[FIC] To The Devil His Due, part 1 (Chapter X+3)
Posted: Sun Feb 01, 2004 5:31 am
Driven by globilization and the erosion of state authority, the international crime scene is changing rapidly, and significant diversification and penetration will occur with each passing year. Without being able to accurately predict global and economic conditions too far into the future, it is difficult to judge the extent and magnitude of the adverse changes.
Large criminal syndicates---Russian organized crime groups…the Sicilian mafia…ethnic Chinese groups like the triads---will remain powerful players. But, with every passing day, more and more highly skilled criminal entrepreneurs spring up like mushrooms, their actions often having significant and far reaching effects.
Individuals or small criminal groups with high-tech computer skills and telecommunication capabilities are becoming thorns in the sides of law enforcement agencies and national governments. They can turn huge profits without establishing the massive infrastructure of the large syndicates. The large groups are not growing stagnant. While there is a significant amount of cooperation amongst those groups now, it will likely decrease as each syndicate becomes better equipped to produce, market, and distribute illegal drugs and other contraband. Conversely, there may be more and more cooperation amongst the smaller groups, especially if they work to specialize in necessary capacities. To make matters worse, we are convinced that a number of rival mercenary groups have begun to cooperate with the smaller groups. We are forced to include Amalgam as one such group. That is a fearful possibility to contemplate.
One thing we need to find out is whether or not Mithril is doing the same thing, or is simply being used as a stepping stone for a number of the criminal entrepreneurs. If it is the former, we are faced with a nearly unsolvable problem. We would need to approach the financial sponsors, hoping they are not in cahoots with the big players. We might even be forced to go public, leading to the destruction of the organization and incorporation of our material and human resources into sovereign armies or small independent groups.
If, instead, we are dealing with a small number of evil men, the solutions would be simpler, but not necessarily easy. We are dealing with too much of an unknown. The threat of organized crime groups aquiring and trafficking in nuclear, biological, and chemical weapons becomes more real every day. There is no way to know whether such capabilities exist in the groups involved, and whether or not such weapons might be used against our forces in retribution. We cannot let fear of such reprisals cause us to stay our hand.
Additionally, we should also consider the possibility that we are not dealing with men with their own lust for power and money, but rather “criminal states” who have placed their men in positions of power for the purpose of advancing large scale agendas.
Gentlemen, we are hamstrung without in depth intelligence. By making any overt move, we may all become targets of vindictive men and their organizations. Covert actions would take longer, but would not guarantee success, and may make it simpler for our adversaries to circumvent our more effective resources.
I am willing to take part in any plan you may care to devise. If required, I will do my searching behind the scenes and under the radar. Alternatively, I will make above-the-board attempts through official channels if that is the chosen approach. Consider me entirely at your disposal.
Capt. Concepcion had given a general briefing on organized crime, and had touched upon the Russian Mafia and the more visible Chinese syndicates. Brief mention had been made about European cartels. After that, she had distributed folders of ultra-classified information regarding Vyacheslav Borodenko; Liang Yong; Vassil Tahirjunov; their closest cronies within and outside of Mithril; and their bodyguards.
Following the Intel officers briefing, Sousuke described everything that Captain Testarossa had said at the dinner. He had also gone on to talk with her privately, gathering more details. Kaname had not been entirely pleased. It wasn't jealousy. She was still fighting an irrational fear that he might disappear again any time he left her sight.
“There is certainly a lot for Lt. Cmdr. Ben-Eleiden and myself to digest. We will discuss matters amongst ourselves first, looking at the broader picture and deciding which other commanding officers within Mithril might be safely approached.” Cmdr. Horowitz stood up, stretching his back.
“In addition, to be honest, we need to search our own souls. Any action that takes place may well be looked upon as having been authorized or orchestrated by those of us in command. Even if we do not step off of this submarine, we will be putting our heads within the noose along with each and every one of you. We will each consider possible courses of action tonight. I ask that you all do the same. Miss Chidori should stay aboard, for her own safety, and as a means to maintain full secrecy. You are all dismissed.”
************************************************************
There should be more splendor around me. Concubines, the prettiest and most nubile available. Servants, their hands full of scrolls begging my official notice, trays of drink and great delicacies balanced on their perfumed heads. Guards, their armor polished and their scimitars gleaming in the firelight. Wealth, covering the palace walls, piled in great heaps upon the floor.
Liang Yong pondered his current status and the sweeping changes that would soon take place. Perhaps he was born into the wrong century, but he would have his wealth and power soon enough. Yes, it was the filthiest of possible alliances, but the time honored saying held true: Better to be at the right hand of the Devil than to be in his path.
There was a soft tapping at his door. “Most Honored Deputy. I humbly ask for entrance.” Shinto. His valet and personal secretary. It must be the expected visitors.
I wish I had an opium pipe. That, and a plate of peeled kumquats. A dancing girl on my lap and a sleeping snow leopard at my feet. “Granted, but not necessary if my guests are here. Please show them in.” He turned on a number of expensive table lamps and removed a box of fine cigars from his drawer. A crystal decanter filled with sherry and matching glasses took a place of significance next to bins of caviar and a tray of smoked salmon.
The door opened. Four middle-aged men in business suits, carrying briefcases and large sealed envelopes, walked into the room and took their seats. To the office staff and any security personnel watching, they were financial advisors and business managers linked to Mithril’s overseas investments and capital ventures. In reality, one was a high level Amalgam operative and the others were various syndicate officers with strong ties to the secret organization.
Pleasantries were exchanged. The men served themselves whatever food or drink caught their fancy. A full spectrum check on a desktop device failed to locate any active bugging devices. Briefcases were opened, envelopes unsealed, and papers passed about. From a large leather carrying bag, one man extracted a tripod and a folding digital screen. Another man quickly hooked up a lap top computer. They were fully prepared.
“Would you gentlemen mind if I began?” Liang Yong was nothing if not polite. All of the assembled guests nodded their heads, giving the Deputy Finance Minister of Mithril the floor and their undivided attention. “To start with, I must pass along a bit of unfortunate news. The Financial Coordinator, Mr. Tahirjanov, met with an untimely accident early this morning. By all accounts, the aircraft he was riding in flew too low during a heavy fog, crashing into a mountainside in the Andes.” He did not need to mention that control of the aircraft had been usurped by an agent on the ground. Amalgam had supplied the necessary blueprints, and one of the cartels had funded the project.
The assembled men raised their glasses high in mock reverence. One obstacle out of the way. This meeting was called to effect the removal of a much larger impediment, not to discuss the progress of European and Asian investments as the remainder of the Finance Division believed.
“The majority of the ground troops stationed on this island have been mobilized. Your assistance in starting fires around the world was most helpful. The firemen will not be getting in our hair. The hounds have been sent to rescue someone else’s chickens, leaving their own coop poorly protected. My contacts within the operations group assure me that all three of the Danaan class submarines will be out of range of the base at the appointed time. The only Mithril underwater detection grid has been taken down for scheduled maintenance. There should be very little resistance.” Liang Yong felt as if he were the master of Destiny, not its servant.
