Returning to the Audi, Benoit taking the wheel, Marek and Benoit were visibly frustrated, feeling the hoops they keep finding themselves having to jump through never ending.
Benoit’s phone buzzed in his pocket, Violet, the medical examiner was calling, their strange code names less obvious than others, Benoit calling her ‘V’, as she referred to him at ‘Trois’, his team number from back in the days as a GIGN operator. Answering the phone through the Audi Bluetooth, she was disturbed by the examination of the blood. Before getting too deep in the conversation, Benoit made Violet aware that Marek was present so as not to make her nervous. Her tone was strange, inquisitive yet worried, her explanation of what she had analysed was almost lost on the two men in the car, the blood itself showing key indicators at the composition, going unanswered to her question about the blood's origin, she was clearly perplexed as a scientist. The blood itself showed strange things, heavy elements of iridium and sulphur at levels too high to be recorded in an active sample. Clear evidence of viscosity, when diluted it goes to normal levels, after a short time it builds back up to original levels. Asking how old the sample was, Marek interjected with unknown age and that it was found unrefrigerated.
Growing increasingly stressed, V continued, describing previously unknown T-cell activity, the regular antibodies of a person pale in comparison to the regenerative and restorative capabilities of what she had found. Concluding that this sample is not something that has been accidentally done, this had to have been manufactured. Although incredible, she explained that it was not perfect, the sample showing high volatility to do with Gunther’s disease, an intense sensitivity to ultraviolet light, moving a part of the sample to examine at a different section of her lab, the UV light caused the sample to completely break down, turning the red liquid to grey ash.
The conversation continued as Violet expressed her deep concern regarding the sample, wherever it came from was not able to reside within a living body. Marek interjected that if this was injected into a living body, what she assumed would be the result, her immediate reaction being that it was highly toxic.
Violet could not rule out that this blood was completely manufactured, the T-cells and genetic markers regarding Gunther’s disease making it appear for more organic. She continued to explain the severity of the sample, her best way of describing it to the Neanderthals on the other end of the phone being that if a mediaeval alchemist was asked to take a look at Oppenheimer's prototype.
After ending the call requesting that all information regarding the blood be kept quiet until able to find out more about the source, Benoit hung up as he pulled the Audi into a car space across the road from CJH Investments.
A street of townhouses with similar plaques as the doctor’s office, a string of financial planners and accountants littered the footpath. Benoit continued to let his mouth run wild with theories regarding the blood sample, Marek drawing his attention to a young woman who had just exited the Investment firm. Observing her, Benoit noted her movements were that of standard procedure being poorly executed. Marek and Benoit exited the car, both checking their sidearms, as the took up a position following the woman. Benoit continued to talk as the two men turned on their phones to stay in contact as they walked some distance apart. Looking like a tourist on his phone, Marek scrolled through the pictures of the notebook from Dr Ingolf’s safe at Benoit’s request, Marek searched for anything to identify anyone, names, addresses, any form of lead to follow. Making matters worse, it was standard doctor’s handwriting, taxing at the best of times. Scrolling to the very beginning of the book, the only name found after a page full of scribbled out notes, one single name emerged in a disturbing sentence. ‘Rachov dropped off sample to prove how powerful they are’.
Repeating the sentence out loud so that Benoit could hear it, Marek placed his phone back in his pocket to focus on his work tailing their target. Benoit reminded Marek that if this was the girl they were looking for, the two would have to identify themselves as being sent by the MI6 chief, Carpenter.
The woman turned a corner at a sidestreet across the road from where Marek and Benoit walker, as they observed her movements, two men stepped out from a doorway on the corner of where she turned and began to follow her. Taking the alley and sighting her descending a flight of stairs to the subway, the two men who were seemed to be following her quickened their pace, from behind Benoit could see familiar tattoo’s poking out of the shirt collar of one of the men. Quickening their pace Marek and Benoit closed on the men without drawing too much attention to themselves. Descending into the subway station, Marek and Benoit could see the woman turn a corner down a second flight of stairs across a large tiled main entrance, they closed on the men who were near the second flight. Benoit moved quickly, closing within moments.
