A/N: Thanks to my beta Avidfan16 for proofreading this chapter.
I'm sorry about taking so long to write this chapter. I've been dealing with a major writers block with my Home Alone fanfics and dealing with personal issues. I have to thank my newest fanfiction Star Trek Edison:A Muddled Reawaking for giving me back my muse to write Home Alone.
Three Against Three: Chaos in New York
Arc Six: There's Danger Ahead.
Part 2: The Stockholm Affair!
December 23, 1991-9:35 P.M.
On the Plane to New York City
(Peter's POV:)
The flight to New York City had been anything but restful as the plane slipped through the clouds jolting with the sporadic turbulence that mirrored the unrest swirling in my mind. Shadows of nightmares from my past crept into my mind every time I tried to close my most haunting being an incident that occurred ten years ago in Stockholm with my sister Andrea.
Under the advisement of my Father, I decided to keep the truth about what happened in Stockholm a secret from Kate and Christine. I still remember the emotional turmoil that Kate suffered though when I was deployed to Vietnam in the late 1960's. Another traumatic experience that left scars on both Kate's and I minds and hearts that had yet fully healed.
Thankfully, my wife, Kate, hadn't noticed my restlessness. Across the aisle, she sat with her brow furrowed, the weight of worry etched across her features. Her focus was on our feverish daughter, Megan, who was still plagued by nightmares of her own—terrifying visions of her missing siblings in the dizzying expanse of New York City.
As I closed my eyes once more, hoping to find a fleeting moment of tranquility before landing, I was acutely aware that the past doesn't easily let go.
(Flashback)
October 7, 1981.
12:30 A.M (Swedish Time)
Stockholm, Sweden.
(Peter's POV:)
I could already feel the tension in the air, a knot tightening in my stomach. Christine, my mother, and—most importantly—my wife, Kate, would have my head if they knew I was in Stockholm on Agency business. The irony was that it was my father who orchestrated this whole operation, despite his supposed retirement from this line of work.
My family just thinks I'm in Stockholm ona routine business trip for the financial firm I work for and that was the cover story I fed to Swedish Customs to deflect any suspicions about my truth purpose about why I'm really here. My Mother would be even more furious, if she found out that my father knows my sister Andrea is also here in Stockholm.
According to the briefing my sister gave me about the assignment, the Agency's mission here in Stockholm is to retrieve a dossier containing valuable treasury bonds and an encrypted computer disk that were stolen by a group of KGB agents from an Agency outpost in London several weeks ago.
In a twist offate, a coded message from one of the Agency's informants inside the KGB reported that two disillusioned KGB agents are willing to meet with someone within the Agency to return the stolen dossier in exchange for asylum and safe passage back to the United States.
The night skies were clear, the air was cold, and all this waiting was making me nervous, plus I'm scared I was going to blow this meeting by getting my part of the recognition code wrong. The defectors had insisted on a discreet nighttime rendezvous for their own safety.
"Any signs of the defectors Andrea?" I asked my sister quietly, as she continued to maintain surveillance on the pier that overlooks the Söderström River where the meeting with the KGB agents is supposed to take place.
Andrea shook her head, indicating a negative answer and asked, "Are you going to be okay handling the meeting with the Agents alone?" I could see her worry mirrored in her deep brown eyes that matched the color of her hair.
"I'm going to be fine, Andrea. All I have to do is give them my part of the recognition code, and everything should go smoothly from there." I reassured her.
''Just wanted to make sure, big brother."
"Colville to McCallister siblings. Come in please. It's Urgent!" Colville's voice pleaded though the two-way radio.
"Andrea here. What's up, Gabrielle?" She replied, her focus unbroken.
"Kositchek has just spotted the two Soviet defectors heading your way with the package. Tell your brother to be on his guard when meeting them. Our defector friends seem to be really apprehensive about the exchange." She informed us.