The visitors all wanted to see proof of the Deputy Minister’s claims. He gladly shared with them his personal logbook and tapes of secret conversations.
“Mr. Borodenko will be here on our day of opportunity. In the morning, he will be having a large celebration with members of his family and other international friends and relations. After the libations, he has a full docket, meeting with a number of foreign attaches and a United States senate committee member. None of those men are ours, so their loss will not be unfortunate in any manner. While I do hope that the senator from the hallowed state of New York is gone before the assault, I have no qualms about his death if the timing requires it. Mithril will fall deeper into turmoil---the remnants of the oraganization, and its supporters, will be suitably impressed when I manage to bring new life and strength to its broken body. Who knows, you might even be able to sit another sympathetic ear on Capitol Hill.”
The Amalgam operative wanted precise details on the bodyguards protecting the Finance Minister, having a responsibility to block off all possible avenues of escape. That was more crucial to his plans than the attacks on the other Divisions stationed on this island. The Military Command was situated elsewhere, much less vulnerable to military action.
“His four most trusted bodyguards are on my payroll. They all have family members in rather deadly or difficult situations, all by means of my efforts. Needless to say, his faith in them is unfounded. At the most opportune moment, they will assist Mr. Borodenko in his departure from this world, using weapons of the same caliber as those carried by our unsuspected invaders. My own escape will come by means of a miraculous act of Providence. Clairvoyance is a remarkable trait.”
The assembled group of conspirators talked late into the night, discussing the particulars of the upcoming operation and breaking down the plans they had in motion that would require the temporary inconvenience of Mithril. Liang Yong would ascend to a new level of power and wealth. The finances of Mithril---and all of the research and resupply activities that depended on it---would be in utter turmoil. Mr. Yong would be a friendly ear in an opposing organization---a puppet master serving their interests whenever possible---or so he was led to believe.
If circumstances proceeded favorably after that, Mithril’s armed forces would become increasingly vulnerable to a concerted and coordinated attack. That latter part was not discussed with the Deputy Minister, naturally. It was contrary to his own plans. His visitors were not concerned with that. There is sometimes honor among thieves. This was not one of those times.
“A toast, gentlemen. To our success.” That was something they could all agree on.
************************************************************
“Sousuke, you told me you had grown out of your recklessness over the past four years!” Kaname was standing over Sousuke, who had tumbled to the floor while avoiding a a backhand swipe of the halisen. “This plan is just too risky. I will NOT agree to it.” Kaname’s face was flushed with anger, but her eyes were filled with fear. Despite her big talk, she knew she had no cards to play. Even if she threatened to never see him again, she realized that he would continue down the same path, as long as he thought it was the right thing to do for her and everyone else.
“Kaname, we have been over this before. Your permission is irrelevant.” Sousuke stood up and placed one hand on the paper fan. “The only ones who need to agree with me are Cmdr. Horowitz and Lt. Cmdr. Ben-Eleiden. From you, I require nothing. Your understanding and support would be greatly valued, however.” He saw the momentary softening in Kaname’s eyes, before her fear and anger took control again.
“SOUSUKE!!!” Kaname pulled on the halisen, trying to wrench it from Sousuke’s grasp. Failing that, she kicked him hard in the shins.
“Heh heh heh. With all of your progress, Sousuke ole chum, you still have your moments of sheer boneheadedness. It’s definitely worth the price of admission.” Kurz tried to sneak a hand around Sousuke undetected, his target a chilled six pack of Oktoberfest ale Melissa had brought with her. “Kaname, dearest, do you consider irelevant and require nothing to be good pillow talk? That is, if you and Sousuke talk when you OOOFFF.”
“Kurz, you should know better by now yourself!!!” Melissa’s heal came down hard on Kurz’ hand, moments before her leg swung around in a tight arc, sending her squad mate sailing hard against a small end table. “Are the moaning heap over there and myself irrelevant too, Sousuke?” Melissa looked Sousuke straight in the eyes.
“It is a matter of degree, Melissa. I would greatly appreciate your insight and thoughts on tactical planning. Your assistance in some fashion would no doubt prove invaluable. The same goes for Kurz, and for you too Casimira.” Capt. Concepcion lounged on a small divan, safely out of the range of the continual physical shenanigans. “But, as I told Kaname, I have decided on my basic approach, and am now looking only to iron out the particulars.”
Kaname looked over at Capt. Concepcion. After getting to know her over the past couple of days, she began thinking of her as a friend. The beautiful woman's prior relationship with Sousuke still rankled her somewhat, but that was in the past. If Kaname kept a firm enough grasp on Sousuke’s heart, she need fear no one else’s efforts. “Mira, you said it could be suicidal to mess with the Russian mafia, right? Can’t you come up with some perspective that will get through the thick skull of this Mindless Military Machine?”
“The Russian mob is nothing to take lightly. In most accounts, it is the most powerful group of gangsters in the world. They own most of the banks in Russia, and have their tentacles firmly attached to banks in many other countries as well. Their foothold in the U.S., Europe, Asia, and the Middle East---particularly Israel---continues to expand.” She held out her hand and Melissa tossed her a bottle of brew. “They do business in all of the traditional vices and money making activities, but have established a huge weapons industry as well---not only do they market and distribute black market weaponry, they also have numerous production facilities. They finally succeeded in selling and delivering a nuclear submarine to Columbian drug lords, and are said to be willing to sell nuclear arms to those groups that possess goals and philosophies similar to their own.”
“Thank you. Sousuke, do you want to get on the hit list of something like that!” Kaname put her hands on her hips and dared Sousuke to answer ‘yes.’
“Kaname, we have no definite proof that Mr. Borodenko is---or ever was, for that matter---part of the Russian mafia. Even if he was, there is a high likelihood that he was unaware of the Deputy Minister’s actions. He may in fact be grateful for the information.” Sousuke spoke with great certainty, but there was a nagging kernel of doubt sitting heavy in his gut.
“Uh huh. Of course Sousuke, whether or not Borodenko was involved in the past unpleasantry, he might take great offense at your meddling in his business. Indeed, he might consider ignorance to be bliss. He could well go on to chastise his fellow Finance big wigs after he erases a certain Arm Slave pilot and halsien magnet.” Kurz’ look was uncharacteristically concerned.
”Not to mention the fact that our favorite f@cking weasel Yong is no one to be trifled with himself, if the rumors are true.” Melissa was extremely agitated, sucking down two beers without taking the time to savor the fine body or aftertaste. “Mira, just how rotten is that bastard whispered to be?”
Capt. Concepcion sat up and put her chin on her hands. “There are significant stories floating around Intel about the things he has done in his current name. However, the crux of the matter lies with one uncertainty. If he is indeed the man who had called himself Lai Dechuan, he could be considered one of the most ruthless and dangerous men on the planet.” Mira put down her beer bottle and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want to sound like I’m running a briefing here. Just how much do you want to know?”
