who were standing by the front Jeep were cut to pieces, glass shattering as clouds of red mist exploded from their backs as the 7.62 rounds cut straight through them.

Dot dove into his Jeep, scrambling to the driver’s seat as the slightly less audible sound of the 9mm handguns fired in the direction of L’Eboueur, clipping the door near his arms and head, forcing him to pause ever so briefly.

Anton’s bodyguard also stepped from the BMW, also firing at L’Eboueur, the familiar whistle of high speed projectiles sounding in his ear as he felt his hair blow with the proximity of the missed shot. Turning his AK towards the bodyguard, L’Eboueur let out another burst, watching the bodyguard recoil as the bullets slammed into him through the BMW door that he was trying to take cover behind.

Dot slammed his foot against the accelerator, his Jeep bucking forward towards the parked cars, in a panic at the oncoming vehicle, one of the men using it for cover dove away into the brown grass of the cemetery. As the two vehicles collided, the driver of the parked Jeep had been using the door as cover, a fatal error as the impact forced the door to close on him, bashing him to the ground while the car rolled backwards, over his waist, his gurgles of pain silent as the air was knocked from his lungs.

L’Eboueur was in the open, the mausoleum still shielding him from the sniper, he steadily marched towards the three vehicles now in front of him, the BMW his primary target as he watched Anton stumble in his attempts to reach it. The driver of the BMW, who was yet to appear outside the car had responded well to the sudden change in events, able to reverse the BMS just enough to avoid the oncoming collateral collision.

Noticing that the BMW was being primed for escape, L’Eboueur let out a hail of bullets at the bonnet of the car and let his recoil rise towards the driver.

Dot shook off the impact trauma of the collision, taking his pistol from its holster and looking for the man who dove out of the way. He was on all fours, crawling towards the AK-101 that had been dropped by his former associate. Dot quickly fired at him, almost too soon, his two shots kicking up dust in the man’s face as the bullets landed right in front of his head.

The man grabbed the rifle and immediately sprayed wildly at the figure marching down the hill with the assault rifle blazing.

Dot paused for the slightest of moments, letting the last daze of the impact leave him before firing again, two more shots grouped at the base of the man’s skull, leaving a pattern of blood around his neck like an exploded water balloon.

Anton had reached the BMW, desperately trying to climb into the back seat. His bodyguard, while not dead, was sitting in the front passenger seat, blood flowing from his mouth as he raised his pistol towards L’Eboueur who was almost on top of them.

Without pause, L’Eboueur sprayed the front seats of the BMW through the windshield as he strode up the bonnet, raking the driver in broken glass and bullets. The bodyguard managed a single shot that grazed L’Eboueur’s hip, barely a scratch before he too was almost cut in half.

Dot appeared at the side of the BMW, watching Anton who was still yet to fully enter the car, his legs out one side, his head and torso laying across the backseat. A curious sight as Dot could see the seat was covered in some form of wild roses, as if there was once a large bundle that had been strewn everywhere. L’Eboueur appeared behind Anton, demanding he exit the car.

Dot could see him reaching for something, the glint of a nickel plated pistol catching his eye. Again Dot’s shot missed his target, his bullet slamming into the rear seat, mere millimeters from Anton’s nose. L’Eboueur knew too well that Dot would not have fired without reason, he himself emptying the last six rounds of his magazine into Anton who fell flat across the back seat.

L’Eboueur and Dot met each other's gaze, Dot stating only a time, 15 seconds. L’Eboueur rushed to the mangled Jeep, grabbing anything that looked useful, arms, ammunition, anything he could use. Dot also reacted quickly, scooping up the bag of money Anton had dropped after scanning the interior of the BMW.

15 seconds later, their Jeep roared to life as L’Eboueur did his best to drive controlled, yet wild enough for the sniper to have major difficulty.

*

Dot pulled his phone from his pocket as L’Eboueur sped away in the direction of Sarajevo, Rudek’s voice was reserved as it came down the line. Dot cancelled his request for additional men, explaining that he was done accepting jobs from Rudek before hanging up the phone abruptly.

L’Eboueur and Dot exchanged frustrated comments and frustrations in the car before coming up with a plan. They would head to Zepa, a town on the way to Sarajevo, dump the Jeep, gear and everything not essential, steal a vehicle for the remainder of the trip to Sarajevo and book flights to wherever they wanted to go in order to disappear.

The switch had been quick, the two men now driving towards Sarajevo in an old Yugo beater, their packs, sidearms, laptop bag and what they discovered was a pack full of newspaper with a few Euros over the top was all that was in the car.

Dot’s phone began ringing again, he refused to answer. On the third attempt he answered with an angered tone. Whoever it was on the line, they were angry, Serbian, and clearly someone higher up the food chain than Anton. Putting the phone on speaker, the voice demanded that the laptop be delivered to Belgrade and that Anton had gone rogue, L’Eboueur scoffed back, refusing any such order, Dot was far more reserved, not agreeing to the task, but not disagreeing either before hanging up the phone.

The phone rang again as the Fiat pulled into a small hotel on the outskirts of Sarajevo, Rudek’s voice was far more staggered than usual. He had received a similar call, Rudek explained that there was not going to be a Belgrade meet. He had negotiated the same location, only not in the cemetery, in a warehouse, no open ground and that Dot and L’Eboueur would set the time. 

Rudek wanted to remain professional, explaining that the only reason the voice was willing to deal was that it was his own man Anton to blame, everything else had gone to plan. After taking time to distress, drink and recover from the events of the past hours, L’Eboueur and Dot agreed to the second meeting, Rudek informing them that he would be sending two additional men for support, they just needed to know when and where to pick up Dot and L’Eboueur.

Time had dissolved into a series of moments rather than hours, looking at the clock in their hotel room, the two noticed it had only just gone 1pm. Dot had finished pulling the shards of glass from L’Eboueur’s shoulder and cleaned his hip wound as if it never happened. L’Eboueur was growing more and more frustrated, wanting the job to just be done. He didn’t want to wait, arguing with Dot about the option for surveillance and planning. Not willing to get caught up in the argument with a man who had just shredded five men, Dot agreed and sent a text to Rudek to get his men to pick them up at 2pm.

