UC: UNDERCOVER:
ACHILLES HEEL
By Wendy
Part three
The only sound to break the empty echo of the warehouse walls, was the noise of peanut shells being cracked and discarded, as four men sat in silence waiting for the final man to arrive.
"Kovak, you ever going to quit eating those damn things?" Jimmy Ragget asked as he sat throwing his knife above him, watching as it pirouetted into the air before coming to land hilt first in his hand.
Sitting opposite him, elbows resting on his knees, Charlie Kovak crunched another nut, and copying his teammates action with the knife, tossed the peanut into the air before catching in his mouth. "Nope." He grinned as he munched away on his snack.
"He's late?" Enrique Salinas said as he stood to stretch his legs.
"He's always late," Simon Creel added as he checked his watch. "The man still lives on Russian time."
"You have a problem?" A heavy accent reverberated around the empty rooms as Alek Baklanov joined the rest of the team. "It gives me that little extra time to say goodbye to your ladies."
"In your dreams Baklanov," Enrique refuted the tall blonde Russian's implication. "Our girls look for taste, class and más carne que usted lleva dentro de sus pantalones rusos. "
The others chuckled at Salinas' reference to size 'really does' matter.
"Don't you worry about my 'meat' Salinas," Baklanov leered as he grabbed his crotch and gave it a lewd squeeze.
"If you boys are quite finished," Creel snapped, bringing each man back to the reason he had called the meeting. "I have a job for us. How would you like to get some poetic justice, and at the same time earn half a mil each?"
So Creel had left off a couple of numbers that made up the four million in total they would be paid by Ortega, he deserved it. After all, he was the one that found out about the bounty, took the risk in going to Bogota. It will be his face that Alejandro Ortega will remember should it all go wrong. Anyway, he'd wanted out, and getting paid Two million dollars to deliver Frank Donovan to his death seemed like the perfect way to finish his illustrious career as a paid mercenary.
Looking from man to man, Kovak could see they were all of the same mind, "I agree, and I think we're all in 'harmony' here, Creel. So what's the job?"
"I, myself am feeling very lyrical at the sound of that much folding money," Ragget grinned, "Who do we have to kill?"
"No killing this time." Creel cryptically explained. "We are merely postmen, picking up and delivering a package to Alejandro Ortega in Bogota."
"A kidnapping?" the Russian shook his head. "I don't know. After last time....We got nichevo ."
"Yeah, but neither did they in the end," Ragget smirked as looked at his knife, remembering the feeling as he cut their hostage's throat with its razor sharp blade.
"Yes, Ragget, we know, you enjoy your work," Creel acknowledged before focusing on the team as a whole. "This is not a kidnapping, it is a trade. A certain package for crisp US dollars. Anyway, how can you negotiate, if you don't have a negotiator?"
Kovak's face broke out in a broad smile, as he shook his head and looked up at Creel, "Our target is Frank Donovan, isn't it, Creel? I see no more poetic justice than taking the man that cost us a million dollars."
"Hey, Kovak, be nice," Enrique sniggered. "The man's going to make us more than a mil interest on what he owes us."
Creel worked his deadliest glare on the one member of the team whose temper was the hardest to control and reiterated Alejandro's directions to him alone, "Ortega wants Donovan alive, Ragget, and if we want our money, that's how he's going to get there, understand?"
"I can do 'alive'," Ragget maliciously smiled. "When it's worth it to me."
Satisfied, Creel opened the suitcase he brought with him and pulled out all the intelligence he had on the leader of the UC, "Okay, gentlemen, let's get this operation underway."
TBC
ACHILLES HEEL
By Wendy
Part three
The only sound to break the empty echo of the warehouse walls, was the noise of peanut shells being cracked and discarded, as four men sat in silence waiting for the final man to arrive.
"Kovak, you ever going to quit eating those damn things?" Jimmy Ragget asked as he sat throwing his knife above him, watching as it pirouetted into the air before coming to land hilt first in his hand.
Sitting opposite him, elbows resting on his knees, Charlie Kovak crunched another nut, and copying his teammates action with the knife, tossed the peanut into the air before catching in his mouth. "Nope." He grinned as he munched away on his snack.
"He's late?" Enrique Salinas said as he stood to stretch his legs.
"He's always late," Simon Creel added as he checked his watch. "The man still lives on Russian time."
"You have a problem?" A heavy accent reverberated around the empty rooms as Alek Baklanov joined the rest of the team. "It gives me that little extra time to say goodbye to your ladies."
"In your dreams Baklanov," Enrique refuted the tall blonde Russian's implication. "Our girls look for taste, class and más carne que usted lleva dentro de sus pantalones rusos. "
The others chuckled at Salinas' reference to size 'really does' matter.
"Don't you worry about my 'meat' Salinas," Baklanov leered as he grabbed his crotch and gave it a lewd squeeze.
"If you boys are quite finished," Creel snapped, bringing each man back to the reason he had called the meeting. "I have a job for us. How would you like to get some poetic justice, and at the same time earn half a mil each?"
So Creel had left off a couple of numbers that made up the four million in total they would be paid by Ortega, he deserved it. After all, he was the one that found out about the bounty, took the risk in going to Bogota. It will be his face that Alejandro Ortega will remember should it all go wrong. Anyway, he'd wanted out, and getting paid Two million dollars to deliver Frank Donovan to his death seemed like the perfect way to finish his illustrious career as a paid mercenary.
Looking from man to man, Kovak could see they were all of the same mind, "I agree, and I think we're all in 'harmony' here, Creel. So what's the job?"
"I, myself am feeling very lyrical at the sound of that much folding money," Ragget grinned, "Who do we have to kill?"
"No killing this time." Creel cryptically explained. "We are merely postmen, picking up and delivering a package to Alejandro Ortega in Bogota."
"A kidnapping?" the Russian shook his head. "I don't know. After last time....We got nichevo ."
"Yeah, but neither did they in the end," Ragget smirked as looked at his knife, remembering the feeling as he cut their hostage's throat with its razor sharp blade.
"Yes, Ragget, we know, you enjoy your work," Creel acknowledged before focusing on the team as a whole. "This is not a kidnapping, it is a trade. A certain package for crisp US dollars. Anyway, how can you negotiate, if you don't have a negotiator?"
Kovak's face broke out in a broad smile, as he shook his head and looked up at Creel, "Our target is Frank Donovan, isn't it, Creel? I see no more poetic justice than taking the man that cost us a million dollars."
"Hey, Kovak, be nice," Enrique sniggered. "The man's going to make us more than a mil interest on what he owes us."
Creel worked his deadliest glare on the one member of the team whose temper was the hardest to control and reiterated Alejandro's directions to him alone, "Ortega wants Donovan alive, Ragget, and if we want our money, that's how he's going to get there, understand?"
"I can do 'alive'," Ragget maliciously smiled. "When it's worth it to me."
Satisfied, Creel opened the suitcase he brought with him and pulled out all the intelligence he had on the leader of the UC, "Okay, gentlemen, let's get this operation underway."
TBC