Quick Authors' Note: Starting with this chapter Kurt (Wolfman769) adds his writing talents.
February 24, 2000
The Crimea
Very Early Morning
Zarana didn't know whether to be amused or disgusted. She had been trailing Shipwreck since early yesterday morning. He had ended his day in what looked to be the seediest bar in the Crimea and was working on making an ass of himself. She wished she could just shoot him and get the whole affair over with. However, Cobra Commander had insisted that his death be made to look like an accident. As she continued to watch him, she figured he would probably take care of that himself. He was either going to drink himself into a coma, or find some stupid way to kill himself while intoxicated.
Part of her disgust lay with her fellow Dreadnoks. She had been forced to take Buzzer and Torch on the mission with her. No matter how much she had argued with Zartan that their presence was going to be more of a hindrance than a help, he insisted that she couldn't go alone. To make matters worse, they thought it would be a good idea if they hung out with Shipwreck. So at the moment she was watching Buzzer and Torch match Shipwreck drink for drink. She figured it was going to turn ugly soon, so she was at a table close by to make sure things didn't get out of hand. She was afraid they might blow their cover.
Shipwreck slammed down his glass, "So what do you guys think of the new government?"
"Eh?" one of the locals asked.
Shipwreck smiled and with his two index fingers made a pair of fangs under his mouth as he began to make a hissing sound. "The snakes, in the government."
One of the Australians in the group began to laugh loudly at Shipwreck's impersonation. Shipwreck began laughing too, despite a nagging feeling that he somehow knew the man. He scoffed at the idea. Why would I know anyone in the Ukraine? A couple of the locals joined in the laughter and a third one said, "Snakes, they are bad. They'll bite you in the ass."
The comment got the group laughing even harder. Shipwreck stood up. As he stood there swaying he announced to the group, "Speaking of snakes, I have to go drain mine." He then wobbled to the bathroom, unaware that Torch and Buzzer were following him.
Zarana immediately jumped out of her seat and ran after them. She put one hand on each Dreadnok and said, "Will you gentlemen be dolls and help me with my car out back?"
Buzzer turned to look at her like she lost her mind. "What in the bloody hell?"
She squeezed his shoulder tighter digging her nails into his flesh. In a very annoyed whisper she said, "Shut the hell up, you bloody fool, and come with me outside."
Once outside, and safely away from prying ears, she turned on them. "Just what do you think you were doing?"
"Carrying out our orders. We were going to whack him in the bathroom," Torch replied.
"Idiots! The Commander told us to be subtle. There's nothing subtle about shooting a man in a public bathroom in a bar!"
"But, Zarana!" Torch protested and received a hard slap against the back of his head.
"We're supposed to be undercover, you fool. Don't use my name." She shook her head. "Let's get out of here before you morons do anything else stupid. I know where Shipwreck is staying, we'll wait for him there. He'll meet some unfortunate accident when he comes stumbling home tonight."
Sheremetyevo Government Barracks, outside Moscow
0430 Hours, local time
The shrill ringing of the telephone woke Duke from a deep sleep. He nearly leaped out of his bed rack, before realizing what the sound belonged to. After drawing a breath and allowing the phone to ring once more, he answered it.
"This is Sergeant Hauser," Duke said in a sleepy voice, trying to mask his displeasure at being awakened by the noise. He still had an hour to sleep before his normal "rise and shine" time, and was still getting accustomed to the jet lag from the team's trip over from the States.
"Starshina Hauser, you have been requested to meet with President Putin in one hour regarding a peace summit that the American Ambassador, you and your personnel are being asked to attend." Duke recognized the voice as the same Russian staff member that had annoyingly blown him off the day before. "The summit is to begin at nine o'clock this morning."
Although the notice was very short, Duke began to get a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, and it made him more alert to the functionary's words. "Yes, sir," he said. "I'll be there in one hour to represent my unit. But, why the sudden interest in me and my team?"