The car was standard, a dark Sedan, two men inside. L’Eboueur signaled first, announcing his presence to them, entering the back seat and guiding them around the back of the hotel where Dot was waiting in case anything had gone sour. L’Eboueur nodded to Dot that it was safe to enter before the four men drove away in the direction of Zepa.

The drive felt like an eternity to all occupants of the car, the two Serbian men in the front seat speaking to each other freely, but showing clear signs of nervousness. Dot did his best to assure them that they would be safe after discovering that they spoke English, the two men advising that their stress came from not making it home alive. After a few minutes of conversation with Dot, one of them seemed slightly more at ease, the other remaining dubious. 

The familiar view of Srebrenica opened up ahead of the car, Dot and L’Eboueur both felt themselves shift in their seats out of tension. The car approached the coordinates given to them by Rudek for the new exchange, the warehouse was large and plain, mostly stripped of anything valuable, leaving rusted vehicles and burnt timber across the main floor. Dot and L’Eboueur walked the perimeter, taking note of any possible threat, both agreeing that they would not set a time until they were convinced they were not walking into another ambush. It took some time, but they were convinced. They opened the trunk of the sedan to find assorted small arms, one assault rifle, a pair of sub machine guns and light body armor.

It was agreed that the two Serbian men would remain as purely support, one would take the rifle and head upstairs to the office that overlooked what was once the factory floor. The other would remain inside the main door, but off to the side and out of view with a submachine gun. Dot held the laptop while L’Eboueur took the other submachine gun as they would be the only ones in view of whatever was coming their way.

Dot called the number in his phone that had called previously, advising that the exchange was to happen at 7pm, an hour from the time of the call. The voice on the other ned of the line advised he will be sending one man with the money.

As time ticked closer to 7pm, a single car approached the warehouse, a black sedan, driving cautiously and in no way threatening. The Sedan came to a stop a couple of meters from the main roller door of the warehouse where it had a clear view of the car Dot and L’Eboueur had arrived in, pointed directly back at the main door. Dot was leaning against a rusted tractor, his hand oh his pistol that was tucked away in his back. L’Eboueur was leaning against the car, his submachine gun on display as to appear the main threat.

The driver’s side door of the black sedan opened, the entire car lifted as the weight of the driver stepped out. The driver, at least six foot and built like someone you would not be surprised to see in a Mr Universe competition, exited the vehicle. Dressed in full military fatigues, heavy armour, balaclava and combat boots. In his chest rig holster, a huge pistol, the Russian Rsh-12, the revolver designed to fire heavy rifle cartridges, a large combat blade strapped to his thigh. 

The monster of a man made all of his moves slow and intentional, taking the bag of money from his car, taking slow and purposeful steps towards L’Eboueur and Dot. L’Eboueur moved first, his submachine draped across his chest, ready to be raised at a glance. As the two came within 5 meters of each other, the large man raised his hand to signal for them to stop. Dot also approached, placed the laptop on the ground and stood back, waiting for a response. The large man threw the bag of money at Dot’s feet before picking up the laptop bag. His eyes met with L’Eboueur who couldn’t help but squint, the eyes he was looking at were wrong, there was something off about them that he could not make out clearly. The holes in the balaclava allowing him a clear view, but the failing light of the evening making it more difficult to see.

The large man started the laptop, the standard start-up tone however glitched and seemed to repeat itself for a few moments. Dot could also here his phone at the same time begin to beep repeatedly. The large man closed the laptop, placed it in the back and began taking steps back towards his car before turning and entering his vehicle.

As the sedan took its time to leave, Dot pulled his phone from his pocket, inspecting it to see why it had started beeping at that moment, and stopped when the man stepped away with the laptop. Satisfied that his paranoia was adequate, he pulled the back of his phone off, took the battery out and destroyed every other part of the phone before signalling the two support men to come back to the car.

*

Getting out of Bosnia proved far easier than getting in, once back in Sarajevo, the flights were booked, Charvert flying directly back to Paris, Marek choosing to go a less direct route, opting for a flight to Munich before heading the rest of the way to Poland by land. 

Marek received his package in the mail, the flash drive full of files from Lennart’s computer, he uploaded it to his secure server before concealing it in a safe he had installed behind several layers of wall, something not easily found by even the best of thieves, a place for his most secure of insurance policies from former clients.

Marek got in touch with his old Commander, Jan, a man he could rely on for steady and accurate intelligence. Marek enquired about who was running the criminal elements in Serbia, looking for any information about the voice on the phone that he heard after Anton had been removed. After a day of waiting, Jan returned the call with information on Danilo Brigovic, based in Western Belgrade, a smuggler specializing in drugs, cigarettes and guns, rumoured to be protected by government officials.

An incident like the one encountered in Bosnia, always had fallout and consequences, for Marek and Charvert, it was a decrease in work. Marek’s usually busy schedule or requests dropped by almost 25% overnight, where Charvert’s usual handler, Alex, who would call an average on twice a week, was barely once, and it was usually for  small jobs, nothing like the main stream action he was used to receiving.

After two weeks in Poland, Marek received a  message on his usual online forum, as single line of text, a pathway to a file.

Curious, Marek entered the pathway into all known internet havens for illicit activity, before it dawned on him, this was for the laptop files. A flash of panic struck him, who knew he had a copy? Who was watching? Who could crack his software?

He logged in to his secure network, pasted the pathway into the folder, and waited. The folder had files of manifests, missing shipments of US arms in Iraq and Afghanistan, missing supplies and shipping routes across the Black Sea and Caspian Sea. Personal notations of Brigadier General Lennart regarding references to someone or something with the initials DC. Marek’s first thought, something to do with Washington, however after spending some time reading through the notes left by the General, DC sounded more and more like a person, a source, a fact checker of sorts.

 As the notes from Lennart went on, DC became a name, Donald Carrol, a source for Lennart on his crusade.

