Cpl. Maria "Anya" Allen AKA Inner Circle Codename: Anya (CIA Deep Cover Operation: Honeypot)
Task Force 141 / The Inner Circle
Paris, France
They were in Paris to meet with the rest of the Inner Circle, and it was only then Anya realized that the scale of the Inner Circle was larger than she had anticipated. They had weapons caches, command centers and training barracks all over Europe.
She had been introduced to them as Makarov's personal agent, that she would be participating in their operations he saw fit. Makarov's own team were comprised of the most skilled combatants amongst the Inner Circle, men that he had fought with in his days as a soldier.
Being back in tactical gear gave Anya a sense of comfort. She ran the training course that had been in the warehouse and completed it in 20 seconds. The men were impressed. It was exactly the same as her last attempt in back in the Task Force 141 land-base. Ghost and MacTavish had been the record holders at 17 and 18 seconds, a memory that she kept to herself.
At the shooting range. Anya proved her skill as a sharpshooter. In training sessions, she had shown her natural instinct to support her teammates with covering fire. Everything was instinct the moment she held a rifle in her hands.
"Very impressive," Makarov praised when she finished all the parts of the training regiment.
"Thank you, sir," Anya thanked. She had kept her habit of maintaining at least a modicum of professionalism, and it made his men laugh. They were no longer soldiers, while she had been fresh out of the military. Old habits died hard, but she also had the role of the FNG to play.
"Her pedigree is top-notch," commented Anatoly.
"She'll certainly come in handy," Viktor added.
It was at that time when Anya realized that she had been the ultimate candidate for this mission. Makarov's men, the literal inner circle of the Inner Circle, had all known him from his days in the Spetsnaz. They knew how he moved, how he operated. It was exactly like how she was within the 141. The only difference would be that she was now on a completely different end of the chessboard.
Camaraderie was easily formed. All one needed was enough alcohol and a sense of humor that could accommodate toilet humor and dick jokes. Men would always be men. When the alcohol flowed, they talked. When there was a woman that was one of the boys, they talked even more.
"Yuri would like you very much, Anya," said Kiril, another one of Makarov's own agents.
"Where is he?" Anya asked.
"He is away on assignment," Lev answered, swatting Kiril in the arm. It was a tell that Kiril had said something that he should not have. "He won't be back for a long time." There was no doubt that the one that was observing her, the one that brought her to the hospital was Yuri.
"What is he like?" Anya continued.
"Yuri has been with Makarov the longest, from when the party had just been founded, or even before," Viktor answered. "He's the closest thing that Makarov ever had to a real friend."
"And what are you guys then?" Anya asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Cannon fodder, just like you."
The men and Anya laughed. It had been a bitter parallel. Shepherd considered all his soldiers to be little more than cannon fodder. Anya could see the humor of it.
Makarov was no longer amongst them, but she knew that the men would provide her with more context that he ever could. Speaking with them would enrich the intel that she would bring home.
Yuri
The Inner Circle
Paris, France
"I do not want to be the bastard that said, 'I told you so', but ever since you took Anya to your bed, she's changed," Yuri said. "She's no longer scared like when she first came to us." Every move that Anya made was deliberate, calculated. Even the way she walked changed because of that newfound confidence.
Makarov let out a harrumph of agreement. "She's even using the men to dig around for information about you, as it seems," he replied. "What do you propose?"
"You kill her now before she gets into your head," Yuri answered. "Or… she'll be the one that does it."
"Anya has not served her full purpose yet," Makarov said. "She is doing more than just warm my bed, Yuri. I thought that you'd understand that."
"Then you need to tell me what you need her for," Yuri retorted. "You can have any woman in the world, why her?" In truth, Makarov had only told him that Anya was joining them mere hours before Batkin brought her to them. He was wary of Anya because Makarov had told him to observe her. He had been more comfortable when she portrayed herself as the reluctant spy, but Anya as she was now screamed danger.
"Patience, Yuri," Makarov soothed. "All will be clear when the time comes. Have I ever led you astray?"
Yuri sighed. Makarov was right. Makarov had never led them to a path that he could not see the end of. When they joined Zakhaev's ranks after leaving the Russian military, they had been given power and riches. Yuri had never faltered.
"Yuri, I understand your concern," Makarov continued. "I haven't been the most open to you, but it is not out of choice. There are parts of my plans that I have to carry out alone. I hope that you understand."
Of course, Yuri understood. They were no longer mere soldiers. When Makarov took up the reins of the Inner Circle, their aim was to shore up as much power as possible, to wrestle as much influence in the government from Boris Vorshevsky as they could. To do this, they had to adapt.
Yuri took his leave of Makarov to think. However, the more he gave their conversation thought, the more he realized that Makarov was keeping a secret from him. Why would Makarov do that? Before he was even able to answer that question, more came its wake. How was Anya instrumental in his plan? Where did she come from? How did Batkin find her?