As the two men were descending the second flight of stairs, Benoit and Marek were close behind, Benoit letting out a call to them, a derogatory name filled the air in Russian, causing the man in front of Benoit to turn to see who had called out. Benoit’s fist bearing down on the man who quickly recognized his mistake, still moving down the stairs to create distance, the fist missing his face by centimetres, his balance failing him as Benoit pushed forward.
The second man in front of Marek turned to see Benoit swinging wildly, turning his gaze to Marek who was closing in, he reached inside his coat in search of his weapon. Marek did not hesitate, launching down the stairs with a powerful knee, the crunch of the man’s nose audible as the he was sent down the stairs in a bleeding mess. Sighting the woman in the distance who had paused to see the commotion, Marek watched as she locked eyes with him before turning and running around another corner.
Benoit pushed Marek to go after her while he dealt with the two men on the staircase. Benoit pulled his Glock in one swift motion, squeezing the trigger as he drew, his single shot turning the man who he had attempted to strike falling backwards down the stairs, hitting the floor next to his compatriot, blood oozing from the fresh hole in his face. Moving down the stairs, Benoit did not break his stride or take his eyes of Marek who was speeding ahead, squeezing off a second round into the head of the man Marek had knocked out.
Marek turned the corner where he had seen the woman vanish, ahead of him, a single female scream filled the air. Pushing forward, Marek followed the scream, turning to his right towards the train platform to see the woman he was tailing being held at gunpoint by a heavily tattooed man, a second gunman also present, both men unleashing a volley at Marek who barely had time to react. The tiled walls exploding at head height next to Marek’s face, he ducked and took cover, drawing his sidearm and returning fire on the gunman who was not protected by a human shield. The 45 calibre bullets tore through the man’s stomach, sending him backwards before falling to his knees clutching at holes in his torso before doubling over. The chaos was taking hold, the civilians who had littered the platform were moving in all directions, the sound of gunshots filling the enclosed space, the hostage taker clearly unfazed, continuing to fire in Marek’s direction.
Hearing through his earpiece that he had support, Marek took cover as he watched Benoit move swiftly from the other side of the entryway, his pistol firing a single shot. The red mist of arterial blood spray coating the tiled pillar behind the head of the hostage taker, his left eye now a mangled mess of tissue. As the man fell to the ground, the woman ran to the closes door she could see, the doors to the heavily occupied train that had just arrived.
Calling out across the platform, Marek announced that the two men were undercover police in an attempt to evacuate the crowd in a manner of some restraint. Following the woman, with nowhere to go, Marek and Benoit found her in the corner of the carriage, her hand in her handbag that was now pointed at Marek as he approached. Holstering his pistol as he looked at her, advising that they were sent by Carpenter, Benoit also echoed the remarks, advising that they had to move fast. Finally convincing the woman who in turn identified herself as Lynne Feinberg, CIA analyst, the three of them began their ascent back out of the train station, staying within the crowd as to not be easily identified.
The Audi pulled into the traffic smoothly, Benoit behind the wheel with Marek and Lynne in the back. Doing his best to reassure her whilst remaining on guard, Marek did his best to keep the atmosphere in the car calm.
Lynne finally began to speak, her tone tense yet clearly without a better option. Her details of the operation focussing heavily on the fact that it was not sanctioned, she was now a burnt asset. The reason for her leaving the CIA front at the time she did, was that her handler did not acknowledge that she existed. Her only plan, buy her way back into the CIA. Benoit pushed for more information on the operation and her extraction plan. She continued to fill in the two men, she was due to collect Shevlenko’s granddaughter who had previously dropped off the grid, the pick up scheduled for the following day. Now that the operation was a bust, she needed the information and the granddaughter in order to appease the CIA. Mr Green, the field team leader who was the direct contact with Carpenter at MI6, was one of the who vanished on the operation, himself being the only person with knowledge of how to extract the information from Shevlenko.
Confirming that it was a defection, the terms of the information that Shevlenko had that was extremely valuable was to deliver both Shevelnko and his granddaughter to the US. The back up extraction location if the previous night’s mission was a failure was to perform the removal on the final day of the convention during the evening event, the opera.