Uneasy that someone out there knew he had a coly of the files, Marek couldn’t shake the feeling that this was possibly an invitation from this same source to reach out. Marek could think of nothing else but the interest that his partner in crime on the job, L’Eboueur, he had a keen interest in finding out what was on the laptop. Marek thought it more of an obligation, if they knew he had the data, whoever sent the email would certainly know of the Frenchman’s involvement.

Marek sent an email to the only contact he knew had a direct line to L’Eboueur, a middle man named Alex, inviting his compatriot for coffee in Berlin, a middle ground with no chance of ambush.

*

Charvert’s phone rang loudly, it almost startled him as he relaxed in an armchair after a long day with former acquaintances, doing his best to brush up on his skills regarding silent entry into places he shouldn’t be. Answering it he heard Alex’s voice give him the details of the proposed meeting in Berlin. Apprehensive but itching to get out of the house, Charvert accepted the meeting, wondering to himself why he was being contacted directly, assuming it was some sort of ambush.

The Cafe was busy, a steady flow of pedestrians in an ever flowing motion of random directions, sitting at a table alone, drinking coffee and reading the local newspaper, was his Polish accomplice. Charvert’s monocular not picking up any signs of strange behaviour, ambush, or even alarm. There was Dot, plain as day, in the open, waiting for company. Charvert was pulling the seat out from the table before Marek even noticed him, the pleasantries that were exchanged were social in nature, even if they were under dubious circumstances.

Dot began to explain the series of events regarding the email, his digging into the files and alarm of someone knowing that they had stolen a copy. L’Eboueur was strangely enthusiastic about pursuing the lead. His attitude focussed on finding out more about Donald Carrol and the part he had to play, a curious behaviour in Dot’s eyes for someone of his skill set.

After two espresso and a pretzel, the two decided to spend the night in Berlin, find out what they can and meet at the same place for lunch the next day. A nervous calm between them, both understanding the strange nature of their meeting, but the genuine concern gestured by arranging to meet.

Going through his directory from back during his time with the American’s during the war on Terror, Marek reached out to a fellow analyst he had ties with in the CIA, Arnold Gorman. His call was accepted with a friendly tone, it had been years, but the work done between Marek and Gorman had secured him a promotion within the CIA, something he never forgot.

Gorman sent Marek a packet of information regarding Carrol, an American born Russian citizen, based in Crimea. He was an information library for those who could afford his knowledge.

Carrol sold to everyone, Russians, Americans, Ukrainians, however he was trusted by no one.

It was only earlier in the year that Russia had seized the Crimea again, putting a strain on the region, making information a gold mine for those who took the opportunity. Carrol was that exact type of opportunist. 

Carrol was based in Sevastopol, now back under Russian control. Carrol was known as an expert on the Geopolitical situation, a good friend to have for strangers in the region.

*

Explaining all he had discovery with l’Eboueur, Dot and his accomplice agreed that meeting with Carrol was the best course of action to discover who may be after them, or at the very least, be profiting from it. Marek pulled out his laptop as the two of them ate, emailing the address he had received from Gorman. Imitating contractors with US affiliations ,the email exchange that took place over a very brief 20 minute period had seen both men booked on a flight to Sevastopol the next day.

Dot would use one of his many identities to be best prepared for the region, Florin Balan of Romania, a relatively plain ID to attract minimal attention. l’Eboueur would do the same, Sasha Volkov, a Russian ID he had used only once to get through a border checkpoint in Chechnya which felt to him like a lifetime ago. 

The two of them landed at Sevastopol at 10pm to see a man in a suit holding a card with their names on it. Moving to him calmly, he explained that he was to drive them to their hotel and would pick them up the next day at 12 noon for their meeting with Carrol. Dot and l’Eboueur both were put off guard, it was not something they had experienced before, a driver who was well dressed, climbing into a car that was barely a month old, a Mercedes E350, arriving at accommodation at the Hilton, this all seemed very strange to them both.

Spending the night in five star accommodation can cause many distractions, something Dot and l’Eboueur couldn’t afford, and they knew it. Both men spent the evening eating well and drinking light, waiting to see if someone would come for them in the night.

The morning sun bathed the rooms in a dull glow through the curtains, both men rose to hot showers and fresh coffee before meeting in the dining area for breakfast. Deciding what to with the hours until their scheduled pickup, both men first ate a good breakfast before Dot found an online local retailer of clothes that would be more appropriate for their first meeting with Donald Carrol. This was a freshly capitalist place, the Riviera of the nation, they could not meet Carrol dressed in jeans and polo shirts, more was expected. Arranging for an employee to pick up the order and have it to their rooms by 11am, L’Eboueur used his morning to look into where he may find a willing seller of contraband that he desired, mainly firearms to protect himself if in need to make a quick exit. Dot however spent the rest of his morning scouting out ways to escape, if this beautiful city by the sea turned on them, he needed to know how to get out.

As 11 am arrived, their clothes also came in long plastic covers. By 11:30am, they felt like they had just walked out of a scene from Miami Vice, the summer suits worth more than they were comfortable spending, even on their lucrative incomes.

Exiting the elevator with a few minutes to spare, the driver of the Mercedes spotted the from his seat in the lobby, ushering them to his car that was waiting in the valet zone. The picturesque drive showed them the city and surroundings, lavish homes built on sea side slopes, glass from ceiling to floor mixed with European architecture.

The Mercedes pulled into a large driveway, the tall security gate opening as the car approached, through the gate the car slowly traversed the long driveway, coming to a stop on the circular parking area outside the main entrance. The Driver opened the doors for L’Eboueur and Dot to exit, ushering them through the front doors and across the polished marble floors of the foyer towards large double doors filled with stain glass, a view of the sea beyond. Heading through the doors, the sun bounced off the terracotta outdoor tiles and shimmering of the crystal clear water in the large swimming pool. The smell of meat over hot coals made both Dot and L’Eboueur look around them for the source of the aroma. The driver pointed them towards the far side of the pool, as he turned to head back inside, both Dot and L’Eboueur noticed sidearm appear for an instant under his jacket.