"Because Destro is arriving here with President Yelchichev," the staffer reported. "They are aware of your presence, and Destro wants to see you in person." Then the man hung up, without further explanation.
The ringing of the phone had woken Scarlett up as well. She had been sleeping soundly next to her husband in their shared private room and stirred when she heard Duke's hushed conversation. She was only inches away from her husband because the couple had moved the military issue bed racks together to form a makeshift double bed.
"What's going on?" she asked when Duke put the phone down.
"Destro decided to lead a mission to Moscow with Yelchichev, to meet with President Putin," Duke explained as he got out of bed. "Apparently, our esteemed Russian leader suddenly wants G. I. Joe's help. He wants me to meet with him in an hour."
"Do you want me to come?" Scarlett asked, pushing down the bed sheet and thick woven blankets from where they were wrapped around her body, and swinging her legs to the edge of the bed. "You know, to translate for you and keep an eye on his mannerisms and body language?"
Duke had to walk around their bed racks, in order to rifle through his footlocker and dig around in the closet where his neatly pressed Army greens hung. On his way, he wrapped his arms around Scarlett and gave her a soft kiss.
"I'm tempted to bring you along, Shana," he said. "Since diplomacy is obviously not my strong suit. However, there's no reason for both of us to be up at this ungodly hour. Muster Stalker and Snakes for morning chow, and tell them that we need to be ready to head over to the Kremlin before eight. Along the way, we'll set up a contingency plan, in case Destro wants to do more than just talk. If this first meeting with Putin runs long and I don't get back here, we'll meet at the main entrance to the Kremlin instead."
Scarlett took both of Duke's cheeks into her palms and stared at his steely blue eyes in the sparse moonlight that filtered into the barracks room's window. She could read his uncertainty in the azure pools, even though he made every effort not to show that he was out of his league dealing in international issues on his own.
"You just stick to what you know," she said, bringing her lips up to press them against his once more. "We'll back you one thousand percent. All the way, baby."
Duke blinked once, lost in the pools of his wife's knowing gaze. For a moment, he forgot about where he was and what problems the quartet of Joes could be facing. "I know," he whispered softly. "I have to go. See to things here, will you?"
"No problem, Conrad," Scarlett replied, letting go of his face. "I'll take care of it." When Duke focused his attention on gathering some soap and shaving materials, she laid back onto her pillow to get a couple more hours of sleep.
The Kremlin, Moscow
0700 hours, local time
Duke was waiting for the other Joes to arrive, standing outside the old, venerated complex of buildings that housed the seat of Russian political power. The ambient morning temperature was rather frigid, and the chill winds blowing through the city were more than the thinly lined Army Class "A" trench coat that he wore could withstand.
The Master Sergeant didn't really care much about how cold it was, since he just wanted to be out of the building. An inner frustration gave him all the heat that he needed. He was grumbling to himself over the fact that he was summoned at the crack of dawn, just so he could listen to President Putin instruct him to have the Joes shut up and smile during the entire meeting.
Duke replayed the points of the argument that he had made, asserting that the Joes' military support and advisory efforts could be compromised if the "enemy" knew of their presence in Russia, or elsewhere. And he was rebuffed with the statement that international diplomacy sometimes included a show of force, laying out some sort of strategic card on the table for the opposition to take note of. After all, having the Ukrainians know that America was on Putin's side could become an important bargaining chip. It was what the Joes' mission to Moscow was all about.
The net result of the whole exchange was Duke's realization that President Putin was prepared to lay the Joes out on the chopping block, if that was what it took to keep control of his own political position and insulate himself from trouble with the new Ukrainian regime. He would "volunteer" them as targets for Destro, playing them as a potential sacrifice to keep Cobra and the Ukraine from undermining his own fragile situation among the more powerful members of the Politburo, Russia's transitional parliamentary and legislative body. Putin could not afford to have his decisions challenged by some of the powerful, nationalist hardliners or the younger moderates who were steadily occupying more and more of the Duma, the newly organized representative body destined to supplant the Politburo.