Mr Green had been working the operation for months with Carpenter, his communications with Shevlenko had all been arranged through Dr Ingolf who in term had enough Skeletons in his closet to easily be used by the CIA. Lynne let all information out, almost breaking down as the realisation set in that she had no one on her side, no contacts she could trust, the planning of the extraction was close to perfect with the exception of opposition forces.
Knowing that Lynne needed to remain safe and continue her plan to extract the granddaughter, Benoit thumbed the number for Carpenter into his phone, hearting the ringer in his earpiece as he did not want the conversation heard by the other occupants of the car.
Carpenter’s tone was that of a man who was happy to cut ties. Benoit explained that she needed to be placed in a safehouse, Carpenter on the other hand would rather see her disappear, giving Benoit the address of a location where he could disappear her. Not agreeing, Benoit hung up abruptly, looking at Marek in the rear view mirror, shaking his head as Marek glanced at him.
After driving for some time, Benoit pulled the car into a space on the side of the road by a string of well purposed cafes and middle class accommodation. The decision was to keep her safe in a motel that no one knew about. Benoit went into the closest hotel, Marek and Lynne sitting opposite the entrance in a cafe, Marek making sure Lynne had food and drink as her hands had not stopped shaking since the train station. The amount of time needed to finally calm her and have her agree to not run was painful, almost an hour passing before the car stopped.
As Benoit and Marek watched Lynne disappear inside the entrance of the hotel Benoit had just arranged, the two finally stove back to Carrol’s residence. Looking at his watch, Marek reminded Benoit of their meeting with Shevlenko that had been arranged through Popov for 2pm. Both men checked their phones, no cancellations had been sent through, the events of the previous night seeming to have no impact on the ongoing schedule of Shevlenko.
The constant brainstorming of what was the best path to take was exhausting, the doctor office, the Shevlenko meeting, continuing Green’s contingency plan of the opera, so many choices.
Deciding that the meeting with Shevlenko was the only way to determine the value of the information Shevlenko possessed, the most troublesome aspect being that the two of them would be going inside the Russian Embassy, a possible haven for FSB, Lisky Mafia and all manner of eyes for any and all enemies they had made between Vienna and Odessa.
The decision was not an easy one, both men deciding that the Russian Embassy was going to be their only chance to talk with Shevlenko with some sort of privacy. They hadn’t received any communication regarding cancelling the meeting, despite the previous activities of the hotel party.
They couldn’t attempt an extraction at the doctor’s office, Shevlenko was not the kind of man to travel alone, and they would not be able to gain entry to the office with a Russian dignitary inside, the Embassy was their only chance.
Changing into their formal attire, making sure to plan their entry and exit route if they were going to attempt any form of emergency action. A Russian embassy full of FSB and with its on-site private army in the basement, they both agreed that there was slim chance they would make it out alive if it degenerated into a firefight.
The drive to the Embassy was a quiet one, both men choosing easy to reach locations to stowe their pistols and personal weapons. The sweat seemed to hold at each of their hairlines. Marek, thinking about counting the steps from the lobby, to where they would be having the meeting, Benoit on the other hand, focussing on who was armed with what in terms of every man they pass once inside. Pulling the car into one of the spaces reserved for guests, Benoit and Marek both gave each other a slightly worried look as they both breathed deeply before exiting the car.
Moving inside the large revolving glass door, Marek announced his appointment with Shevlenko to the clerk who was busily shuffling paperwork and answering the switchboard calls, pausing from his daily duties to acknowledge the two men who had entered, checking their identification and matching it to his large, open diary..
Ushered to a seat against the wall in a waiting area on the second floor, given coffee by their escort, Marek and Benoit both did their best to look as relaxed as possible as they scanned the room for any signs of alarm, looking for any signs of anything untoward. As the clock moved closer to 2pm, their designated time of appointment, a large wooden door creaked loudly as is swung open, revealing Katarina and Popov, introducing themselves, Marek and Benoit followed the two to another large room, four desks littered around the main space, a glass office in the corner revealing Shevlenko who was on the phone. Katerina pointed to a vacant chair across from the desk that had her name on it, the two sat quietly, waiting for the invitation to meet Shevlenko. Marek scanned the room, the CCTV cameras that hung in the corners of the room seeming to be placed with little concern for concealment, the large red lights on them revealing their position with ease.