Moving in the direction of the pool, both men immediately caught sight of a stunning blonde woman, her hair catching the sunlight and bouncing off her body that was clad only in a bright bikini. Moving further forward, a large man also became visible standing behind a barbeque, wearing nothing but speedos, his skin was tanned, unnaturally tanned, as though he was fresh out of a tanning salon. He looked at them and only said the word ‘Drinks?’. The bikini-clad woman showed the two men to the outdoor lounges, pouring generous helping of scotch into glasses with mounds of ice. Carrol, the over-tanned host, came to sit with them, asking his apparent love interest to keep an eye on the burgers.

The conversation was full of tests and prompts, Dot opening with how the information they had led them to Carrol. Teasing that the information could only have been obtained through the files of Lennart. Carrol was just as playful, taking every opportunity to bask in his self-made success and the poor budgets of those he sold information to. It was when Carrol wanted to know who the two worked for that he became further curious, he could tell the two men in front of him were not intelligence men, they were something else. As Dot answered without answering, Carrol shifted his gaze back to the meat he was cooking, another single work spoken, ‘Burgers’.

Standing at the barbeque, L’Eboueur took it upon himself to have his own conversation with Carrol. His tone was not aggressive, but direct, discovering that Donald did little more than confirm the suspicions of Lennart, there was not enough money changing hands for Carrol to take the information further.

Piecing together what he was learning about his two guests, Carrol could tell that the reason they had come was a mix of personal and self preservation. Sitting back down at the lounges, the three of them with burgers in hand accompanied by scotch.

Carrol took the lead in the conversation, explaining his interest and role, his current interest being missing shipments of arms that are disappearing once they arrive from the port of Samsun in Turkey to Odessa. His man on the ground in Odessa was recently discovered with his insides professionally put on his outside. Carrol needed men with skills to track the arms once they land in Odessa to where they are being delivered. The arms are trackable only at short range with radio frequency tracking devices installed. Sharing his knowledge of Russian smugglers doing most of the heavy lifting, the tight knit crews of the freighters carrying the arms would be impossible to infiltrate, offering the support he could by way of alternative transportation to Odessa.

Carrol’s deal was simple: he would provide additional information regarding what Lennart was looking into in exchange for first hand intelligence on where the missing shipments of arms were going. A simple exchange of information, however getting out alive would always be at the front of the minds of anyone stupid enough to take on the Russian Mafia running the show.

Carrol’s way in, a friend in the Russian navy, Kostya, able to provide additional men for support and a small navy vessel to deliver them to Odessa.

Agreeing to the exchange, both Dot and L’Eboueur didn’t taste the scotch burn their throats as they gulped it down. Nothing about this was going to be easy, turning to leave, the Driver met them at the door, Carrol had introduced him as Yuri. Driving the two men back to the Hilton, he did not open the doors for them this time, instead handing them a phone each and uttering ‘Dasvidaniya’.

Lennart's Laptop

 

• a large amount of information was compiled on his laptop, covering a lot of classified information:
• Evidence of diverted blood supplies from NATO military medical stocks. 
• Evidence of secret flights out of NATO air bases in Italy or the Balkans. 
• Evidence of a secret death squad operating out of NATO bases. 
• and more, as there is  massive amount of intel on the laptop, which will take weeks or months to trawl through.

Map former Yugoslavia

 

Map Europe

 

Anton Dedopovic

 

• A killer and rapist during the war, after the Dayton Accords he became a big wheel in the Naša Stvar, the Serbian mafia. 
• He is wired a million different ways in Serbia and the Serbian zone of Bosnia
• His main interests are human trafficking and heroin, but he serves as a useful cut-out for any number of operators in the former Yugoslavia. 
• Dedopovic has been seen in Switzerland on more than one occasion, and the word on the street is that he might be trying to use a Swiss clinic or private hospital to set up a heroin ring in that country. 

Brigadier-General Malcolm Lennart

 

• Canadian Air Force
• His expertise is logistics; routing flights and supplies from base to field and vice versa
• Compiled a large amount of information on his laptop, covering a lot of classified information

Chapter 1: A Bad Day in Bosnia

It was the middle of May, 2014, Marek Kaminska was busy at work on his laptop within his apartment in Gdansk, Poland, downloading blueprints from several architectural firms with lousy firewalls to protect their secrets. Often tabbing between pages, the flashes of local Pet Stores also appearing across his screen, the urge to raise a large dog from a pup had gripped his mind for the past week or so after having trouble bypassing some hounds at the Russian Embassy some months ago.

His days when not traveling for work had a similar routine, morning workout, coffee and breakfast in a different location, then planning of new jobs and window shopping for a pet. 

The phone next to the laptop began ringing, Picking it up within two rings, Marek answered with his alias of ‘Dot’, short for Dotyk Cienia, the Shadow Touch, a name he picked up for his ability to pick a lock or pocket without detection from even the most observant target.

A familiar voice came through the line, Georg Rudek, a constant employer, Dot was always his ‘go to’ guy for anything regarding Black Bag operations. The job was explained easily, maximum of two weeks, two man crew with Dot taking the lead and one man as backup. Dot suggested two names for a preferred partner, The Swede and The Garbage Man, two solid guys that he had crossed paths with on a few jobs, both would have his back if it got messy.

Rudek would send through the documents, plane tickets and meeting location via Dot’s preferred set up, public message boards hiding encrypted phrases and links that would lead down a never ending rabbit hole to someone who didn’t know what they were looking for, for Dot, this was his safest means of secure communication. Within Minutes, there it was, plane tickets to Croatia, the flight leaving the next day.

*

Nemours Hiking Loop was always a popular place for those who desired to get away from Paris, Benoit Charvet was no exception. For a hiking trail, this was more like a neighborhood job to Benoit, where others would walk in hours, he would traverse at speed, and for hours, crossing his previous paths and keeping himself alert to changes in terrain. Working up a good sweat, he headed back to his parked Audi RS7, a modest car for someone earning as much as he did.

