Sorry about the long delay - life intervened. I hope to keep updates more frequent from now on.
"Good morning, everyone," Reddington cheerfully saluted the group gathered in the conference room. "Before we get started I want you to keep one thing in mind. Quicksilver didn't get his name for nothing. The slightest hint that something is off and he'll disappear. I insist that you follow my instructions to the letter. If you don't, this entire project will be an exercise in futility. A very expensive one," he cocked an eyebrow at Cooper.
"Very well, Red," the assistant director said calmly. "We'll play it your way. What is it that you have to tell us?"
"Let's start with our location. Belarus." Moving to the front of the room, Reddington assumed a didactic tone. Clearly he loved the opportunity to speak; Cooper often thought that the chance to deliver frequent lectures to his agents had to be at least part of the reason Red had decided to turn himself in. "Back in the days of the Soviet Union, it was a fairly prosperous place. Sadly for the Belarusians, the collapse of communism worsened things. The government decided to stay with a centralized economy rather than going capitalist. As you might imagine, this didn't play well compared to the rest of Eastern Europe. However, the conditions were ripe for an underground capitalist economy to spring up, which it did, and it's flourishing. For the cost of a bribe you can get anything you want - which could include hiring someone to do away with inconveniences like FBI and CIA agents." His tone hardened. "You must take this seriously: We are headed into hostile territory. If you get into trouble waving an American passport will accomplish nothing, except possibly to get you killed faster."
"Okay, we get it," Ressler commented. "What's your plan?"
"Once we get to Minsk you won't be seeing that much of me. As I told Lizzie, I have business of my own there which needs to be attended to." He met Ressler's suspicious glare with a bland smile. "Not to mention that we need to keep my FBI connection as quiet as possible. I have a contact there who's going to put you in touch with Quicksilver. He speaks fluent English, Russian and Belarusian; his name is Mikhail Zhadobin. He's made our hotel arrangements and we've worked out a contact point. I will arrive on my jet; you will fly separately on a commercial airline. Once we capture Quicksilver, time is of the essence. We'll get him on board my jet and fly out as fast as we can."
Agent Malik nodded in agreement. "That makes sense to me. What's our cover? Who are we?"
"You are an up-and-coming group of criminals, with experience in securities fraud. I didn't give Zhadobin much information about you; cook yourselves up a backstory. Tie it into something real - he will check. Basically, you deal in precious metals and you've struck a deal with a South African company to obtain palladium for a lower price than investors can get on the current market. Also, you'll claim you can lower their tax burden by storing the metal overseas. A truly irresistible deal."
The next day saw Keen, Ressler and Malik headed to Minsk. Meela had taken control of this portion of the trip, having a great deal more experience in international investigations than the other two. She recommended that they travel in character as their criminal alter egos, so they checked in separately at the airport and avoided speaking to each other on the plane.
Liz's first impression of Minsk was fog: Buildings immersed in it loomed suddenly out of the dusk, giving an air of mystery to the city. Perfect for a film noir, she thought. Having rarely traveled outside the US, she was immediately intrigued; for a moment she wished she could be a tourist with nothing on her mind but churches, pubs and museums. Glancing at Donald Ressler, she saw he too was gazing out the car window but gave no hint of what he was thinking.
At that moment the taxi pulled up in front of the hotel recommended by their contact. The Cyrillic lettering meant nothing to her or Ressler, but supposedly translated to Minsk Premier Hotel. Zhadobin had made a good choice; the edifice was not grand enough to attract attention, just solid and respectable. As far as Ressler could tell from their map, it was located near the center of the city. He and Keen, having pretended to discover they were headed to the same hotel while waiting in the taxi line, politely split the fare and together they headed up the stairs leading to the front door. Malik had told them she'd find her own transport to the hotel.
Feeling fatigued, Liz slumped into her room and tossed her suitcase onto the bed, then slipped off her shoes. She pulled the curtain slightly to one side to get a look at the darkening city. More fog; rain had been predicted for the evening. She shivered at the thought and turned back to her suitcase. If they had to go out tonight, she was wearing something warm.
Ressler, too, stood at the window of his room and gazed out absently. His hands were jammed into his pockets, a habit with him when he was thinking, but he couldn't get a clear train of thought started. Instead a jumble of impressions darted around his brain: Where'd Meela get to? How's this Zhadobin going to contact us? Reddington - what the hell is he up to? and, in a corner of his mind, What do we do about dinner?
Several of his questions were answered when the phone jangled a few moments later. "This is Todd Nichols," he answered, using his cover ID.
"Todd, darling. This is Abha Mittal," drawled the very British voice on the other end. "Was your trip all right? How's the hotel?"
It was Malik, of course. Ressler stifled a grin, thinking, Damn, she's good. "Everything went fine, thanks. Your recommendation was perfect."
"There's someone here I'd like you to meet. He's big on data management; it's really his thing." She made it sound like a fetish. "We'll be at the Palats Pub at eight o'clock. And if you have any little friends you'd care to bring along, we can make it a party. So much fun!"
"I'm good at making friends. I'll see what I can do. See you at eight," he answered, and quickly headed down the hallway to tap softly at Liz's door.