He knew that if Makarov would not answer those questions that he had, he would have to find the answers himself. It was because Yuri valued his friendship with Makarov that he had those questions. There must have been something that had caused Makarov to doubt him. If that was true, then what was it?
Mired in more and more questions, Yuri knew that he would have to start somewhere. If Makarov was so adamant that Anya was instrumental to his designs, he would then learn how this would be case, he knew the first step to uncovering that mystery was to find the identity of the man that Anya met in Brussels.
He sat before a computer and combed through their databases. The Inner Circle kept a record of their enemies as a result of Makarov's vengeful nature. Everyone that had wronged them would have to be brought to heel. Prisoner 627 who was currently rotting in the Monastery was a good example of that.
"Do you think it's wise to be here when Anya can see you?"
Yuri turned around and found Alexi, who was the commander of the Inner Circle's soldiers, second in command in the Inner Circle's military ranks.
"I am just trying to find out where Anya could possibly be from," Yuri answered. Alexi had been with Yuri when Makarov briefed them about Anya's imminent arrival and was naturally present to witness that Makarov requested that Yuri was to be the one that observed Anya until they were clear that she was not a spy. "Besides, she's with Makarov by now." Makarov kept a strict sleeping schedule, and by extension, so would Anya, as his woman.
Alexi shrugged. "I don't know if there's been any updates in the database," Alexi said, "But recently, we've had a lot of trouble from this organization that calls themselves Task Force 141. Problem is, whenever we try searching for them, even on the government databases, nothing comes up."
Yuri raised his eyebrow. "If they don't come up in any database, how did you know that they exist?"
Alexi's answer was simple. "We found their logo on their dead," he replied. "Here's the interesting thing. The Task Force 141 are made up of operatives with different nationalities. We've seen Americans, British, Australians, Canadians… We don't know if they are a private military company or, real soldiers."
"Have you notified Makarov of this?"
"Of course, I have," Alexi returned. "However, because we know so little about them, we couldn't do anything. We don't know what to input into their system, apart from their logo."
Alexi showed Yuri the logo of the Task Force 141 on the computer. It was that of a winged sword beneath a skull crowned by laurels. Yuri had never seen this logo before. However, the winged sword was familiar. It was that of the British Special Air Service. Could it be a coincidence that another organization might have appropriated the winged sword of the British SAS?
"Keep tabs on this Task Force 141 for me, Alexi," Yuri said. "Whatever you find, bring the information to me first. I'll pass it onto Makarov after some investigation of my own."
"Anything for you, Yuri," Alexi returned.
Cpl. Maria "Anya" Allen AKA Inner Circle Codename: Anya (CIA Deep Cover Operation: Honeypot)
Task Force 141 / The Inner Circle
Paris, France
"Wear this," Makarov told Anya, handing her a red dress from the wardrobe in their Paris hotel room. It was form-fitting but had a sculptural edge, emphasising the curve of her waist. The dress also had a sweetheart neckline that showed off the curve of her breasts.
Normally, Anya would balk at the notion of any man dictating what she wore. However, she knew that Makarov was familiar with the person that they were meeting for dinner, which meant that he knew how to whet their appetites. She put the dress on and found a new box on the dressing table. It was a pair of earrings made of platinum, resembling the ouroboros pin that he wore on his jacket exactly.
"These are for you," Makarov said, helping her to put the earrings on. "It is a small token to welcome you into the Inner Circle."
Anya thanked him with a kiss to the cheek. "They are beautiful, thank you," she said.
"Shall we?" Makarov asked, offering her his arm. "The heels are a necessary evil, though." He must have caught onto how she rather disliked wearing heeled shoes from how she had sprinted in tactical boots.
"I shall suffer wearing them for the cause," Anya joked, and went out the door with Makarov.
They were meeting with Vasily Zhukov, who was the Minister of War at one of the finest restaurants in Paris. In other words, Zhukov was the Kremlin. To throw off any further scrutiny, Zhukov brought his wife to the dinner meeting as well. It was designed to be a social call to anyone that was keeping tabs on Makarov or Zhukov.
"Vasily, I believe you have not yet met Anya, she was Dimitri's last protégé before his retirement," Makarov introduced Anya to Zhukov and Mrs. Zhukova.
Zhukov gave Anya a curt handshake, but Mrs. Zhukova said, "Anya, you look very young to be in the Spetsnaz. You must be very accomplished."
"Thank you, Mrs. Zhukova," Anya replied. She could have sworn that she caught the other woman looking at her cleavage for a moment too long.
Once the pleasantries have been exchanged, Makarov and Zhukov went straight into business. "That airbase that you were looking at, Vladimir, I've had the approval to expand and man it," Zhukov informed Makarov.
"Very good," Makarov replied. "You will see that it will greatly assist in our interests."