Stretching for a few moments before entering the driver’s side, he looked at his phone to see two missed calls, an hour apart, Alex, not so much a friend as much as a Handler, a way Benoit used for getting work. He pushed the return call button to hear Alex pick up within three rings.

Alex seemed calm, explaining to Benoit that he had been contacted about a job, a maximum of two weeks in Croatia, purely backup, nothing too serious and potential good money. Benoit gave it some thought before accepting the job, it had been a while since he had been on an easy assignment, thinking to himself that this might be a good way to not have to take responsibility for another person’s mistakes, something that seemed to follow him. Revving his engine, he headed back to Paris, his plan was to pack light and make the trip to Croatia after a full menu of French specialties, his knowledge of Croatian food leaving him wincing.

*

The Flight to Dubrovnik was uncomfortable, Benoit, even though in business class, always felt the air got harder to breathe where death had been a dominant feature of history. Landing with little delay, the address of the Hotel he was instructed to meet the designated contact was only a few minutes away by cab.

He walked through the main entrance at 4:06pm, his meeting scheduled for 5pm. Looking around the foyer, a large cafe to his right, elevators to his left, Benoit could see that this was trying to be more than it was. A mediocre hotel trying its hand at being fancy, it was quaint enough to lure him to the cafe as he sat and observed over the top of yesterday's newspaper all of the comings and goings of the main door.

Dot entered the hotel lobby at 4.32pm. He had walked the perimeter, taking care to scout all exits and access points in case this was not just some simple information gathering exercise. He recognised Benoit immediately, pausing for a moment before heading to the cafe, Dot sat at Benoit’s table, “L'éboueur”, the Garbage man. Both men exchanged looks at each other, both breathing a sigh of relief. Having worked together a handful of times before, they both immediately felt at ease that the other part of the two man team was a familiar and more importantly, proven operator.

Killing time, the two conversed about the last time they saw each other, six months prior in Egypt where the only thing worse than the heat, was the sand.

As the clock struck 4.55pm, the two began to move to the fourth floor, room 472 was the target, Dot leading the with L'éboueur maintaining a five meter gap at all times, both men scanning every corridor.

Knocking on the door to 472, Rudek opened it with a slight smile, ushering the men into the large room. Once drinks had been distributed, Rudek laid everything out. Bringing the two men to the main table where a laptop was set up, folders of files and handwritten notes scattered across the majority of the veneer timber table top. The target was a laptop, a simple retrieval operation. The laptop was in the possession of Brigadier General Malcolm Lennart, a Canadian in charge of logistics at the NATO Base in Sarajevo. He had completed his tour and was returning to Canada on the 22nd of May, five days away.

Rudek explained that the principles behind this operation required the laptop only, no necessary force required, the General takes the computer off base every night, even though it is against procedure. The information given to Rudek suggests that the laptop contained possible ‘under the table’ deals with organized crime and NATO officials.

This triggered a thought in Dot’s mind, it would not be far-fetched to think that the General had stumbled across Serbian War Crimes activity and its connections across the area.

It was made clear that a complete file transfer from the laptop was insufficient. The laptop must be the only copy of the files within. Rudek then explained the details, he had people willing to grease the palms of any potential transportation issues on route to the NATO base at Sarajevo, from there, once the Laptop was in hand, call the number provided, Belgrade prefix, a contact named Anton Dedopovic would provide time for handoff. The location of the exchange was already provided via the GPS coordinates Rudek passed over the Dot.

The fee for the job was standard, 100,000 EU each, half transferred now, the other half cash on delivery. Rudek requested a list of equipment needed as he passed a set of car keys to L'éboueur.

The three men all agreed on the price, however L'éboueur was uncomfortable with their contact. Anton had a reputation, he was connected with Nasa Stvar, the Serbian mafia, a convicted killer and rapist, he was anyone's for a price, rumours of him setting up some sort of Heroin ring in Switzerland in previous months had taken L'éboueur attention at the time.

Both Dot and L'éboueur left the room, heading back downstairs towards the car park in search of the vehicle that had been left for them, outside the hotel and down the street, the familiar sound of a car being unlocked echoed as Eboueur pushed the unlock button on the keys.

A Jeep Cherokee was making the noise, relatively new except for an obvious dent in the rear of the drivers door, otherwise, it seemed in good order. Dot gave it a quick sweep with his scanner to make sure there were no bugs present before they got into the car. They decided to head to a different hotel, some distance from where they had met Rodek. L'éboueur was cautious about vehicles, deciding to take it for a spin before taking it on any sort of long trip, it was going to be a four hour drive at the minimum to reach where they were going.

In the car the two started making a list of equipment, firearms were always a must on a snatch and grab like this, sidearms and sub machine guns were a good start. Dot wrote down a list of equipment, including electronic listening devices, electronic lock breaks and hacking devices, most he had brought with him, but preferred to use local resources to avoid leaving any form of signature.

L'éboueur was more concerned with arming himself, contemplating the need for long arms as well as the basics.

L'éboueur waited in the car as Dot went back to room 472, an envelope containing the list of items required in his hand. He left it on the table for Rudek to find and order, both men aware that timing was crucial.

Retiring for the night at their new hotel, Dot’s phone began to buzz in his pocket. Rudek advised that most equipment would be ready by 8am, the more specialized gear would be coming no later than 10pm.

L'éboueur took this as a sign, the Jeep constantly frustrating him, he decided that while they had to wait, he would get it looked over by a decent mechanic.

As the sky turned black with the late night air, Dot and L'éboueur both checked that the initial deposit from the task at hand had been sent, L'éboueur noticing that the funds had come through from Klopstock and Bilroy, a privately owned bank based out of Hungary. Another memory triggered in his mind, that this bank had been bought by some sort of company in Switzerland and was a possible front for money laundering for the Russian Mafia. Thinking to himself about who his employers might be, he had to stop himself from thinking too hard, realizing that this was the nature of the job, there was no such thing as ‘king and country’ anymore.