Duke saw the black sedan that the team was using for nondescript transportation pulling into a driveway in front of the Kremlin, and his three teammates quickly joined him. In order to be less scary to the Russians, Snake Eyes had dispensed with his usual black commando headgear and wore a thin rubber mask, which concealed his permanent facial scars. Stalker and Scarlett wore their Class A uniforms, anticipating that they might have to be in the meeting room with Duke.
"So, Duke, the powers-that-be finally decided that we were useful?" Stalker asked, shaking his teammate's hand with a cold shiver.
"No," Duke replied. "We're just here as pawns, as usual. President Putin wants us to…"
He stopped when he noticed a dour look on Scarlett's face. "Shana… honey… what's wrong?"
Scarlett sighed deeply. She was trying to hold back her tears and looked like she was on the verge of breaking down, in spite of her tough, professional bearing. "Right before we left, I got a phone call from Dial-Tone," she said. "I wanted to wait until we were all together before… before I told you guys…"
Scarlett paused for a moment to shiver in the morning cold, before she got up the nerve to say what was bothering her. Duke, Stalker and Snake Eyes looked at her with questioning expressions. "Lady Jaye was killed in a car wreck two nights ago."
No one spoke, as Scarlett's words sunk in. Duke couldn't believe his ears. Lady Jaye… was dead? He had been joking with her not a week before, while preparing for the trip to Moscow, and now she was gone? After all the close calls with Cobra they had over the years it was ironic; it felt like a waste for her to die in a simple automobile accident.
He wondered how Flint would take the news. Even if the formerly romantic couple had been somewhat estranged of late, Duke was sure that Flint would still take the revelation pretty hard, especially if he was unable to get to her, because of the job at hand.
Duke's thoughts then drifted to how the news affected their mission in Eastern Europe. Lady Jaye had basically been the key to the mission's success, since all of the Joes were counting on her to provide the detailed inside information about Cobra's conspiracy in the Ukraine.
Even without knowing the details, his tactical mind instantly suspected foul play, and wondered whether the Joes' covert team in-theater had already been compromised and in danger of being captured or killed.
Unfortunately, there were bigger issues at hand than the death of a teammate. Thoughts of the other Joes working in Eastern Europe had to sit by the wayside. Duke knew they could all handle themselves admirably; that was why Hawk formed the units the way he did. He needed to put all the distractions out of his mind, to concentrate on the fast-approaching summit.
"I know that this is horrible news for all of us," Duke said. "However, we need to put the mission first right now, and focus on this summit meeting. I feel as bad as all of you, and don't want to seem cold about this, but we have our own jobs to do."
Duke wanted to outstretch his arms and take Shana into them, to comfort her obvious sadness. Had they been in a more private setting, he might have done just that. But Scarlett's eyes told him that she agreed and understood that the mission came first, if they were all going to get back home alive.
"Scarlett," Duke continued. "You and Stalker will come with me to sit in on the meetings with Yelchichev and Destro. Even if we're on short leashes, I still want our presence to appear strong. We also need to be ready to extract Ambassador Michaels if he is sitting in at the summit and shit starts rolling downhill."
Duke turned for a moment to face Snake Eyes. The silent, black-garbed commando gazed back at his team leader with the cold stare of an angry killer. "Snakes, do you think you could find a good hiding place where you can keep an eye on us?" Duke asked. "I don't think Destro would be stupid enough to try to shoot us or go after President Putin during this, but I want my bases covered."
Snake Eyes nodded his understanding and departed to figure out a walking pattern around the building, counting windows, doors and balconies, along with possible exit routes. He would later scout the inside with his teammates, when their security measures briefing was expected to begin. The other Joes, lost in their own individual thoughts over Lady Jaye, silently followed Duke inside to check into the building.
Outside British Embassy, Kiev
0730 Hours, local time
"So, love, are you ready to meet your fans?" Brant asked his wife as they sat in their car in the parking lot of the embassy.
Samantha smirked. "I think so. However the question is, are they ready to meet me?"