Watching as Shevlenko hung up the phone that was pressed to his ear, he opened the door to his office and waved the two towards him, his smile beaming. Entering his office, Marek and Benoit shook his hand as pleasantries were exchanged.
After introductions, Marek was the first to deceptively indicate the meeting's true nature, indicating that both men were due at the airport the following day. Shevlenko offered the men a drink from the bar to the side of his office. Refusing a drink, the insistence of Shevlenko catching Marek off guard, observing the body language of the older man, he was indicating through his obvious eye movements that there was items of importance on the drinks cart, also pointing to the lamp on his desk. Downing the drink quickly, Marek stood to refresh his drink, wandering to the drinks cart, sighting the small microphone against the window sill. Pulling a small frequency jammer from his pocket, Marek began to tune the frequency of the two microphones as to not completely disable them, but distort them enough to make what was being said inaudible.
Sitting back down, Marek nodded to Benoit who began the conversation with Shevlenko. His tone completely changed from the smiling dignitary to serious KGB officer. Beginning the discussion with the events of the Hotel, Shevlenko was not able to shed light on events the two did not already know.
As Shevlenko continued, he indicated that the previous extraction team had not taken into account the arrival of the element that killed them.
Marek interjected, that Shevlenko needed to presume that the two men in front of him knew everything their was to know, the bluff proving to be only partially successful against the sharp mind of a veteran spy who had spent the last half of a century lying for a living.
Shevlenko announced that he was willing to offer the same deal to the two of them that he offered the CIA, successful extraction of his granddaughter and himself in exchange for the information that the CIA wanted. Benoit and Marek probed as hard as they could for what the information was concerned with, the only answers being given, that the focus that took out the CIA team wanted it as badly as the CIA yet they could not get to it for reasons that both Marek and Benoit did not initially understand.
Continuing to the origins of the information, after heavy yet calm questioning from Benoit, Shevlenko told of how the information was discovered decades ago by Shevlenko’s old accomplice, Kim Philby during his time in the middle east. However Philby was unable to action it as he was nearly expired, passing the information onto Shevlenko as he drew his final breaths, the information not directly related to what destroyed the CIA team, but something they wanted to use. An amulet was also a focal point of Shevlenko’s explanation, the only reason those responsible for the CIA team’s demise had not forcefully taken the information from Shevlenko, an amulet in his possession kept them at bay.
Marek, ever the pessimist, smiling not only to maintain a look of polite business to those outside the glass windows keeping watch, but choking down laughter at the notion of Shevlenko’s supernatural explanation.
Shifting the conversation to the topic of Shevlenko’s doctor, Benoit explained the analysis of the blood sample, the obvious irregularities. All information that Benoit shared was repeated by Shevlenko, using the information to support his primary accusation of what the two were up against, Vampires.
The very mention of the name caused Marek to stand and swallow his laughter, Benoit on the other hand remaining seated and searching his mind for a more realistic explanation. Marek rejoined Benoit, choosing to indulge the old man across the desk from him. Shevlenko continued, his distaste for the two men became apparent as he compared them to children with a sheltered life and no experience outside their own front door.
Shevlenko continued to press how the extraction was completely unknown to anyone outside the unsanctioned CIA team, the mention from Benoit of the blood in Shevlenko’s doctor’s office turned the conversation. Shevlenko's expressions changed as he pieced his own puzzle together, how he was discovered.
Re-engaging with the theory, Marek spoke of the events of Odessa, the sights they had seen regarding the Doctor they witnessed injecting corpses, the large black clad figures who moved like ghosts and did not die. Shevlenko had no knowledge of the names that Marek started spinning, Dr Dorjiev, Danilo Brigovic, he was lost in the names. He expressed that he did not believe that they were connected to the conspiracy of Nosferatu he had encountered. This caused a shift in Marek’s thinking, noting to himself the Odessa discoveries.