Anya committed the conversation to memory. She did not want to miss any single detail. Why did Makarov need to have an airbase in Kazakhstan, and why must Zhukov man it when Makarov himself already had the manpower to do it? A more pertinent question was also why Zhukov was taking instructions from Makarov when he was already the Minister of War?
Between trying to socialize with Mrs. Zhukova, and trying to gain more information, Anya discovered that the ouroboros had been the perfect metaphor for Russia, the Ultranationalist Party and the Inner Circle. Once Anya used that as a baseline, she managed to metaphorically separate the snake's head from its tail.
When the Ultranationalists won the elections, the party split into two. Boris Vorshevsky led the more moderate faction of the party, while the hardliners supported Makarov. In the earlier days, both maintained an uneasy peace until Makarov vowed to take action against the Western powers that killed Zakhaev. With his powers as President and the chairman of the party, Vorshevsky cast out Makarov of the party. What the world did not know was that Makarov had considerable influence within the party, so much so that even the Minister of War was doing his bidding.
Anya guessed that the plan that Makarov was building did not merely involve the Inner Circle. It had to be legitimate, the result of the will of nations. If the airbase was manned by Makarov's own men, it would have been nothing but a known terrorist outpost. However, if soldiers from the military of the Russian Federation manned it, it was a Russian airbase. Makarov was making a move to wrestle the control of the country from the President. Although she could see this outcome, Anya still had no proof that this was going to be true.
She knew one thing, though. She had to stay in the field as long as possible to uncover as much information as she could, no matter what the cost would be.
Throughout dinner, Anya could not help but notice that Mrs. Zhukova had looked at herself and Makarov with an intensity that likened her to a lioness ready to pounce. It did not take long for Anya to realize that she was wearing the dress to impress Mrs. Zhukova and not Zhukov. In order for Makarov to get to Zhukov, they would have to go through Mrs. Zhukova first.
At that moment, Anya understood why Makarov was not above using himself as bait where she was concerned. He had done so many times over, even submitting himself to the desires of a colleague's wife. That night, Zhukov did not join them for dessert, and Mrs. Zhukova returned with them to their hotel. It had become a free-for-all.
Anya and Makarov took turns in pleasuring Mrs. Zhukova. It had not been her first experience with a woman, but Anya found the night to have been utterly erotic. It stirred desires in herself that she never thought existed, and she found herself wanting to see other possibilities.
"Vladimir, the President is wary of Vasily now," Mrs. Zhukova told Makarov once she had her fill of whatever he and Anya had to offer her. "He has promised that he will do nothing when the time comes. That is all he can manage."
Makarov nodded, and kissed Mrs. Zhukova's hand. "Nothing is all I need him to do," Makarov answered. He then gestured to Anya to help her dress and fix her appearance so that she could return to Zhukov like how he left her. A task that Anya did attentively.
Once Mrs. Zhukova was ready, she whispered into Anya's ear, "I hope to see you again, Anya. You and Vladimir look like a wonderful match."
Anya smiled and gave her a polite smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Zhukova," she said simply and ushered their guest out the door. "Does Zhukov know that his wife likes to… play?"
"No, he doesn't," Makarov said. "Or rather, he doesn't want to know."
Anya chuckled. "That was my first threesome with another woman," she admitted. "It was… interesting."
Makarov, who was sitting on the bed, rolled his eyes. "She tires me," he replied. "She expects her bedmates to do all the work."
"So that was why you made me wear that red dress, so that I can catch her eye and share the load with you?" Anya teased further.
Makarov pulled her into his arms, seating her on his knees. "My dear, if I had to submit to that woman's voracious appetites, you can most certainly do it with me," he growled, knowing clearly that she was trying to push his buttons.
"Especially if it's for the cause," Anya continued. She would have added more to her jokes but felt Makarov's lips crashing against hers instead. From her lips, he then moved to her collarbone, her shoulder and then between the folds of her bathrobe, where one of her nipples was already peeking out, sending fireworks to wherever his lips touched. "I thought that you were tired from Mrs. Zhukova, Vladimir?"
Makarov then looked into her eyes, and said, "Not when you are concerned, my dear." He then lowered her onto the bed and proceeded to have his way with her.
Task Force 141 Secure Communications Program initiating.
Connection established. 2 members in the room.
MA: Kingfish has Zhukov in his book. They are building an airbase in Kazakhstan.
JM: What's the base for?
MA: Unclear as of now. Kingfish has more influence in the government than we expected. The Inner Circle is also more organized and larger than we expected as well. I have been assigned into Kingfish's personal team. No sign of any active op yet.
JM: Good job. Are you well?
MA: Yes. Did you see the one that was following me in Brussels?
JM: Only the back of him. Buzz cut, tall and had tattoos.
MA: Did you see which tattoos?
JM: Negative, sorry lass.
MA: I have to go. Thank you, JM.