“Please, Mira. Tell us all you can. No one has ever explained anything about that man to me.” Kaname didn’t verbalize her true wish. She wanted Casimira to say enough to change Sousuke’s mind. “I have no idea about what he did, or who he worked for.”
“Well, OK. First off, it’s probably more accurate to think about who worked for him, rather than the other way around.” Mira looked over at Sousuke, wondering if anything she said would make a difference one way or another. “The influx of illegal Chinese immigrants into the Russian Far East helped Chinese organized crime gangs to gain a lucrative new base of operations in a vast lawless territory. Lai Dechuan was a gangster boss with many nicknames, the most prevalent being “Eldest Brother.” He ran three gangs that smuggled anything and everything from fish to migrant workers. He invested in legitimate businesses, but placed greater emphasis on extorting protection money from other business men. People resisting him were prone to lose fingers, ears, noses…or their lives.”
“Why would a man like that leave such a profitable life, only to join Mithril as a high level financial officer?” Melissa looked puzzled. It was one of the key questions. "The folders you provided us with didn't touch on that."
“Lai Dechuan succeeded by keeping a low profile. He was well-connected with local administrators, police officials, and the like. Despite being Chinese, he turned himself into one of Russia’s crime lords in a relatively short period of time. That did not sit well with older traditional groups, particularly the Tajik, Kazakh, and Chechen who still had the greatest control over the drug trade. Furthermore, he was not unique. Chinese organized crime increased dramatically, and some of the new groups may have wanted to sit where he was seated.” Casimira stood and stretched, causing Kurz to hold his breath. He still envied Sousuke. “Whatever the reason, the law enforcement authorities went after him and his most powerful cronies. He was the only one to escape. While none of the others were ever brought to court, they all disappeared under suspicious circumstances.”
“Well, that’s not as bad as Borodenko, is it babe?” Kurz was smiling half-heartedly again. “That clown can’t have too much of an organization backing him up any more. He’s small potatoes compared to the Russian syndicates. Not only that, but OWWWW.” It was Kurz’ turn to be clueless. Kaname was NOT pleased with the direction the conversation was headed. Kurz bit his lip when he took an elbow to the head from the irate young lady.
Mira tried not to smile. Kurz deserved everything he got, and then some. She looked at Kaname when she spoke, not Kurz. “No doubt he managed to sneak a great deal of money out with him, not to mention the fact that he likely had a fair amount of wealth hidden away in Swiss accounts. Money can buy a lot of things, especially fin the hands of ruthless and bloodthirsty men. Furthermore, even though he was forced to run, his talents and accomplishments would give him great standing in criminal circles. No doubt he could find whatever contracts and vendettas he wanted if he was so motivated.” She nodded to Kaname.
Sousuke spoke very slowly and very sternly. “I thank you all for what you are trying to do. I fully understand the reasons behind it all. I am one of the most fortunate men alive. I have someone to love.” He looked at Kaname, seeing her eyes well up with tears. “I have friends who I care about, and who care greatly for me in return.” His eyes traveled slowly over each and every person in the room. “BUT, none of that changes the facts as they stand. Kaname was at tremendous risk in the past. If powerful men find that their prior plots were thwarted, their resentment and need to maintain face could prove fatal this time, even if the issue of Kaname and myself should be moot to them now."
Sousuke held up his hand when Kaname opened her mouth to speak. “I am not doing this out of anger or vengeance. You have made certain that I will not be making my decisions ill-informed. This is not a matter of pride or overprotectiveness. There is a spreading rot within Mithril that should not be left to fester any further than it has. There are principles that need to be acted on, if I am not to become a hypocrite. I believe my goal is right. The only thing that remains is matter of determining the best course of action. Anything I could do would carry with it enormous risks. This has the potential for the greatest gain, least exposure, and fewest risks.”
“SOUSUKE!” Kaname looked stricken. She knew there was no changing his mind.
“I ask that you all put your talents towards helping me optimize my plans, rather than trying to convince me to abandon my goal. I am going to keep my appointment with Mr. Borodenko no matter what you choose to do.”
Melissa, still Sousuke’s superior, took some exception at his approach. “You still need to receive Cmdr. Horowitz’ permission, Sousuke. Do not think that their consent is a given, especially if the group of us speak up against it!”
“Their understanding and support would be greatly appreciated. Otherwise, despite what you might think, their permission is irrelevant as well. I will be going in, regardless. If I have to swim into shore, so be it. If it costs me my career in Mithril, I will get by.”
************************************************************
CMDR. HOROWITZ TO THE BRIDGE. WE HAVE A SIGNIFICANT CONTACT. ACTION CODE ZEPHYR ONE NINER. REPEAT, ZEPHYR ONE NINER.
The Commander had been busy finishing a workout in the small gym. There was no time to shower or to change. Dripping with sweat, his shirt sticking to his body uncomfortably, he walked onto the bridge of the TDD-3. “Report, Ensign Gwadabe.”
Zephyr 19. The randomly assigned call word for the undersea detection network that Cmdr. Horowitz had commissioned and placed on site by his own volition, without knowledge of anyone outside of the TDD-3 or the American contractor he had approached: his youngest brother, a distinguished nautical engineer. He had hoped that there would never be a need for the system, but that was water under the bridge now.
“Sir, the network has picked up sonic and visual evidence of one Viperfish submersible and three Lamprey class submarines. Shortly after detection, more than a dozen smaller ill-defined images were detected as well. All bogies have been confirmed by the secondary and tertiary units..”
Commander Horowitz new all too well what the destination was: the Mithril base. There was no doubt who was involved: one of Amalgam’s splinter groups, or possibly the paraent organization itself. The craft were Black Technology bounty along the lines of the TDD series. Viperfish submersibles were all purpose attack submarines with A.S. capacity. Lampreys were troop and ordinance movers, mobile hangars for small infiltration submarines.
“Call Lt. Gustaf to the bridge on the double.” The Lt. Had assumed Capt. Concepcion’s post while she was busy with here covert evidence collecting mission. He had been the one who had brought vague warnings and tenuous signs to the Commander’s attention.
Poseidon’s balls!!! I truly hate it when the spooks and their conspiracy theories take center stage. Looks like the Amalgam family has it’s trouble with leaks now and then too. The portents had come not a moment too soon. It was only be sheer good fortune that the TDD-1 and TDD-2 had been within sailing distance of the island a few days ago, otherwise the TDD-3 would have to go this one alone. Cmdr. Tucker had been ecstatic. He had been itching for a shot at those bastards. Capt. Testarossa had been uneasy, understandably so. Her transfer to a shore side position was only weeks away. If the battle went poorly, there may be no research facilities to report to. Each had agreed to hang around the area, ignoring their current orders and broadcasting falsified reports. They would all have been up to their eyebrows in shit if the leads hadn’t panned out, but that was no longer a concern. Three subs ought to be more than enough. Somebody was in for a rude awakening.