"We see them Gabi. You, Scofield, and Donovan better get in position on the pier like we planned." Andrea ordered, as she looked though her night vision binoculars. She pointed out to me the two defectors whom I supposed to meet.
"Copy that. We're taking our positions now. Colville out." The radio fell silent.
Turning to me, Andrea's face softened a mixture of affection and anxiety. "Peter, I love you. Just… please be careful. I don't want to have to explain to Kate, Christine, or our mother why I had to bring your lifeless body home when they think you're on a business trip." Her voice quivered as tears began to shimmer in her eyes.
I took a deep breath and enveloped her in a tight hug. "I love you too, Andrea. But I've made it clear that I need to do this on my own. The defectors might react violently if they see us together. Just have the team ready to step in if anything goes wrong."
I dabbed away her tears with my thumb and stepped back, heart heavy, as I made my way down the pier to meet the KGB agents.
Underneath my collar, I felt the reassuring weight of a listening device, allowing Andrea and her team to eavesdrop on our upcoming conversation. Concealed by my overcoat were several smoke and stun grenades, courtesy of Agent Don Scofield. Tucked in my coat pocket was a loaded Beretta M9—an unwelcome reminder of the violence I had already witnessed in the Vietnam War.
As I approached the two agents leaning against the wall of a nearby warehouse, I took a moment to assess them. The male agent, around 5'5", with light brown hair and a square face, was nervously smoking a cigarette. His partner, a female about 5'2", with dark blonde hair and a round face, also wore an anxious expression as they stood in their long black overcoats and winter caps. The male clutched a satchel that likely contained the dossier.
Well it's now or never, as I put on my best poker face and asked the male KGB agent "Excuse me sir, but by chance, do you know who's on first?"
Both agents quickly went on alert, hands close to their coat pockets, as they kept their eyes focused on me. I kept my hand far away from my coat pocket, to avoid provoking them. The female agent eyes showed fear.
The guarded expression on the male stayed, as he replied in broken English "I'm sorry, but I only knowLaurel and Hardy are always on second." The man's accent sounded Russian, but with a bad cold.
The female agent finally understood what was going on, but remained on the defensive as she replied in English "And Abbott and Costello are always on third." Her accent was also Russian, but softer spoken.
"And the Three Stooges brings them all home in the end." I finished the last line of the recognition code.
Both KGB agents breathed sighs of relief knowing they were now in safe company.
"I'm Britta Stoch, and this is my partner Yuri Novikov," She introduces themselves, as she continued to speak," My partner and I wished to express our apologies with our paranoia, but it was necessary for our own safety. The both of us became traitors and hunted fugitives to our homeland the moment we left the Soviet Union. My partner and I both humbly requests asylum to stay in the United States of America in exchange for returning the Dossier, yes?"
"Your paranoia is quite understandable Ms. Stoch, and as for your request of asylum. That can be arranged without any problem, once we get the both of you to the U.S. Embassy here in Stockholm." I heard my sister speak, as she came into view alone, quickly flashing her identification badge to prove her authority as a United States agent, as she reassured both Britta and Yuri that she can be trusted.
"Yuri and I are deeply grateful to the both of you, and to fulfill our part of the agreement as promised, here's the dossier that was stolen from your country." Britta declared. Her partner quickly handing it over to Andrea.
"Well, we better get you both to the embassy because we're bound to attract the wrong attention if we keep standing around here." Andrea says, as she looked around the area and signaled everyone to move out.
The four of us barely took one step when another voice suddenly spoke.
"You four remain where you are, unless you want to die on this pier. Keep your hands where we can see them." Barked out the voice of acurly blonde Russian female, with an accent that sounded like a pig grunting from a bad case of constipation and a pig face to match. She pointed her gun at us, while several of her accomplices stood beside her with their own guns pointed at us.