"You'll be fine. But, remember, if things get too hairy, you could always go back."
"Trust me, dear, I can take care of myself." She replied. She then ended the discussion by getting out of the car.
It took Brant a few minutes to get out of the car, unable to control the desire to take a look at his wife's ass. By the time he did get out of the car she was at the front entrance, being greeted by both the British and American ambassadors.
Edwin Wainright, the American ambassador, was grinning wildly as he shook Samantha's hand. "Just who is this amazing creature that has seemingly left your car like Aphrodite rising from the water?"
Both Brant and Samantha rolled their eyes. He had warned her that Wainright was the typical ambassador, more bullshit than substance, but she had no idea the extent he would go to ingratiate himself upon somebody. Before Brant could answer Samantha did it for him. "I'm Samantha. Brant's wife"
Stephen Cornell, the British Ambassador, retrieved Samantha's hand from Wainright's hand. "I have to admit, I didn't think you were coming. With all this drama going on I thought you would stay home where it's nice and safe."
"And miss out on the opportunity to see Brant? We planned this for too long to let a little thing like Cobra ruin our time together."
As Samantha talked Brant came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. "Now honey, I wouldn't call Cobra running this country a 'little thing'."
Samantha turned around and gave Brant a light kiss on the lips. "Well, that's the difference between you and I. I don't let snakes dictate my life."
"Don't let Brant sway you with his tale of gloom and doom. It's his job to talk like that," Wainright said. "Let's talk about something much better. I had popped over to extend an invitation for all of you to attend a little cocktail gathering I'm hosting for Cobra Commander. I expect nothing less than your acceptance, especially you Mrs. Rodgers. Mavis, my wife, will want to meet you."
"Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint Mavis. I'm sure we can make an appearance."
"Great. The festivities start at five this afternoon." Wainright smiled at the three of them and then started to walk back to the American embassy.
Cornell shook his head as Wainright left and then turned his attention back to Samantha. "That man is amazing. Anyway, it's a pleasure to meet you." He then switched his attention to Brant. "After you're done showing her around we need to discuss security arrangements. Wainright may think Cobra Commander is worthy of cocktails, but I refuse to make the same mistake our ancestors made with a certain gentleman from Germany over fifty years ago. I want to make sure our embassy and personnel are safe."
Brant nodded. "Yes sir." Cornell walked back into the embassy, leaving Brant and Samantha alone. "Damn yanks and their parties. I'm amazed they get anything done considering the amount of time they spend drinking."
The Pentagon, Washington DC23:30 hours (07:30 hours, Moscow local time)
"He said WHAT?" Hawk bellowed, slamming his fist on the desk in front of him. "Duke, you have got to be fucking kidding me."
"No joke, sir," Duke said from the other end of the secured satellite connection. "President Putin was contacted by telephone from the capital in Kiev. People from Cobra, the Ukrainian government, or both, are asking to meet with him concerning their neighborly relations." Duke was agitated at the news as well, but certainly calmer than Hawk. Maybe it was the time difference.
"Does the Ukraine have an embassy in Moscow?" Hawk asked, his temper subsiding as he nursed a cup of coffee.
"Well, they did," Duke reported. "But with the new regime, a decision was made to recall the chiefs of mission, attaches and ambassadors from all Ukrainian legations worldwide. The presumption was to prepare them for the anticipated need to explain the 'partnership' with Cobra. In Moscow, the top dog was a fellow named Kudusov. Right now, they only have a handful of caretaker staff and no one who can serve a diplomatic function."
"Shit." Hawk mumbled under his breath. The changes were taking place more rapidly than the daily CIA intelligence briefings he read were estimating. Even though he had no reason to suspect the sources of the briefing data, Cobra might have taken steps to accelerate the process of putting pressure on Russia, since they were still the biggest dog on the proverbial block. He made a mental note to see if Mainframe could get around the usual chain of command and cop some raw information from the DIA or NSA.