Indulging Shevlenko’s desire to push the conversation in the direction of Vampires, Marek and Benoit spoke in what would appear to be jest, jet began the line of questioning seeking answers. How to destroy a Vampire, asking Shevlenko what will work, traditional means such as stakes and sunlight, holy water and silver, effectiveness of Catholic to Protestant religions. Shevlenko made it clear that the amulet in his possession was the only thing protecting him, yet its deterrent power was waning. Curling his lip as he spat the answers that he could, Shevlenko grew impatient of the questioning, returning to how the two men were going to get him out of the country without alerting the FSB detail always at his side.
Benoit recounted his experience of the night that the CIA agents were killed, Shevlenko’s nurse, Zhenya was keeping his bodyguard out of the barn, Benoit suggesting her knowledge and involvement in the conspiracy. Shevlenko took a moment as the news of this took him by surprise, agreeing that questioning her would not be possible within the walls of the Embassy, and with no plans to leave the Embassy until the Opera on the last day of the conference, with the exception of the cancelled appointment with Dr Ingolf at six o’clock.
As time ran out for the basic meeting time scheduled in Shevlenko’s calendar, Marek and Benoit did their best to form some sort of agreement with Shevlenko. Extraction when possible yet without the removal of whoever was watching him beyond his FSB detail, the only protection available according the Shevlenko, the amulet in his possession, the two made no promise of success, yet gave Shevlenko their contact details in case any plans changed.
Safely exiting the Embassy, Marek scoffed at Benoit who was clearly more pulled in to Shevlenko’s story. Marek indulged the notions of Vampires, stating that he would search Carrols apartment for silver, suggesting that melting it down and coating bullets was a good start. Benoit on the other hand was obsessed with finding the biggest ultraviolet light possible.
The drive back to Carrol’s residence was full of arguments and plans, the frustration and jest of the topics discussed causing Marek and Benoit to grow more and more angry with their lack of information and direction.
Benoit picked up his phone and called Carpenter, his request was simple, firepower. Carpenter protested greatly to the request of any form of hardware bigger than a pistol, Benoit’s request for sub machine guns causing all manner of stress. When exhausting his request, he then continued to request information regarding Simon Thonradel to whom Carpenter had no immediate knowledge, Benoit requesting he do some digging.
Marek took to his computer and phone as he could hear one side of Benoit’s conversation regarding Carpenter’s objections. He dialled the number for Mr Happy, the same request for hardware that was optimistically received, he would reach out to see if anything could be done on short notice.
Benoit’s phone rang almost immediately after hanging up from Carpenter, Shevlenko’s voice coming through. He advised that after the recent events, he would be keeping his 6pm appointment at his doctor’s office. Benoit relayed the message to Marek who immediately took an interest, thinking that this was either the extraction plan, or a way to access Zhenya outside the Embassy. As Benoit hung up the phone, both men checked their watches, less than two hours until the appointment and both needed to get themselves ready.
*
The Audi was parked a short distance up the street from the office of Dr Ingolf, Benoit and Marek both looking for anything that resembled a government vehicle. Approximately five minutes before the clocks began to chime six o’clock, a black sedan came to a stop outside the main entrance to the office. Benoit watched closely, sighting a woman exit the car and hastily run inside the office, all alone and without any form of assistance. Both men exited the car, both now dressed in casual clothing and walked quickly towards the doctor’s front door.
Marek pushed the buzzer to the office, a female voice answered the intercom, Marek thinking on his feet and expressing that he was sent as an envoy for Shevlenko. After a brief pause, the door opened and an older lady appeared before them with a slight look of confusion on her face. Allowing the two of them inside, Benoit pushed past Marek and took the older lady by the arm, gripping it tightly as he moved her forcefully through the empty waiting room. Benoit’s demeanour was intense, demanding to know where the woman who entered moments earlier was. A slight yelp of fear as she pointed to the door to Dr Ingolf’s consulting room. The receptionist knocked on the doctor’s door before opening it to see Zhenya with her back towards the door. As she turned to see Benoit and Marek, Zhenya lunged for her handbag that was on the ground by her seat. Marek moved quickly to engage her, grabbing her forearm before she reached whatever she was looking for. The touch of Marek on her forearm causing her to move into an aggressive posture, although seated, she lunged with her free hand, punching Marek directly in the groyne.