“Ensign Kukrika, contact Cmdr. Tucker and Capt. Testarossa immediately. Inform them that the balloon has gone up. Have them set up a conference call with me as soon as they are able.” He punched a button on his command chair, accessing Lt. Cmdr. Ben-Eleiden’s pager. The code number he entered would instruct him to ready the air wing and the Special Responses Team. The TDD-3’s entire A.S. compliment consisted of improved Arbalests. Modified Apache helicopters would be packing missile-heavy loads. The F-35 VTOL fighters should assure air superiority and help make every inch of ground a dear commodity for the invaders. The TDD-2 had the experimental RPV attack fighters, the Chevrons, knicknamed the Bats Out Of Hell for their coloration and formidable speed. This would be their first actual combat.
One ARX-7 would be staying behind.
Sagara is on the ground now, meeting with Borodenko. It looks like things are far worse than we had originally surmised. Will this somehow work to our advantage, or will the enemy assault provide the perpetrators with the perfect cover to carry out prearranged plans? Wait, I’m getting too damn old. There’s a good chance that someone in Mithril is in cahoots with those black-hearted fiends headed towards shore. Sagara may be walking into the very heart of the maelstrom.
"Fire control officer, use the underwater detection systems signals to plot rough positions for our unannounced guests. Let's see if we can find the needle in the haystack. Launch all loaded anti-submarine rockets." The foe was stealthy, but they would be moving slowly, some of them well within the littoral zone. At the very least, it was time to make them sweat a little. Maybe they'll even decide to abort the mission. This will be something like a high stakes game of "Battleship.' I choose Z-19....
************************************************************
Vyacheslav Alexi Borodenko was a large stocky man with a wrestler’s physique gone to seed. To some, he was bigger than life. Infamous. Charming. Frightening. Disarming. To himself, he was no bigger than his heart. Money, power, respect---they all mattered, but not nearly as much as family.
Leaning back in his leather chair, he let his eyes wander, taking in the pictures of his wife and children on his desk, and the photographs of countless other relatives scattered amongst the works of the old masters hanging on the walls. Music stands were still in place, left behind by the chamber group hired to play works by Glinka, Arensky, and Shostakovich. The pianist had been superb. The polished Baby Grand was still sitting out of place, centered in his large ornately decorated office. Large tapers, with hardened rivulets of wax, stood in fancy wrought iron stands. Large crystal vases held magnificent flower arrangements, the scent of the blossoms contrasting with the lingering scent of ethnic cooking and fine cigars.
Empty bottles of sparking champagne were lined up along the walls like soldiers at attention. Small dishes and bowls of salted cabbage and Herring In A Sheepskin Coat were lost among the platters and plates of pelmeny, zharkoye, and shashlik. There had been many more honey pastries and bars of fruitcake than there were now---patty his belly with a satisfied sigh, he could well attest to that fact. The food had all been excellent. His nieces engagement celebration called for nothing less. The party had been put together as a way to offer his niece’s fiance into the family, a way to help him begin to feel at home. To his great relief, his niece had been overwhelmed. He could still feel the ghost of her kiss upon his whiskered cheek.
It had been difficult conducting business after that---he was a busy man, and there was always so much to get done. In stark contrast to his earlier days, Borodenko ran an honest trade at Mithril, attacking the job with just as much gusto and unrelenting expectation as he put towards everything else in his life. Certain ties remained, of course, but they rarely intruded on his comfortable and ordered world. It was nice to be owed favors. They were a valued resource. There were no favors he had outstanding, having spent a good part of his life serving men he been beholden to. The business men and foreign attaches he had met with today had come seeking favors. He had done his best to set up equitable trades.
Senator McSimmons had cancelled his visit. Borodenko was thankful. That man had an unreasonable view of his own importance. He was greatly mistaken in his views, believing he deserved special treatment and concessions. He had done nothing to earn respect or trust. He had shown no willingness to make sacrifices. Dealing with him would have rubbed some of the luster off of a splendid day.
There was only one scheduled appointment left for the day. Sousuke Sagara. Mithril soldier for all of his adult years. Assigned to the TDD-3, under the command of Cmdr. Horowitz and Lt. Cmdr. Ben-Eleiden, men with reputations quite different than that of the self-centered senator.
“What can he possibly want?” He was speaking to himself. “What is his business with the Minister of Finance?“ His four bodyguards new better than to answer, or to listen for that matter. Full plates in hand, three of them left to take up their positions at various points throughout the building. They would return when Mr. Sagara arrived. The fourth man pulled a chair just outside of the room.
Opening his desk drawer, he took comfort in the loaded pistols he kept there. Taking out the dossier on Sagara, he went over his notes on the young man’s accomplishments. Impressive. Consistent. Dedicated to protecting others. Good. Very good. The facts about his early life were troubling. An orphan at an early age, his parents killed by Russian soldiers in Afghanistan. Raided and trained by the mujahadeen, he had become weapon in their hands, a tool of vengeance and liberation. Could that have anything to do with this meeting? Doubtful. I never set foot in Afghanistan. My weapons deals with the Taliban had come after Sagara had joined Mithril. Still, I am Russian. I can NOT turn a blind eye to this.
Before closing the folder, he scanned the final section, the facts and inferences about his character weaknesses, points of leverage, potential vulnerabilities, and all accumulated ’dirt.’ He was far from being a Saint, but had shown a remarkable code of ethics and morality for a boy raised by wolves, so to speak. Not infrequently armed with tremendous destructive power, he had nevertheless outgrown his earlier tendency to be an angel of death. There were points of note, however. Reginald Smithers. There were questions regarding the death of that despicable parasite. Recorded episodes of disobedience ere more frequent and more severe than a sovereign army would have accepted. But, there was a common thread, a redeeming feature if you will. He may have grown up without the benefit of family, but he showed a remarkable loyalty to friends, fellow soldiers, and the people he was assigned to protect.
Borodenko absentmindedly spilled his glass of Medovuha as he came across the copious condensed notes from his department personnel. How could he have never heard of Sagara’s name before? Some of the bills had been astronomical---but, he admitted, many of the successes he had brought about were priceless. Ah. Liang Yong had been following his case. Of course, he would keep such information to himself rather than risk losing face. In any case, it seems that his headaches for the Finance Division had diminished significantly, not much more than four years ago. Thank God!!! I wonder if Lloyds of London would issue an insurance policy on a walking force of Nature?
The young soldier was remarkably short on vices. No drugs. Social drinking only. No gambling. By all accounts unconcerned with rank or advancement. No penchant for prostitutes or courtesans. His contact with women was meager for a man his age. No doubt a result of his childhood. Oh. And possibly as the result of the loss of his girlfriend. A terrible tragedy. The closest thing he had to family. Where have I heard the name Kaname Chidori before?