The general spoke in a more controlled tone to his most trusted non-commissioned subordinate. He also dismissed Mainframe with a wave; the computer technician had come running when he heard the initial commotion. They were both tired from working late. "Has President Putin said yes?"
"Sir," Duke began. "I tried to dissuade our friend Vladimir from accepting a summit meeting, let alone allowing someone other than Kudusov into any sort of consular talks. At least we knew Kudusov was pre-election and fairly honest. If he is not the one chosen to conduct the summit for Ukraine, whoever they send to assist Destro could be trouble…"
"… In more ways than one, Duke," Hawk said, finishing the statement.
If Hawk knew Cobra and how they operated, someone on the diplomatic team could even be an assassin, instructed to remove Putin during the talks. The resulting destabilization and surprise could bring a large nation such as Russia to a literal political and military standstill, as the bureaucracy figured things out. The military guarding the border would certainly be affected by the inability of their higher command to decide on and issue proper orders.
"The problem is," Duke added, "Putin's assistant called me at oh-dog-thirty this morning and told me to show my face in Vladimir's office about the details of the summit. The Ukrainian delegation is arriving into Moscow International Airport at nine this morning and coming right to the Kremlin. I wasn't sure whether I believed it when I heard."
"Duke, were you avoiding my question for a reason?" Hawk asked offhandedly.
"No, sir," Duke replied. "I'm just thinking out loud. I was never really that good at following international politics, but I am getting a crash course from Scarlett and some locals with the FSB's Second Chief Directorate. Those were the KGB guys that monitored internal activity. To answer your question, he did agree well before we even knew; it is down to the matter of Destro showing his silver puss here at the Presidential Complex, and what he has to say when he's here."
"Anything about the play that seems unusual?" Hawk asked.
"I wouldn't know what would classify," Duke said truthfully, "it all struck me as odd. General, all I know is that Putin's chief assistant said that our team should not be in the room other than myself. I sort of agreed with that; we don't want Destro to know which of us are in country unless the President decides to tell them. Cobra knows a lot about all of us, you know. But so far, the arrangements look like plain vanilla diplomatic shit, despite being on such a fast timetable."
"I would even stay out of the room if I could. Snakes, Scarlett and Stalker are being allowed to observe through the security cameras in the room, in case they catch something suspicious going on. Putin wanted everyone to be present, but I convinced him that I would be enough. I didn't want to put all of our eggs in one basket for Destro."
"Hold on a second," Hawk said. "Putin wanted the whole team there, but his assistant was telling you something else? That sounds odd in and of itself."
"Yes," Duke agreed, "but I saw the logic in the assistant's idea more than Putin's. The assistant may be a slippery little weasel, and a condescending cuss, but he's going to be in the room during Destro's visit. I can keep my eye on him."
Hawk nodded as his mind absorbed the report, even though Duke couldn't see his face. "Okay, Duke," Hawk said after a heartbeat. "I am sure you have enough on your mind. I want either you or Scarlett to draft me a report on the situation. Add to it any details during the summit you can pick up, and e-mail it securely to Washington ASAP once it's ready. I'll ask around here to see if anyone can give us a take on it, and I'll relay back to you. Good work, troop."
"Thanks, sir," Duke said quietly. Rubbing his chin and glancing with only his eyes back and forth at his solemn teammates, the veteran top kick hoped that his work was going to be good enough.
"You don't sound like your usual self, Duke," General Hawk said, picking up on a subtle change in the normally confident top sergeant's voice, like it had wavered just a bit from something else on his mind. "What else is going on?"
"Um - well -" Duke hesitated. "I don't know if you've heard yet. Dial-Tone called us on the secure line while I was meeting with President Putin." He gulped slowly. "He told Scarlett that Lady Jaye is dead."
"I think Dial-Tone called us, just in case Cobra compromised the rest of the team," Duke added. "Apparently, she died in a car wreck with one of the CIA's local assets. If you ask me, it smells bad - like foul play."