*

The morning came quickly, Dot meeting Rudek with bags in hand. Basic equipment for the job, binoculars, evening fatigues, burner phones, standard Glock 19 pistols with spare mags. Rugged and reliable tools of the trade. Rudek advised that the electronic equipment and sub machine guns were on their way, everything will be ready by 10pm.

While Dot was making the pickup, L'éboueur had tracked down a somewhat reputable mechanic, doing his best to ask for a comprehensive service in his best broken English. After a few minutes of confusion, the mechanic seemed to understand and took the keys. Turning from the mechanic, L'éboueur pulled out his phone and began dialling, booking a hotel in Sarajevo for himself and Dot for when they arrived. Their plan, to pick up their gear and be in Sarajevo by 3am.

The day was then filled with checking and rechecking equipment, the occasional nap and the tapping of feet on floor and carpet as the seconds turned into minutes. Dot poured over the flash drive given to him by Rudek, containing the basics of the operation. A dossier on Brigadier General Lennart showed that he was something of a career soldier, a long standing girlfriend being the closest relationship he had. Nothing in his jacket suggested any sort of treason or investigation worthy classification. He seemed clean. The only strange thing within his file, the sudden transfer to Sarajevo, a General should be finishing his command at NATO HQ in Naples, however spending the last five months of a career in Bosnia didn’t seem like an ideal end.

Moving beyond the personal file, satellite photos of the UN base at Sarajevo showed at least 12 different nations with dozens of men on patrol at all times, numerous civilian workers and parking facilities. There was no clean way in or out without going through checkpoints where identification had to be authenticated. 

If they were going to get their hands on the laptop, it was going to have to be at the General’s home.

It was 4pm when L'éboueur returned to the mechanic who was chuckling to himself about the price he was being paid for a car that required next to no work. This seemed to put L'éboueur’s mind at ease for the time being.

Dot and L'éboueur began discussing the nature of the objective, Dot explaining the difficulty of infiltrating a military base, however the risks were severely lesser off base in the town of Ilidza where the General resides. In agreement, the two both met with Rudek at 10pm, on the outskirts of town behind a gas station, a larger bag was handed to Dot, who in term placed it in the back of the Jeep for L'éboueur to look over. Rudek advised them to call his people when they were ready to leave; they were to provide safe passage to Sarajevo.

Rudek gave a nod as he drove away, Dot immediately on the phone to the number given to him, within half an hour a separate meeting was scheduled further along the road to Sarajevo, where they would meet Rudek’s people.

Dot took the time to inspect the electronic surveillance gear, while L'éboueur dove into the pair of Russian PP19 Vityaz submachine guns, both were worn, but far from damaged. Familiar with them, he broke each one down and reassembled it quickly, checking for any missing parts or damaged internals. Satisfied, he placed them back in the bag they had arrived in, the three magazines fully loaded in a separate pouch.

As the two approached the next meeting spot, a small van was waiting, three occupants inside. L'éboueur pulled up alongside the vehicle, his pistol aimed at the men from the inside of his door, he gave a nod and waited for a reply. An elderly man exited the van, a non threatening expression on his face, even though carrying a beat up AK-47 over his shoulder. He signaled for the Jeep to follow him, repeating his nod, L'éboueur took up position some 20 meters behind the van for the drive to Sarajevo.

After an hour and a half of driving, the brake lights of the van came to life as 3 older model Jeeps blocked the road ahead. L'éboueur stopped short of the cars, his hand shoving Dot, waking him from his sleep, both men drew their sidearms and waited for any form of movement. Within moments, the old man appeared, exchanging something with one of the men in the Jeep, pointing to the vehicle where L'éboueur and Dot were, nodding his head. Another few moments passed, neither Dot or L'éboueur dared to breathe, both men thinking that his was going to end badly. The Jeeps then came to life, slowly rolling back off the road to allow the van and the following vehicle through.

The tense moment had passed as the two watched the militia roadblock disappear behind them, L'éboueur was relieved although would not have minded a show of force if given half the opportunity.

The van came to a stop on the outskirts of town, the old man getting out once more and waiting for his two guests to do the same. L'éboueur and Dot both exited, giving appreciative nods to the old man. Unable to control the urge, L'éboueur pulled some money from his pocket, motioning his interest in the man’s AK.

The old man laughed as the van drove away, sitting in the passenger seat counting the sum that could have bought 20 new rifles that this tourist had just paid him for his beat up nail driver of a weapon.

The hotel that L'éboueur had booked seemed modest, not fancy, nor dirty, clean nad dry, all that was needed. Dot left L'éboueur at the hotel, he had slept in the car, so he wanted to get eyes on the Generals home to start documenting the morning routine, it was L'éboueur’s chance to rest before anything serious began. Taking the jeep, it only took 20 minutes for him to find the street the General lived on and a good place in which to park the car for observation.

6am, the upstairs light of the modest living establishment came on, shadows moving against the still closed curtains. Shortly after, the downstairs light came on, followed immediately by the turning off of the upstairs. 6.45am a Jeep not dissimilar to the one Dot was driving appeared in the driveway, UN plates visible on the vehicle. A driver exited the vehicle, moved to the Generals front door and knocked before returning to the car. Lennart emerged from his home, closed the door behind him and entered the back seat of the waiting vehicle.

Dot took up a long tail of the vehicle, it was taking the most direct route the four kilometers to the base entrance, Dot thinking to himself that a car extraction was out of the question. It was a direct route, there would be good response times if any alert went out, it would have to be a night extraction alerting as few people as possible to ensure a head start.

Dot watched as the General’s vehicle approached the entry gate to the base, passing security checks it disappeared from view as Dot came to a stop along the side of the road at a safe distance. Waiting a few minutes he then headed back to the hotel. L'éboueur woke to the sound of Dot pulling into the car park, he rose from bed and began making a poor cup of coffee. Dot entered and explained the events of the morning, they agreed that in order to keep surveillance constant, another car was required, something L'éboueur would hire as it was Dot’s turn to rest.