The Deputy of Finances sat stroking his well-manicured beard. It would be interesting to see just what the young man wanted. Was this for his own purpose, or was he being used as a messenger or scout for someone higher up the chain of command? The mystery appealed to him, so he granted an interview he normally would not have. Curiosity killed the cat. It was wise to be prepared. He picked up a sterling silver bell with a mahogany handle. He rang it three times in succession. Moments later, his lead bodyguard walked into the room and over to his desk.
“Minister?” Pavel Totahounov was a tall slender man, a whippet to his boss’ mastiff. His gaunt appearance was misleading. He was one of the most dangerous men that Borodenko had ever known. Like the other guards, he was ex-KGB, a man thrown away when the SVR had taken hold and modeled itself after its Western equivalents. He had given the man a job, a new life. He had treated him like family. His loyalty was never in doubt.
“Sousuke Sagara, my next visitor, is an exceedingly capable young man.” The bodyguard understood his superior’s use of that word. “I will not insult you by telling you to be careful---there is never a time when you are not. I will say that this individual requires special attention. The usual search procedures may not be adequate in themselves. There will be no room for errors. I would ask that you pass along similar words to Mr. Solonik, Mr. Mogelivich, and Mr. Ivankov.” As the man turned to walk away, Borodenko added. “Ah! And Pavel, please take some Cuban cigars for yourself and the others. This is a rather special day.” He did not see the fleeting look of sadness in his bodyguard’s eyes.
************************************************************
Sagara. Sousuke Sagara. Yes, that name was certainly familiar. How could anyone forget him?
“Sagara, why here? Why now?” Liang Yong thought back to the quandry the young man had once presented him with. It had indeed been worth keeping the young Arm Slave pilot alive, healthy, and at the forefront of Mithril’s effective rapid response teams. It had been rather delicious pulling the strings on that young submarine captain. He gave no thought whatsoever to the blue-haired girl who was once the necessary focal point of his wrath. “Why Borodenko.” Was it all coincedence?
He toyed with an ornamental dagger, a museum replica or one reputed to have been used by Ghengis Khan. Irritated, he threw the knife, chipping a rather expensive dynastic urn. Is there a danger here? A serious threat? Who’s hand has set this in motion. To what end??????
His favorite pewter goblet was the next object to feel his wrath. He was already riding a a rushing wave of adrenalin. Today was the day. Despite all of the careful planning, he could still be at some degree of risk from the invading troops---there was never a sure way to predict what might happen during the fog of battle. His complete safety was not an option, as he could not risk being off the island when the strike occurred. There would be some conspiracy freaks in Intel who would put together an altogether too plausible scenario fingering him if he was conveniently absent. If they dug deep enough, who knows what they might find? No, he had to face his risk. Once on a tiger’s back, it is harder to alight.
“Could someone know the plan….” His heart skipped a beat. Why would he show up in person, alone, if someone had an inkling of the impending assault? A phone call from a commanding officer would carry much more weight, and would have the benefit of speed. If he were here in an Arm Slave, I would have reason to sweat. Breath deep. Seek the center. Be at peace.
Liang Yong walked over to a small ornate bar and poured himself a shot of peach brandy. Bringing the small glass to his mouth, he stopped. His mind had wings, darting from thought to thought like a busy insect. Could he have found HER. If he realized they had been duped, would he follow the trail? Wouldn’t he realize that the risks far outweighed any possible benefit? What might Borodenko do…
Suddenly, he threw back his head and laughed. “What might Borodenko do IF he was to live a day longer?” Yes, it was foolish to worry about each and every possible risk. Instead, why not give thought to possible benefits.
Yes. So very sweet. Fortune favors the worthy. The enemy soldiers would not kill the Minister of Finance. An unbalanced young soldier would. A young maniac warped by a life as a violent and underappreciated pawn. A young traitor helping to coordinate the dastardly sneak attack on the island. Sousuke Sagara. Those who spoke out in his posthumous defense would see the glaring light of suspicion shining on them. Such a terrible tragedy. But, while the flames of confusion and uncertainty swirled around the survivors, Liang Yong would be a guide, the man to lead Mithril through the chaos.
************************************************************
End of part 1
Large criminal syndicates---Russian organized crime groups…the Sicilian mafia…ethnic Chinese groups like the triads---will remain powerful players. But, with every passing day, more and more highly skilled criminal entrepreneurs spring up like mushrooms, their actions often having significant and far reaching effects.
Individuals or small criminal groups with high-tech computer skills and telecommunication capabilities are becoming thorns in the sides of law enforcement agencies and national governments. They can turn huge profits without establishing the massive infrastructure of the large syndicates. The large groups are not growing stagnant. While there is a significant amount of cooperation amongst those groups now, it will likely decrease as each syndicate becomes better equipped to produce, market, and distribute illegal drugs and other contraband. Conversely, there may be more and more cooperation amongst the smaller groups, especially if they work to specialize in necessary capacities. To make matters worse, we are convinced that a number of rival mercenary groups have begun to cooperate with the smaller groups. We are forced to include Amalgam as one such group. That is a fearful possibility to contemplate.
One thing we need to find out is whether or not Mithril is doing the same thing, or is simply being used as a stepping stone for a number of the criminal entrepreneurs. If it is the former, we are faced with a nearly unsolvable problem. We would need to approach the financial sponsors, hoping they are not in cahoots with the big players. We might even be forced to go public, leading to the destruction of the organization and incorporation of our material and human resources into sovereign armies or small independent groups.
If, instead, we are dealing with a small number of evil men, the solutions would be simpler, but not necessarily easy. We are dealing with too much of an unknown. The threat of organized crime groups aquiring and trafficking in nuclear, biological, and chemical weapons becomes more real every day. There is no way to know whether such capabilities exist in the groups involved, and whether or not such weapons might be used against our forces in retribution. We cannot let fear of such reprisals cause us to stay our hand.
Additionally, we should also consider the possibility that we are not dealing with men with their own lust for power and money, but rather “criminal states” who have placed their men in positions of power for the purpose of advancing large scale agendas.
Gentlemen, we are hamstrung without in depth intelligence. By making any overt move, we may all become targets of vindictive men and their organizations. Covert actions would take longer, but would not guarantee success, and may make it simpler for our adversaries to circumvent our more effective resources.
I am willing to take part in any plan you may care to devise. If required, I will do my searching behind the scenes and under the radar. Alternatively, I will make above-the-board attempts through official channels if that is the chosen approach. Consider me entirely at your disposal.
Capt. Concepcion had given a general briefing on organized crime, and had touched upon the Russian Mafia and the more visible Chinese syndicates. Brief mention had been made about European cartels. After that, she had distributed folders of ultra-classified information regarding Vyacheslav Borodenko; Liang Yong; Vassil Tahirjunov; their closest cronies within and outside of Mithril; and their bodyguards.
Following the Intel officers briefing, Sousuke described everything that Captain Testarossa had said at the dinner. He had also gone on to talk with her privately, gathering more details. Kaname had not been entirely pleased. It wasn't jealousy. She was still fighting an irrational fear that he might disappear again any time he left her sight.