"I received Dial-Tone's report already, Duke," Hawk said, "and I suspect some sort of shenanigans are afoot too. But it's too early to tell."
"What do we do if the undercover team is compromised?" Duke asked. "Is there an exit strategy? Are we expected to drop everything and go in after them?"
"No, Duke," Hawk said. "For now, your team must keep doing what you're doing. Cobra needs to know that Russia and the United States will not allow their influence to spread beyond Kiev. Not without a fight. What happens to Flint, Dial-Tone and Shipwreck is the CIA's ball game now."
"Sir, with all due respect, that's bullshit!" Duke's cheeks began to turn red with anger, his outburst drawing the attention of his teammates. "Joes never leave their own behind! We can extract the rest of them right now, and truck out overland to a safe haven!"
General Hawk wasn't shocked at Duke's reaction. He tried to control his voice, but there was a little quake in it. He wished he could cut Duke loose and let him unleash the Joe quartet's fury on Cobra.
"You know that they knew the risks, Duke," Hawk said. "None of us can change what happened, but we must stand up and continue the fight. Just keep your eyes focused on the tasks at hand. Whatever happens in the next few days… we'll find a way to avenge her. All of us."
"I understand, sir," Duke replied sullenly, "we can handle our part. We have to go now."
"Go, son," Hawk whispered. "And keep your chin up. Don't let Cobra think they've won by taking out one of ours."
"Yes, sir," Duke acknowledged, breaking the satellite telephone connection with Washington.
Hawk hung up the phone in his office, shaking his head sadly. A fire began to burn in his belly, as the general swore to himself that he would bring the war to Cobra, whatever it took.
He suspected what Duke and the others did. Either the CIA was playing games, or Cobra had gotten to the team. Jaye wouldn't have slipped up. She was too good. No one was going to kill HIS Joes, and get away with it!
Washington DC
0100 Hours
By the fifteenth ring Jason Remington had no choice but to acknowledge the existence of the phone and its desire to be answered. For the first five rings he was still groggy and chalked the ringing up to his imagination. The five after that he ignored the phone in hopes that whoever was calling was either a heavy breather or just a wrong number. The final five rings had him sitting up on the couch, staring at the phone in hopes that it wasn't the late night call he always dreaded getting. Just as the sixteenth ring was starting he finally picked up the receiver. "What?"
"Damn, Remington, starting to sound just like your girlfriend."
He let out a sigh of relief. While he wasn't thrilled at having Bellows' personal assistant waking him up he could relax knowing that it wasn't something worse. "I was having a rather nice dream about the aforementioned girlfriend before you woke me up, Jeffries."
"Any images worthy of the Spice channel that you care to share with me?"
"Unless you get to the point in fifteen seconds I'm hanging up on you." It was times like these that Jason wished there was an answering machine in the office.
"Sorry, Bellows, wants you to meet him and General Hawk at the White House ASAP. Putin has apparently agreed to meet with Destro and everyone's getting dragged in to assess this latest development."
"What is this? Faster, faster, Panda wants some bamboo?" Jason flipped the table light on, already assessing where he tossed his jacket and shoes a couple of hours earlier.
Jeffries sighed and then spoke in a monotone, placating voice. He knew the drill."We could get someone else, but you're the only one in town and you know your stuff. You've always produced good work. Bellows has always held you in the highest regard and General Hawk is impressed with your work."
Jason grinned as he listened to Jeffries placating his ego. Not that he would or could actually turn down a personal request from Bellows, but he liked making Jeffries work for it. "Fine. I'll be there. Give me fifteen minutes." Before Jeffries could respond Jason hung up the phone.
Moscow, The Kremlin
09:00 hours, local time
Duke glowered while he stood outside the large conference room that had been set aside as an audience chamber for President Putin's meeting with Destro and his delegation. Officials and stewards in civilian clothes scurried in and out, setting out chairs and arranging the space for the arriving guests.