My heart raced,Britta just trembled in fear her hands shaking, while Yuri remained calm, his hand slowly lowering close to his coat pocket. I could sense his anger growing towards Pigface. Andrea, on the other hand stood in defiance, refusing to back down from Russians. I silently prayed for our escape and the chance to make it back home to my wife and children.
A sharp whistle from Andrea pierced the air, swiftly followed by a resounding bang and a thick cloud of white smoke that billowed across the pier, offering us a crucial veil of protection.
"Alright, everyone! Get behind that metal shipping container!" Andrea shouted, her voice slicing through the mayhem. We ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding a lethal barrage of bullets fired by the relentless KGB agents.
Scofield, Donovan, Colville, and Kositchek were already in position, guns drawn and returning fire with pinpoint accuracy. Scofield quickly hurled a fragmentation grenade while I followed suit, launching a smoke grenade toward the KGB.
The air erupted with the deafening explosions. Shrapnel from the frag grenade sent several agents sprawling, while the smoke grenade enveloped the pier in a dense, protective haze.
"Okay, here's the plan. Peter and I are going to empty the satchel that contains the dossier and use it as bait to draw the KGB away from Yuri and Britta. The rest of you are to get Britta, Yuri, and the dossier safely to the U.S. Embassy.
"Like hell you're Andrea," snapped Kositchek. "Our orders are to ensure the safety of the dossier and the defectors at all costs," he continued, his voice stern and authoritative. "We can't afford to lose it again."
Andrea nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I know, but we need to split up to increase our chances. Peter and I will lead them away. You get Yuri and Britta to safety."
Scofield, Donovan, and Colville exchanged glances, realizing the wisdom in Andrea's plan. They nodded in agreement, readying themselves to move out with the defectors.
As the smoke cleared, Andrea and I made a break for it, sprinting away from the container with the satchel in hand. The KGB agents, seeing us with the decoy, gave chase, their focus diverted from Yuri and Britta.
Bullets whizzed past us as we weaved through the maze of shipping containers on the pier. Andrea fired several shots over her shoulder, keeping our pursuers at bay. We reached the edge of the dock and without hesitation, we plunged into the icy waters below, swimming towards the sewer entrance that we had scouted earlier as a potential escape route.
Emerging from the water, we quickly found the manhole cover that led to the underground sewers. With a combined effort, we pushed it aside and climbed into the dark, damp tunnel. The cover of the sewer system provided us with temporary shelter from the gunfire, but we knew the KGB wouldn't be far behind.
The stench of the damp Stockholm underground sewer network quickly filled my nostrils, as Andrea and I slid down the ladder and now were running for our lives trying to get away from the hostile Soviet agents that were chasing the both of us.
"There's those meddlesome American's, Andrei! Let's get them! They will be our ticket in retrieving the dossier, and uncovering the traitors who betrayed the Motherland." I watched the pig faced Russian agent shouted at her cohort who bore a striking resemblance to a disgruntled Tim Curry, his expression twisted in irritation. She pointed at us, and unleashed a volley of gunfire in our direction, fortunately missing us both.
"We have to hurry Peter and lose the KGB because we're dead if they catch us, when they realize we don't have the dossier." My sister Andrea warned, as she returned fire from her Glock 19 10mm pistol, killing two of the agents, while I threw a stun grenade and returned fire from my handgun at the remaining Soviet agents, killing two more agents.
"Come on Peter, let's move." Andrea motioned me to follow her, after the grenade exploded. The Russians were now cursing and coughing from the plume of blinding smoke that came from the grenade.
As we sprinted deeper into the labyrinth of the sewer, I suddenly found myself face to face with the pig-faced agent. In an instant, she lunged forward and delivered a brutal punch to my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I doubled over, gasping for breath as darkness threatened to close in around me. Tears welled in my eyes as thoughts of Kate and our children flashed through my mind. How could this be it? I couldn't bear the thought of never seeing them again—never holding them, never laughing with them.