At the sight of Marek recoiling, Benoit pushed the receptionist to the floor and drew his glock quickly on Zhenya who in turn froze as the barrel of the 9mm pistol was pointed directly at her face.
Sitting her down across the desk from the doctor, Marek gradually regained his composure, slumping into the second chair next to Zhenya. The receptionist also regained her feet and joined Dr Ingolf on the far side of the desk.
Benoit began his interrogation, demanding answers from Zhenya at gunpoint. She demonstrated to them clearly that she was no ordinary nurse, she was a trained FSB agent, both men knowing that if they wanted every piece of information, it was going to take days. Marek drew his blade from his belt, turning it in his hand so that it was braced for a reverse stab as he looked at Zhenya with a dead stare.
She refused to answer any form of questions regarding the events of the CIA extraction, any information regarding Simon Thonradel, she was trained well. Marek felt the need for urgency, placing his knife directly above the joint of her knee, the tip of the knife resting on the exterior of her business pants, yet its sharp point itching the skin. Repeating the question under the threat of never walking properly again, Zhenya again remained quiet.
Benoit’s phone buzzed to life as Albert Carpenter’s voice sounded in his ear. Simon Thonradel, appeared to be an alias, yet photos of him showed he liked the company of certain types of woman, each photo showing a different woman on his arm, all with dark hair and green eyes. Three of the women he had been photographed with had been reported missing in the past months. Carpenter could not confirm anything regarding Simon being involved as he travels in private planes and private convoys. The disappeared women, one an actress, another a drama student the third being a prostitute.
Hanging up the phone, Benoit confirmed that they had received the information, and Benoit moved closer to Zhenya. Marek continued his hurried interrogation, spinning his knife so that it penetrated the material of her pants at her knee.
Zhenya began to speak briefly, confirming that she would not talk, as she was more frightened of the FSB and linked Linsky Maria, also that she was more fearful of who they worked for, meaning Shevlenko’s theory than she was of the two men in front of her.
Benoit offered her safe passage until the end of the event in Vienna, desperate for information. Zhenya began to loosen her tongue, advising that it needed to be clean, she needed to be seen as having spoken to no one, that she was not the leak. Agreeing to her terms, Marek and Benoit promised her safe passage and protection in exchange for any information on Simon Thonradel.
Giving them an address of an abandoned factory on the outskirts of Vienna, Zhenya told of how the location was little more than a feeding ground, it was the location that the involved parties would place his food.
Conversing with her was not easy, she clearly knew what Simon Thonradel was, what Rachov was, yet she spoke to Benoit and Marek as if she was talking to dead men. Her frustration clearly visible as she barely made eye contact with either man.
Benoit looked up from Zhenya and shocked Dr Ingolf by inviting him into the conversation. Confronting the doctor, Ingolf professed to know nothing, that he did not see anything by way of the interrogation he had just witnessed, that he would say nothing at all.
Benoit pulled Zhenya to her feet, forcing her towards the car, pausing briefly to look at Marek, before motioning to the Doctor and receptionist who remained in the office.
Marek rose from his chair, his groyne feeling slightly better than it had previously. Looking directly at the two in front of him, Marek spoke softly to them, firstly that they would not talk without consequence, knowing that they were doomed no matter what happened, Marek also apologised before turning and exiting the office.
Marek entered the drivers seat, Benoit and Zhenya already occupying the back seat. Benoit did not take his gaze off Zhenya as Marek drove them to where Lynne had booked herself in. As the three made their way to the room, Marek knocked on the door, as it was opened by the rookie CIA agent, Benoit shoved Zhenya across the threshold. As Zhenya stood still in the centre of the room defiantly, Benoit stepped towards her, before she could react, she felt his rigid boot slam into the side of her knee.
Falling to the floor, feeling the ligaments and tendons in her knee snap and tear, Zhenya did her best to stifle her scream before Benoit was on her again, dragging her across the room and securing her to the visible radiator pipes. Lynne was shocked, Marek informing her of the need to secure her until further notice and that the plans for the airport were not to be disturbed. Nodding sheepishly, Lynne agreed before Watching both men leave the quiet room, she turned to face Zhenya who was tied to the corner, her frightened eyes met with a gaze of fear, will and loathing.