A quartet of stone-faced Interior Ministry security men stood stiffly at parade rest in the hallway, their eyes moving carefully to and fro as they observed the goings-on. The paramilitary guards were clutching AK-47 rifles with a visible, white-knuckled nervousness. Apparently, Destro's reputation preceded him in some circles.
Duke was musing about the sharpness of the guards that flanked him when the men snapped sharply to attention, their polished leather jackboots clicking on the shiny, refined stone floors in unison. President Putin walked past the conference room with some assistants, and Duke stepped out into the center of the hallway to attempt to halt the Russian, in order to make his latest entreaty for caution.
"Mister President," Duke said in a forceful tone, stopping the conversation between the president and his advisors as they halted before the blond American. "You MUST NOT go through with this without giving us a chance to screen the people Destro is coming here with! Not only is this a security risk, but we are literally letting the wolf into the flock of sheep!"
Duke hoped that the reference would strike a chord in Putin, who knew his childhood fables well.
An annoyed look crossed the president's face as he regarded the G.I. Joe sergeant. "And what am I to do, Starshina Hauser? Send them away? That is very undiplomatic."
"You should have given me some warning!" Duke argued. "I know Destro. He is certainly not trustworthy, even if he has no plans to directly attempt something here. He always has a hidden agenda."
"He is their chosen representative," Putin said, dismissing his advisors for a moment with a wave of his hand and a brief spoken order in Russian. "… And I think the ambassador from their embassy is coming too. I am required by international convention to extend Destro and his contingent the customary diplomatic respect, like I would to your Ambassador Michaels. Does the United States treat my diplomats with equal contempt or disrespect?"
Duke rubbed his chin unconsciously in thought. "Certainly not, Mister President," he said, "and I guess I have to concede your point. But please, sir, take my advice. Don't believe everything he tells you."
Duke didn't add that he would've preferred to have Ambassador Michaels in the room with Putin and Destro, rather than himself.
"Starshina Hauser," Putin warned softly. "I shall keep my own counsel as to what I am to believe. Please do not force your American sensibilities upon me. I am still the chief of state and leader of the Russian people. And you are simply an Army soldier, and a guest of my government. I understand your candor and dedication to your mission. But, who is more qualified to conduct statecraft between us? I think you know that answer."
"Da, Tovarisch President," Duke said, using the old "Communist" form of address to subtly make his displeasure known without Putin thinking him insolent. "I shall just sit here and look pretty." Duke spoke with a hint of disgust in his voice, doubting seriously whether Putin would understand his sarcastic jab.
President Putin didn't seem to care about Duke's concerns in any way. The man simply shook his head and summoned his advisors while walking towards his office. He only began speaking again, in Russian, after he had left Duke behind.
The Crimea
0900 Hours, local timeZarana thought she was mad last night. That was nothing compared to the rage she was feeling now. She spent the whole night waiting for Shipwreck to return to the cheap motel he had booked the day before. He never showed and she was forced to spend the night in the dilapidated car, listening to the snores of Torch and Buzzer in the back seat. After looking at her watch she decided that Shipwreck wasn't coming to the motel. She turned around and looked in disgust to the two poor excuse for humans. Torch had a large amount of drool sliding down his cheek, and they both reeked horribly. She picked up her purse and with an expert swing knocked them both in the head, waking them instantly.
"Wha..." Buzzer said as he sat up with a jolt. "Is he here?"
"No, and he's obviously not coming. Do you think you two low-lifes could go back to the bar and ask around for him? We need to find out where he is now."
"Sure thing, Zarana," Torch replied.
Zarana just shook her head again as she drove off.
Washington DC
0200 Hours
The outer office to the Oval office was full of the President's top advisors, waiting for him to arrive. As Bellows and Jason walked in Bellows spoke, "Giving Jeffries a hard time again I hear."
Jason said, "Somebody has to while she's gone." Before he continued speaking he looked around to see if anyone was listening. "Speaking of which, any word?"
"Outside of that calling card in the paper she's been silent. I do expect to get an update from her sometime tomorrow."