Just as the Russian agent smirked at my suffering, a flash of movement caught my eye. Andrea, with determination in her gaze, charged at the nearest KGB agent—her Glock blazing. In a split-second moment of desperation, she drew a sharp knife from her belt and slashed it across the side of the blonde male agent's face. The slice left a jagged scar, and he howled in pain, recoiling as she quickly regained her composure.
That's when he swung back, aiming for her, but in a swift maneuver, she dodged him and pulled back, darting towards me. "Peter, get up! We can't stay here!"
Before we could regroup, the pig-faced agent advanced on me again, ready to deliver another blow. But just then, out of the shadowy depths of the sewer, a mysterious figure emerged—a man in a dark trench coat, his expression unreadable. He pointed a gun at the Russian agents and yelled, "Enough! Back off!"
The sudden appearance of the Agency's elusive Pawn turned the tide. With precision, he dispatched the remaining agents before they could react, leaving only chaos in his wake.
As the dust settled, the sound of sirens echoed from above, and it wasn't long before the flashing lights of the Stockholm Police lit up the tunnel entrance. The remaining agents, still disoriented from the chaos, tried to retreat, but Andrea and I found ourselves handcuffed and pushed to the ground.
"Detain dem all! Ya, get dem down on da ground! Dis iz a mess, a big mess!" The Swedish police officer shouted, gesturing towards us and the downed Soviet agents. Their desperation to escape had come to naught, as they were now caught in the crossfire of an international debacle.
As we were led away, I caught a glimpse of the Pawn who had saved us. He simply smirked and slipped into the shadows, eluding being caught in the tight grip of the authorities.
The aftermath of what is now termed the Stockholm Affair was kept under wraps. The Swedish government was furious over the blatant violations of their sovereignty by both the Agency and KGB.
In a gesture of peace, the Soviet government left the captured KGB agents, who had tried to kill Andrea and me, to face the mercy of the Swedish judicial system.
My father and Agent Jessica Webster worked tirelessly to secure our release from the custody of the Säkerhetspolisen (Swedish Security Service), but it came with a stringent condition: Andrea, myself, and her team were prohibited from setting foot on Swedish soil for a decade.
When my mother eventually learned the truth behind the events in Stockholm, the fury she felt was tangible. It grew exponentially when my father imposed a gag order on her, forbidding her from revealing the truth to Kate. In the wake of this decree, my father found himself on the receiving end of my mother's wrath, enduring a two-week regime of purely soft foods as a consequence. Penelope McCallister is certainly not someone you want to provoke.
As for the dossier, it turned out the bonds were worthless; however, the disk it contained held top-secret information about the Agency's operations—agent names, spies, defectors, codewords, assignments, special projects, and more. According to my father, if the Soviets had obtained that information, many would have been forced into hiding, including some members
On a more positive note, Britta and Yuri made it safely to the Embassy, where their plea for asylum to reside in the United States was granted. As for the enigmatic Pawn... well, that remains a mystery.
December 23, 1991-9:45 P.M.
On the Plane to New York City
(Peter's POV:)
"Andrea, Stockholm, KGB, Gunfire, Run Andrea run, I hold them off…" I screamed, my voice breaking through the haze of sleep. Distorted echoes of shouting filled my ears.
"Wake up, Peter. Wake up. You're scaring your wife half to death with your loud, insane rambling. You better wake up, little brother, before I slap you silly," Frank warned, his voice a blend of concern and brotherly teasing.
I opened my eyes to find Kate shaking and trembling, her expression fraught with anxiety as Leslie held her tightly, offering whatever comfort she could. "It's okay, Kate. He's just having a nightmare," Leslie soothed, her eyes darting between me and my frightened wife.
"Peter, what was that all about?" Kate asked, her voice trembling.
"It's nothing, just a nightmare," I lied, forcing a smile even though the truth hung heavy in the air like a dark cloud.
Frank raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced but deciding to let it go for now. The truth of Stockholm stayed locked away, a secret too dangerous to share.
END