“There is certainly a lot for Lt. Cmdr. Ben-Eleiden and myself to digest. We will discuss matters amongst ourselves first, looking at the broader picture and deciding which other commanding officers within Mithril might be safely approached.” Cmdr. Horowitz stood up, stretching his back.
“In addition, to be honest, we need to search our own souls. Any action that takes place may well be looked upon as having been authorized or orchestrated by those of us in command. Even if we do not step off of this submarine, we will be putting our heads within the noose along with each and every one of you. We will each consider possible courses of action tonight. I ask that you all do the same. Miss Chidori should stay aboard, for her own safety, and as a means to maintain full secrecy. You are all dismissed.”
************************************************************
There should be more splendor around me. Concubines, the prettiest and most nubile available. Servants, their hands full of scrolls begging my official notice, trays of drink and great delicacies balanced on their perfumed heads. Guards, their armor polished and their scimitars gleaming in the firelight. Wealth, covering the palace walls, piled in great heaps upon the floor.
Liang Yong pondered his current status and the sweeping changes that would soon take place. Perhaps he was born into the wrong century, but he would have his wealth and power soon enough. Yes, it was the filthiest of possible alliances, but the time honored saying held true: Better to be at the right hand of the Devil than to be in his path.
There was a soft tapping at his door. “Most Honored Deputy. I humbly ask for entrance.” Shinto. His valet and personal secretary. It must be the expected visitors.
I wish I had an opium pipe. That, and a plate of peeled kumquats. A dancing girl on my lap and a sleeping snow leopard at my feet. “Granted, but not necessary if my guests are here. Please show them in.” He turned on a number of expensive table lamps and removed a box of fine cigars from his drawer. A crystal decanter filled with sherry and matching glasses took a place of significance next to bins of caviar and a tray of smoked salmon.
The door opened. Four middle-aged men in business suits, carrying briefcases and large sealed envelopes, walked into the room and took their seats. To the office staff and any security personnel watching, they were financial advisors and business managers linked to Mithril’s overseas investments and capital ventures. In reality, one was a high level Amalgam operative and the others were various syndicate officers with strong ties to the secret organization.
Pleasantries were exchanged. The men served themselves whatever food or drink caught their fancy. A full spectrum check on a desktop device failed to locate any active bugging devices. Briefcases were opened, envelopes unsealed, and papers passed about. From a large leather carrying bag, one man extracted a tripod and a folding digital screen. Another man quickly hooked up a lap top computer. They were fully prepared.
“Would you gentlemen mind if I began?” Liang Yong was nothing if not polite. All of the assembled guests nodded their heads, giving the Deputy Finance Minister of Mithril the floor and their undivided attention. “To start with, I must pass along a bit of unfortunate news. The Financial Coordinator, Mr. Tahirjanov, met with an untimely accident early this morning. By all accounts, the aircraft he was riding in flew too low during a heavy fog, crashing into a mountainside in the Andes.” He did not need to mention that control of the aircraft had been usurped by an agent on the ground. Amalgam had supplied the necessary blueprints, and one of the cartels had funded the project.
The assembled men raised their glasses high in mock reverence. One obstacle out of the way. This meeting was called to effect the removal of a much larger impediment, not to discuss the progress of European and Asian investments as the remainder of the Finance Division believed.
“The majority of the ground troops stationed on this island have been mobilized. Your assistance in starting fires around the world was most helpful. The firemen will not be getting in our hair. The hounds have been sent to rescue someone else’s chickens, leaving their own coop poorly protected. My contacts within the operations group assure me that all three of the Danaan class submarines will be out of range of the base at the appointed time. The only Mithril underwater detection grid has been taken down for scheduled maintenance. There should be very little resistance.” Liang Yong felt as if he were the master of Destiny, not its servant.
The visitors all wanted to see proof of the Deputy Minister’s claims. He gladly shared with them his personal logbook and tapes of secret conversations.
“Mr. Borodenko will be here on our day of opportunity. In the morning, he will be having a large celebration with members of his family and other international friends and relations. After the libations, he has a full docket, meeting with a number of foreign attaches and a United States senate committee member. None of those men are ours, so their loss will not be unfortunate in any manner. While I do hope that the senator from the hallowed state of New York is gone before the assault, I have no qualms about his death if the timing requires it. Mithril will fall deeper into turmoil---the remnants of the oraganization, and its supporters, will be suitably impressed when I manage to bring new life and strength to its broken body. Who knows, you might even be able to sit another sympathetic ear on Capitol Hill.”
The Amalgam operative wanted precise details on the bodyguards protecting the Finance Minister, having a responsibility to block off all possible avenues of escape. That was more crucial to his plans than the attacks on the other Divisions stationed on this island. The Military Command was situated elsewhere, much less vulnerable to military action.
“His four most trusted bodyguards are on my payroll. They all have family members in rather deadly or difficult situations, all by means of my efforts. Needless to say, his faith in them is unfounded. At the most opportune moment, they will assist Mr. Borodenko in his departure from this world, using weapons of the same caliber as those carried by our unsuspected invaders. My own escape will come by means of a miraculous act of Providence. Clairvoyance is a remarkable trait.”
The assembled group of conspirators talked late into the night, discussing the particulars of the upcoming operation and breaking down the plans they had in motion that would require the temporary inconvenience of Mithril. Liang Yong would ascend to a new level of power and wealth. The finances of Mithril---and all of the research and resupply activities that depended on it---would be in utter turmoil. Mr. Yong would be a friendly ear in an opposing organization---a puppet master serving their interests whenever possible---or so he was led to believe.
If circumstances proceeded favorably after that, Mithril’s armed forces would become increasingly vulnerable to a concerted and coordinated attack. That latter part was not discussed with the Deputy Minister, naturally. It was contrary to his own plans. His visitors were not concerned with that. There is sometimes honor among thieves. This was not one of those times.
“A toast, gentlemen. To our success.” That was something they could all agree on.
************************************************************
“Sousuke, you told me you had grown out of your recklessness over the past four years!” Kaname was standing over Sousuke, who had tumbled to the floor while avoiding a a backhand swipe of the halisen. “This plan is just too risky. I will NOT agree to it.” Kaname’s face was flushed with anger, but her eyes were filled with fear. Despite her big talk, she knew she had no cards to play. Even if she threatened to never see him again, she realized that he would continue down the same path, as long as he thought it was the right thing to do for her and everyone else.
“Kaname, we have been over this before. Your permission is irrelevant.” Sousuke stood up and placed one hand on the paper fan. “The only ones who need to agree with me are Cmdr. Horowitz and Lt. Cmdr. Ben-Eleiden. From you, I require nothing. Your understanding and support would be greatly valued, however.” He saw the momentary softening in Kaname’s eyes, before her fear and anger took control again.
“SOUSUKE!!!” Kaname pulled on the halisen, trying to wrench it from Sousuke’s grasp. Failing that, she kicked him hard in the shins.