Jason nodded in gratitude for the update and Bellows gave him a reassuring pat on the back. Before either could begin to speak an aide opened the door to the Oval and signaled them to enter. The President began to speak as everyone situated themselves in the office. "First off, I think I speak for everyone in this room when I offer my condolences on the death of your agent, General. As an offshoot of that I need to ask how this affects your plans?"
"Thank you, sir," Hawk said, nodding as he did so. "We're still going ahead with the plan in regards to creating a resistance movement in Kiev and the neighboring cities. Gorman has graciously offered to try and get some information on the government level. It won't be the same that Lady Jaye might have gotten for us, but it looks like he has the contacts to get us something."
Both Jason and Bellows gave questioning looks to one another as Bellows made a note. While it was nice of Gorman to help out, both knew how vociferous he had been in his objections to Hawk's plan initially. The sudden change in attitude had them both on edge.
The President responded to Hawk. "That's good to hear, general. As you all are aware of by now Destro will be meeting with Putin as we speak. While on the surface this looks like a normal meeting between heads of state we all know better. I need to know how to look at this and what our options are."
Secretary of Defense Williams asked, "Is there anyway to connect this visit and the death of our agent in the Ukraine? Cobra's way of saying that they've got our number?"
"I don't think so," answered Hawk. "While her death is tragic there's nothing to indicate foul play was involved. None of the local papers actually identified who was in the car, but I'm sure Cobra knows. They knew we're after them, but exploiting her death right now would tip their hands."
Henderson was the next person to speak. "Communications traffic has definitely picked up but that's to be expected in a situation like this. Nothing out of the ordinary has come up in any of the items we've analyzed so far. There might be something nasty in the woodshed, but I'll be damned if I can find it."
All eyes turned towards Bellows and he nudged Jason to speak. He jumped slightly and began to organize his papers when he realized everyone was waiting on him. "Sorry…um…as far as we can tell this is as much a power play on Putin's part as it is Cobra's. As much as he wants to convince everyone he's the reformer our sources say he's probably better suited for communist totalitarianism than democracy. Allying himself with Cobra could give him the foundations he needs to crack down on his own problems. The Chechans are embarrassing his military and adding Cobra's men and equipment would change that state of affairs.
"They need each other. Putin meeting with Destro basically legitimizes them in the eyes of the other former Soviet states. He's basically opening the doors of goodwill for Cobra in that entire region. Cobra could give Putin what he needs to make Russia a major world power again. A military alliance could lead to a return of the Soviet bloc.
"Putin's the real wild card in all of this. He needs to solidify his own power base in time for the upcoming elections. He's basically popped out of nowhere to be acting head of a major nation. No one knows what kind of man he really is. As I said earlier, he wants to play the reformer but his KGB past and apparent willingness to do everything to crush Chechnya doesn't bode well."
"Then what are our options?" asked the President.
Jason continued to speak. "Right now we just sit, wait, and hope Hawk's people do their job. As long as Cobra is playing nice we won't be able to get the surrounding nations to let us use them as staging grounds for attacks let alone get a coalition of nations to pony up armies. They're still kind of touchy over our NATO bombing of the former Yugoslavia last year and will probably see any unwarranted attacks on our part in the same vein. All our previous dealings with Cobra have shown that the Commander suffers from a severe case of hubris. He'll get cocky somewhere down the line and make a move that we can play into our hands. We should definitely step up the pressure, painting him as the madman that he is to any form of media that will listen to us. Those countries may hate us, but they hate the idea of returning to any sort of dictatorship more and we need to work that to our advantage."
The President nodded in Jason's direction. "Thank you. That's probably the most informed opinion that I've heard from any Agency member's mouth in months. No offense Andy."
Jason sheepishly grinned as Bellows spoke. "No offense taken, sir. I know we've been dropping the ball lately, but hopefully this will end with a renewed confidence in my people."
"So do I. Anyway, I hate to cut this short, but I need to call Prime Minister Blair and work on getting him to support us. Thank you for your insight gentleman."