But despite the emphatic nod she gave as she spoke, Svetlana felt a knot of fear squeeze her insides.
She allowed Caroline to sort through the trunk and grinned at Patricia.
“Your turn next time, if there is one.” But the bombardier looked merely uncomfortable, worrying about their safety. The pilot turned and went downstairs, absenting herself from the giggling pair, electing to take a walk in the woods instead.
An hour later, Svetlana had made up her own face and then Caroline’s, and the pilot had to admit that she looked chic, elegant and in fact pretty damn sensational, in revealing clothing bearing designer labels. However, had her Mother been present she would have a stroke to she could see her daughter attired as if expecting to collect an award at a porn industry ceremony.
The last item Svetlana put on was a thin gold belt, and after checking the batteries of the Walkman given her by Scott, she clipped it to the belt.
Pat didn’t know how he was summoned, but their CIA contact arrived outside in his old but reliable van, keeping the engine running whilst the heater attempted to produce something resembling warmth.
Genuine sable coats and hats, the badges of office of the high class Muscovite call girl, kept out the cold on the journey to the northern outskirts of the city. They travelled by the back roads into the suburbs where their contact dropped them outside a warehouse used for vehicle storage. Caroline listened to Svetlana sweet talk the night watchman, without understanding a word, into opening up for them, adding a ten dollar US bill for his trouble, along with some papers. Despite the war the dollar still held more clout in Russia than the rouble; it disappeared into the man’s pocket as he led them into the depths of the building. Eventually they came to the long-term storage area and the watchman checked the bay number on the paperwork handed over by the Russian against those painted on the walls behind the bays. On reaching the correct space, the watchman pulled off a dustcover from a Mercedes sports car, and checked the registration plates tallied with those on the forms.
“It has been maintained as agreed Miss, the oil changed once a year, the engine run every week… every week for six years Miss, have you been away?”
“Yes, in St Petersburg.” She delved in a pocket of the expensive fur and extracted her set of keys as she walked around the car, running a hand over the red paintwork in a caress before coming around to the driver’s side.
The night watchman stepped forward quickly to open the door for her, and Pat watched the Russian girl give him a beatific smile, slide elegantly behind the wheel, whilst adding a wink as she allowed the coat to fall open briefly, permitting a view of white lace gusset framed by silky thighs.
Christ on crutches, thought the American, she is terminally incorrigible!
As her own door was held open for her, she kept the coat close about her legs.
“Lana, was it really necessary to give the guy a hard-on?”
Svetlana grinned back.
“Well what can I say, the gal’s a slut, and besides, I’m getting into character.” She turned her attention back to the car, inhaled the scent of leather upholstery, and turned the ignition key.
The engine fired first time and she goosed the accelerator, allowing the car to roar. Svetlana ran her fingers over the wheel and patted the top of the dash, purring aloud to herself like a contented cat.
“Hi baby, mommy’s home!”
In the annex to Derjinsky Square the time was just before 9 pm as a pop-up appeared on the screen before Timoskova, alerting him to the fact that someone was home at a target address. The sound activated microphones came to life, and the cameras that had been in hibernation, the battery saving mode, took in the scene in each room.
Although it was virtually impossible for him, or anyone else, to erase the information beyond a point where an audit could not ferret it out, he took up a pen and recorded the event in a log.
Despite over fifty premises being under electronic surveillance, and only himself pulling the night shift, he did not expect to be overwhelmed with work. Most of the occupants had left the city, leaving only maids to tend to the houses. The apartments held a greater number of their principle inhabitants, whereas the dachas were virtually empty. It was the same old way of things, houses for wife and family, city apartments for mistresses and dacha’s for clandestine plotting, plus entertainment by whores, of course.
Anyone who could have got away from the city, but a few of the mistress’s remained, as had a small proportion of the high-class call girls.
Although Timoskova would have been annoyed had he been accused of voyeurism, it was that very vice that night duty on the special surveillance detail bearable.
Up until now the evening and been pretty humdrum, tiny peccadilloes of the serving classes and a mistress engaging in phone sex with a man other than the one who paid the bills.
He checked the address of the new location, it was another dacha, and that made two that were being occupied after long absences. The general of air defence forces for the capital and its surrounds owned this latest one, and the state security man felt a sense of anticipation, the general was a randy old goat with a taste for expensive ladies. He doubted a peep show would occur at the first dacha, the only passion ever expended there was in the owners’ enjoyment of traditional Ukrainian folk music.
Double clicking on the pop-up, a window appeared on screen, giving him access to the cameras in every room of the general’s country retreat. He allowed the live feed from the living room and bedroom to occupy a window apiece, because the general was hurrying back and forth between both, lighting the log fires in each, and laying out supplies. Champagne, vodka, caviar, and some dildos that would have been impressive on a small horse, had they been the real thing. Company in the form of the oldest profession was obviously expected, so the evening would not be one of utter boredom in the annex.
Drunkenness on duty was a breach of discipline that would be punished by a bullet, but a single beer to while away the night, well that was a different kettle of fish, and one that a blind eye would be turned to, if discovered. Timoskova had a bottle secreted away, and he checked that the general’s companion had not yet arrived, before he left his post to retrieve it, he’d have himself a cold one whilst enjoying the upcoming display of carnal talents.
Opening the bottle he took a sip as he returned to his workstation, where he saw a further pop-up was flashing a warning, and he cursed aloud because the general had finished his preparations and was looking expectant. Placing the beer atop the monitor he got busy with his mouse, grunting to himself when he identified the source as being another dacha. The fresh location was a place rarely visited, and then he whistled when he identified the owner, about as high as you could go in the service of the state.
Opening windows to the visual feeds he saw not just the owner, but three others there too, all four were in uniform, the shoulder boards and insignia of the KGB, Navy, Air force and Army were present.
What the hell was going on? By all rights the person wearing that KGB uniform should be at the Premiers side, not out in the woods with officers from the fighting services.
He double-checked that the hard drive was collecting the data, and created a separate file for this last address, before inserting a blank CD into the writer, he would err on the side of safety and ‘burn’ a back-up copy.
Whilst all this was going on, loud music was turned on at the KGB officer’s dacha, and the officer had a hand held scanner in play, sweeping for hidden recording devices. Timoskova smiled when he saw, and heard, the lengths being gone to in order to provide secrecy. In this day and age it took more than retiring to the bathroom and turning on the taps to prevent every word being listened to, eventually anyway. He didn’t worry about the scanner performing as advertised either, because he had personally installed the tiny cameras and microphones in that building just a few days before.