“Heh heh heh. With all of your progress, Sousuke ole chum, you still have your moments of sheer boneheadedness. It’s definitely worth the price of admission.” Kurz tried to sneak a hand around Sousuke undetected, his target a chilled six pack of Oktoberfest ale Melissa had brought with her. “Kaname, dearest, do you consider irelevant and require nothing to be good pillow talk? That is, if you and Sousuke talk when you OOOFFF.”
“Kurz, you should know better by now yourself!!!” Melissa’s heal came down hard on Kurz’ hand, moments before her leg swung around in a tight arc, sending her squad mate sailing hard against a small end table. “Are the moaning heap over there and myself irrelevant too, Sousuke?” Melissa looked Sousuke straight in the eyes.
“It is a matter of degree, Melissa. I would greatly appreciate your insight and thoughts on tactical planning. Your assistance in some fashion would no doubt prove invaluable. The same goes for Kurz, and for you too Casimira.” Capt. Concepcion lounged on a small divan, safely out of the range of the continual physical shenanigans. “But, as I told Kaname, I have decided on my basic approach, and am now looking only to iron out the particulars.”
Kaname looked over at Capt. Concepcion. After getting to know her over the past couple of days, she began thinking of her as a friend. The beautiful woman's prior relationship with Sousuke still rankled her somewhat, but that was in the past. If Kaname kept a firm enough grasp on Sousuke’s heart, she need fear no one else’s efforts. “Mira, you said it could be suicidal to mess with the Russian mafia, right? Can’t you come up with some perspective that will get through the thick skull of this Mindless Military Machine?”
“The Russian mob is nothing to take lightly. In most accounts, it is the most powerful group of gangsters in the world. They own most of the banks in Russia, and have their tentacles firmly attached to banks in many other countries as well. Their foothold in the U.S., Europe, Asia, and the Middle East---particularly Israel---continues to expand.” She held out her hand and Melissa tossed her a bottle of brew. “They do business in all of the traditional vices and money making activities, but have established a huge weapons industry as well---not only do they market and distribute black market weaponry, they also have numerous production facilities. They finally succeeded in selling and delivering a nuclear submarine to Columbian drug lords, and are said to be willing to sell nuclear arms to those groups that possess goals and philosophies similar to their own.”
“Thank you. Sousuke, do you want to get on the hit list of something like that!” Kaname put her hands on her hips and dared Sousuke to answer ‘yes.’
“Kaname, we have no definite proof that Mr. Borodenko is---or ever was, for that matter---part of the Russian mafia. Even if he was, there is a high likelihood that he was unaware of the Deputy Minister’s actions. He may in fact be grateful for the information.” Sousuke spoke with great certainty, but there was a nagging kernel of doubt sitting heavy in his gut.
“Uh huh. Of course Sousuke, whether or not Borodenko was involved in the past unpleasantry, he might take great offense at your meddling in his business. Indeed, he might consider ignorance to be bliss. He could well go on to chastise his fellow Finance big wigs after he erases a certain Arm Slave pilot and halsien magnet.” Kurz’ look was uncharacteristically concerned.
”Not to mention the fact that our favorite f@cking weasel Yong is no one to be trifled with himself, if the rumors are true.” Melissa was extremely agitated, sucking down two beers without taking the time to savor the fine body or aftertaste. “Mira, just how rotten is that bastard whispered to be?”
Capt. Concepcion sat up and put her chin on her hands. “There are significant stories floating around Intel about the things he has done in his current name. However, the crux of the matter lies with one uncertainty. If he is indeed the man who had called himself Lai Dechuan, he could be considered one of the most ruthless and dangerous men on the planet.” Mira put down her beer bottle and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want to sound like I’m running a briefing here. Just how much do you want to know?”
“Please, Mira. Tell us all you can. No one has ever explained anything about that man to me.” Kaname didn’t verbalize her true wish. She wanted Casimira to say enough to change Sousuke’s mind. “I have no idea about what he did, or who he worked for.”
“Well, OK. First off, it’s probably more accurate to think about who worked for him, rather than the other way around.” Mira looked over at Sousuke, wondering if anything she said would make a difference one way or another. “The influx of illegal Chinese immigrants into the Russian Far East helped Chinese organized crime gangs to gain a lucrative new base of operations in a vast lawless territory. Lai Dechuan was a gangster boss with many nicknames, the most prevalent being “Eldest Brother.” He ran three gangs that smuggled anything and everything from fish to migrant workers. He invested in legitimate businesses, but placed greater emphasis on extorting protection money from other business men. People resisting him were prone to lose fingers, ears, noses…or their lives.”
“Why would a man like that leave such a profitable life, only to join Mithril as a high level financial officer?” Melissa looked puzzled. It was one of the key questions. "The folders you provided us with didn't touch on that."
“Lai Dechuan succeeded by keeping a low profile. He was well-connected with local administrators, police officials, and the like. Despite being Chinese, he turned himself into one of Russia’s crime lords in a relatively short period of time. That did not sit well with older traditional groups, particularly the Tajik, Kazakh, and Chechen who still had the greatest control over the drug trade. Furthermore, he was not unique. Chinese organized crime increased dramatically, and some of the new groups may have wanted to sit where he was seated.” Casimira stood and stretched, causing Kurz to hold his breath. He still envied Sousuke. “Whatever the reason, the law enforcement authorities went after him and his most powerful cronies. He was the only one to escape. While none of the others were ever brought to court, they all disappeared under suspicious circumstances.”
“Well, that’s not as bad as Borodenko, is it babe?” Kurz was smiling half-heartedly again. “That clown can’t have too much of an organization backing him up any more. He’s small potatoes compared to the Russian syndicates. Not only that, but OWWWW.” It was Kurz’ turn to be clueless. Kaname was NOT pleased with the direction the conversation was headed. Kurz bit his lip when he took an elbow to the head from the irate young lady.
Mira tried not to smile. Kurz deserved everything he got, and then some. She looked at Kaname when she spoke, not Kurz. “No doubt he managed to sneak a great deal of money out with him, not to mention the fact that he likely had a fair amount of wealth hidden away in Swiss accounts. Money can buy a lot of things, especially fin the hands of ruthless and bloodthirsty men. Furthermore, even though he was forced to run, his talents and accomplishments would give him great standing in criminal circles. No doubt he could find whatever contracts and vendettas he wanted if he was so motivated.” She nodded to Kaname.
Sousuke spoke very slowly and very sternly. “I thank you all for what you are trying to do. I fully understand the reasons behind it all. I am one of the most fortunate men alive. I have someone to love.” He looked at Kaname, seeing her eyes well up with tears. “I have friends who I care about, and who care greatly for me in return.” His eyes traveled slowly over each and every person in the room. “BUT, none of that changes the facts as they stand. Kaname was at tremendous risk in the past. If powerful men find that their prior plots were thwarted, their resentment and need to maintain face could prove fatal this time, even if the issue of Kaname and myself should be moot to them now."