Securing a hire vehicle seemed easier than it should have been, no pictures of passports, just cash and a promise, L'éboueur left the premises in a several year old Toyota Camry, the paint had clearly seen better days and the upholstery had clearly been used as an ashtray at some point, but for the price, it would do the job for a few days. Arranging another visit to the General's house, L'éboueur woke Dot around midday with a phone call, both vehicles arriving around 1pm to inspect the property. Dot was the first to move, he started at the front of the house, looking quickly but carefully at the door, the motion sensors inside visible through the window immediately told him that it was a standard alarm system, most likely a touch pad with a pin code. Moving around the house, Dot could hear the sound of flapping from the rear of the house as he walked silently down a side path. Looking around the back corner, a middle aged woman was standing on the back deck flapping folding linen, the General had a maid.

Withdrawing back to the car where L'éboueur waited, he explained the situation before going back to the Jeep and waiting inside. By 2pm, the maid appeared from the side of the house riding a push bike, L'éboueur started his engine before attacking up a tail of the maid. Thinking that if the maid had access to the home, she would have the pin code for the alarm, if they needed to go that far to gain entry.

The two conversed over their burner phones, they now knew the maids unit number and address of her apartment block if they needed to take that route. Meeting back at the hotel, they decided to look around the town, finding a good place to eat that sold decent coffee, L'éboueur took his leave around 5pm, knowing that standard military would be leaving the base around 6pm.

As if on cue, L'éboueur sighted the General’s vehicle leaving the base, one driver, one passenger. Tailing the vehicle, it headed into town, not in the direction of the General’s home. Pulling up outside a restaurant, L'éboueur parked across the street from the UN vehicle, observing the General exit the car and enter the establishment. Sending Dot a text, L'éboueur made his way on foot across the busy street and brushed past the driver of the General’s car, almost stumbling to see if the driver had any kind of reaction. His goal being to establish if this was just a driver, or someone with reaction skills of a body guard or trained special forces soldier. To his delight, the driver merely stood there with a strange look on his face, as if he had just felt the urge come upon him to blow his nose. Heading inside, L'éboueur spied the General sitting alone at a table deep in conversation with an elderly man who stood by him, dressed in the attire of a chef.

Playing the part of a loud tourist, L'éboueur demanded his own table, acting almost foolishly in order to be sat where he wanted, with direct line of sight to the General who was reading a novel, his laptop bag securely placed between his legs on the floor.

Too much time had passed in Dot’s mind, jumping into the Jeep and making his way towards town, he keyed speed dial 1, L'éboueur’s burner in the hope of an update. The voice on the other end of the line came through in low volume so as not to be overheard, periodically the chewing of food also echoed down the phone. Dot took up a position in the jeep outside, watching to see if the Driver would emerge. The clock was approaching 8pm before the General rose from his table. Thanking his host, he made his way back out of the restaurant and towards the vehicle, his driver opening the door for him, the driver who had been sitting in the front of the building to keep a somewhat observant if not distracted eye on any potential threat.

Dot followed the General’s vehicle back to his home, a similar routine as the morning, the driver opening the door for the General, the door opening, alarm system turned off, then a short not as the driver entered the vehicle and drove away. Setting up his listening devices and binoculars in hand, Dot could hear the sounds of music playing, the periodic tapping of a keypad and the standard movements of a single man pacing around. This continued until 11pm where the music died suddenly, lights went out and all was quiet. Waiting until 3am, L'éboueur arrived to relieve Dot from his post, having recorded one security check at 1am, Dot welcomed the reprieve, heading back to the Hotel for some food and sleep.

*

The Following day was much the same as the previous, the General’s routine following the same structure as the day previous, a lifetime of order on regulation at its finest. L'éboueur and Dot spent the morning scouting a location for interrogation if for some reason the General was uncooperative in the attempts to gain his laptop. An industrial area 25 minutes from his home looked like the best spot, good cover and good sight lines in and out. L'éboueur was convinced that they had to move against the General this evening, there was only 2 days until he flew back to Canada on board a military aircraft. It was Dot’s turn to follow the General home, today there was no restaurant, only a direct route home, his equipment picking up sounds of pots nad pans going to work as music played in the background.

The plan was as simple as they could make it, after the 4am security check that L'éboueur was convinced that they had to move against the General this evening, there was only 2 days until he flew back to Canada on board a military aircraft. Had reported, they go in, infiltrate the home and conduct a search, find the laptop and get out. As 11 pm arrived, much like the previous night, music died, lights went out and all was silent.

Dot returned to the hotel to find L'éboueur had packed everything, as if no one had ever stayed in the room. Bags were placed by the door, beds were made and all prints were wiped from surfaces.

Dropping the rented vehicle keys in the box outside the rental office, the two made their way back to the General’s house at 2am, observing from a distance as the gentle ticking of their watches counted down the seconds until it was time to move.

4am, the security check was standard, a loop of the house was conducted before moving off. 4:07am, the doors of the Jeep silently opened as Dot and L'éboueur silently approached the house. Dot taking a knee as he picked the lock with ease, L'éboueur standing guard behind him, his pistol held at the ready across his chest. As the front door opened, Dot could see the motion detector sensors glowing red, he knew he had somewhere between 30-45 seconds before sirens sounded. Plugging in his remote device smoothly, he was inside the system within moments, disabling the system in under 25 seconds. Taking a silent but deep breath, he opened the door wider for L'éboueur to enter before closing it with a slight click of the latch catching the bolt inside the lock.

Both men scanned their surroundings, clicking the switches of their flashlights only for brief moments to see what was around them. The downstairs area was clean and clear, the kitchen organized, bathroom barely used, living area without blemish. Dot signaled to L'éboueur to stay behind him as he moved towards the stairs, ascending slowly but silently, Dot reached the top of the stairs where he was met by the open door of a bathroom and two closed doors. From where he was positioned in the house, he could see the door on his left was where the General slept, the room on the right was unknown. L'éboueur placed his hand on Dot’s shoulder, motioning to the mystery door, Dot moved to it, opening it gently to reveal an office. Again placing a hand on his shoulder, L'éboueur motioned that he would remain in the hall while Dot searched the office to make sure there was no movement or surprises. Looking around the room, flicking his flashlight, dot could see he was in a study, everything in its place, even the laptop sitting neatly on the desk.

Dot unfolded the laptop slowly, covering the speakers in case the frustrating sound of Windows startup filled the air. To his relief, it was silent, plugging into the computer he was through the password protection in under a minute and looking at a very barren desktop. Folders were present, but not labeled well, this was it, this was the op.

Laptop in hand, Dot exited the room, L'éboueur standing in the hallway, motioning to the bedroom as if asking if they needed to make entry. Dot shook his head motioning to the laptop, he moved his eyes in the direction of the exit, L'éboueur paused for an instant before shrugging and making his way down the stairs and across the main area to the door.

*

Dot and L'éboueur drove north, in no direction set in their orders. They had just stolen from NATO command, specifically a Brigadier General, if there was going to be a pursuit, it was not going to go north, it was going to the border or west, back towards anywhere with an airport. The two of them set up in a hotel in Tusla, a small place with four walls, bad TV and worse coffee, but dry and more importantly, off grid.

The TV was tuned to the local news channel, there was nothing mentioned of any activity, Dot’s computer reading the same, no increased security around NATO bases, no restrictions on flights in and out of the country, everything seemed normal. 

Dot didn’t know what to do, he looked blankly at the laptop, it was L'éboueur who made the decision, deeming it important to know the information they had just stolen. With his brain also thinking the same thing, Dot opened the laptop, scanning for folders and files that the General may have been working on.

It was clear that Lennart had no sense of computer literacy, the computer was a dumping station for data. The only clear system that could be found was that the General was one of those ‘Read Everything’ personalities, once an item was read, it was closed and not organized.

It took hours to scan through most of the documents, something that could take months to get a good understanding of.

Batches of redacted NATO reports, memos and intel documents from agencies across the globe, CIA, FBI, SAS and alike, almost everything marked ‘classified’. Manifests of secret NATO flights across the Balkans, disappearing records and flight plans, it was all jumbled and all seemed to be in no particular direction or order. Evidence of diverted medical care and blood supplies bound for third world nations, all but disappeared en route. Secret death squads dispatched from NATO against western enemies in the Middle East, all of these reports seemed unfounded, neither L'éboueur or Dot ever seeing anything like it.

Money going everywhere, offshore accounts around the globe, funding non-government affiliated agencies and black ops. Recurring mentions of the ‘Cambridge 5’, the secret spy ring in the 70’s that made both Dot and L'éboueur think on their history.

This was a lot of information to compile for just one General, Dot had the overwhelming feeling that Lennart had either been given this information and pursued it further himself, or stumbled onto someone's existing research, either way, it looked like he could make little sense of it, and why was it so important to their employers?

Dot inserted a flash drive into the side of the laptop, copying all files to it, nearly filling the two terabyte drive. Wiping all traces of his intrusion from the computer, another scan of the news headlines made it clear it was time to call the number from Belgrade, it was time to get in contact with Anton.

The phone rang for what seemed like an eternity, once it was answered , only breathing came through the line at first. Dot broke the silence only to be met with a few words regarding being called back before the phone went dead again. The two had been in the hotel all day, arriving at 6am and watching the clock now chime 8pm. Dot’s phone rang to the sound of Anton on the other line, questions about why they had waited so long to call after completing their operation.

Dot explained that they needed to make sure they were not being followed, needing to lay low and observe the news and NATO movements. Anton expressed that they were required to make the exchange at 6am dawn.

Looking at each other, L'éboueur and Dot breathed sighs of relief mixed with uncertainty, the meeting destination was always going to be the hardest part, the uncertainty of them walking out of Bosnia alive was always up in the air.

L'éboueur knew the location and its significance, Srebrenica, the place of the mass killings and genocide of the mid 90’s, they were going to make a deal in a ghost town, L'éboueur felt a cold chill run up his spine, as if someone had asked him to deliver plutonium to Chernobyl. 

Both men knew what was at stake, if the meeting was at 6am, they were going to be there hours early, scout the area, make sure they had a good exit plan in case things went sideways. Dot packed up all his equipment as tightly as possible, save for anything that he knew he would need, mainly weapons, L'éboueur did the same, again stripping and cleaning the AK 47 he had paid handsomely for.

The drive was quiet, relaxing almost, the night sky clear overhead as the Jeep arrived at Srebrenica. The coordinates given to them were for a plateau halfway up a hillside, below them the cemetery of the mass killings, above them the rocky hills of the horizon.

L'éboueur found the spot, a crossroads of sorts, one way up, an offroad track leading further into the hills, but mainly the end of the line. Whoever was coming to this exchange could only get there by the single road. The night air was cool to breath, almost cold enough to stop the nervous sweat both men had as they scanned the hills above and the valley bellow for any signs of movement or danger. L'éboueur had his AK in hand, his submachine gun ready on the front seat and his sidearm concealed on his hip, Dot was much the same, his submachine gun across his chest, his sidearm in the small of his back.

It was 7:54am when two vehicles entered their view at the bottom of the slop, a Jeep similar to theirs, and a blue BMW sedan followed. At a distance of about 200 meters the two vehicles stopped. One man exiting the Jeep and clearly using a set of binoculars to look up the hill, he was met with the gaze of L'éboueur looking back at him through similar binoculars. The man ran to the window of the BMW, clearly talking to someone inside who also exited the vehicle briefly before disappearing back inside.

The man with the binoculars hopped back into the Jeep and within moments, both cars were climbing the hillside again, slowly. Stopping 50 or so meters from where L'éboueur and Dot were waiting, a large bald man exited the BMW and began flashing the lights on and off, the signal for the exchange. L'éboueur leaned into the driver’s side of the Jeep, he started echoing the sequence of flashing lights as the sun crept over the horizon.

The sunlight bathing everything it touched in a warm orange light, everything seemed in its place, until the glint of something metallic and reflective caught the eyes of Dot and L'éboueur as the light slowly washed over the hills above.