Sousuke held up his hand when Kaname opened her mouth to speak. “I am not doing this out of anger or vengeance. You have made certain that I will not be making my decisions ill-informed. This is not a matter of pride or overprotectiveness. There is a spreading rot within Mithril that should not be left to fester any further than it has. There are principles that need to be acted on, if I am not to become a hypocrite. I believe my goal is right. The only thing that remains is matter of determining the best course of action. Anything I could do would carry with it enormous risks. This has the potential for the greatest gain, least exposure, and fewest risks.”
“SOUSUKE!” Kaname looked stricken. She knew there was no changing his mind.
“I ask that you all put your talents towards helping me optimize my plans, rather than trying to convince me to abandon my goal. I am going to keep my appointment with Mr. Borodenko no matter what you choose to do.”
Melissa, still Sousuke’s superior, took some exception at his approach. “You still need to receive Cmdr. Horowitz’ permission, Sousuke. Do not think that their consent is a given, especially if the group of us speak up against it!”
“Their understanding and support would be greatly appreciated. Otherwise, despite what you might think, their permission is irrelevant as well. I will be going in, regardless. If I have to swim into shore, so be it. If it costs me my career in Mithril, I will get by.”
************************************************************
CMDR. HOROWITZ TO THE BRIDGE. WE HAVE A SIGNIFICANT CONTACT. ACTION CODE ZEPHYR ONE NINER. REPEAT, ZEPHYR ONE NINER.
The Commander had been busy finishing a workout in the small gym. There was no time to shower or to change. Dripping with sweat, his shirt sticking to his body uncomfortably, he walked onto the bridge of the TDD-3. “Report, Ensign Gwadabe.”
Zephyr 19. The randomly assigned call word for the undersea detection network that Cmdr. Horowitz had commissioned and placed on site by his own volition, without knowledge of anyone outside of the TDD-3 or the American contractor he had approached: his youngest brother, a distinguished nautical engineer. He had hoped that there would never be a need for the system, but that was water under the bridge now.
“Sir, the network has picked up sonic and visual evidence of one Viperfish submersible and three Lamprey class submarines. Shortly after detection, more than a dozen smaller ill-defined images were detected as well. All bogies have been confirmed by the secondary and tertiary units..”
Commander Horowitz new all too well what the destination was: the Mithril base. There was no doubt who was involved: one of Amalgam’s splinter groups, or possibly the paraent organization itself. The craft were Black Technology bounty along the lines of the TDD series. Viperfish submersibles were all purpose attack submarines with A.S. capacity. Lampreys were troop and ordinance movers, mobile hangars for small infiltration submarines.
“Call Lt. Gustaf to the bridge on the double.” The Lt. Had assumed Capt. Concepcion’s post while she was busy with here covert evidence collecting mission. He had been the one who had brought vague warnings and tenuous signs to the Commander’s attention.
Poseidon’s balls!!! I truly hate it when the spooks and their conspiracy theories take center stage. Looks like the Amalgam family has it’s trouble with leaks now and then too. The portents had come not a moment too soon. It was only be sheer good fortune that the TDD-1 and TDD-2 had been within sailing distance of the island a few days ago, otherwise the TDD-3 would have to go this one alone. Cmdr. Tucker had been ecstatic. He had been itching for a shot at those bastards. Capt. Testarossa had been uneasy, understandably so. Her transfer to a shore side position was only weeks away. If the battle went poorly, there may be no research facilities to report to. Each had agreed to hang around the area, ignoring their current orders and broadcasting falsified reports. They would all have been up to their eyebrows in shit if the leads hadn’t panned out, but that was no longer a concern. Three subs ought to be more than enough. Somebody was in for a rude awakening.
“Ensign Kukrika, contact Cmdr. Tucker and Capt. Testarossa immediately. Inform them that the balloon has gone up. Have them set up a conference call with me as soon as they are able.” He punched a button on his command chair, accessing Lt. Cmdr. Ben-Eleiden’s pager. The code number he entered would instruct him to ready the air wing and the Special Responses Team. The TDD-3’s entire A.S. compliment consisted of improved Arbalests. Modified Apache helicopters would be packing missile-heavy loads. The F-35 VTOL fighters should assure air superiority and help make every inch of ground a dear commodity for the invaders. The TDD-2 had the experimental RPV attack fighters, the Chevrons, knicknamed the Bats Out Of Hell for their coloration and formidable speed. This would be their first actual combat.
One ARX-7 would be staying behind.
Sagara is on the ground now, meeting with Borodenko. It looks like things are far worse than we had originally surmised. Will this somehow work to our advantage, or will the enemy assault provide the perpetrators with the perfect cover to carry out prearranged plans? Wait, I’m getting too damn old. There’s a good chance that someone in Mithril is in cahoots with those black-hearted fiends headed towards shore. Sagara may be walking into the very heart of the maelstrom.
"Fire control officer, use the underwater detection systems signals to plot rough positions for our unannounced guests. Let's see if we can find the needle in the haystack. Launch all loaded anti-submarine rockets." The foe was stealthy, but they would be moving slowly, some of them well within the littoral zone. At the very least, it was time to make them sweat a little. Maybe they'll even decide to abort the mission. This will be something like a high stakes game of "Battleship.' I choose Z-19....
************************************************************
Vyacheslav Alexi Borodenko was a large stocky man with a wrestler’s physique gone to seed. To some, he was bigger than life. Infamous. Charming. Frightening. Disarming. To himself, he was no bigger than his heart. Money, power, respect---they all mattered, but not nearly as much as family.
Leaning back in his leather chair, he let his eyes wander, taking in the pictures of his wife and children on his desk, and the photographs of countless other relatives scattered amongst the works of the old masters hanging on the walls. Music stands were still in place, left behind by the chamber group hired to play works by Glinka, Arensky, and Shostakovich. The pianist had been superb. The polished Baby Grand was still sitting out of place, centered in his large ornately decorated office. Large tapers, with hardened rivulets of wax, stood in fancy wrought iron stands. Large crystal vases held magnificent flower arrangements, the scent of the blossoms contrasting with the lingering scent of ethnic cooking and fine cigars.
Empty bottles of sparking champagne were lined up along the walls like soldiers at attention. Small dishes and bowls of salted cabbage and Herring In A Sheepskin Coat were lost among the platters and plates of pelmeny, zharkoye, and shashlik. There had been many more honey pastries and bars of fruitcake than there were now---patty his belly with a satisfied sigh, he could well attest to that fact. The food had all been excellent. His nieces engagement celebration called for nothing less. The party had been put together as a way to offer his niece’s fiance into the family, a way to help him begin to feel at home. To his great relief, his niece had been overwhelmed. He could still feel the ghost of her kiss upon his whiskered cheek.
It had been difficult conducting business after that---he was a busy man, and there was always so much to get done. In stark contrast to his earlier days, Borodenko ran an honest trade at Mithril, attacking the job with just as much gusto and unrelenting expectation as he put towards everything else in his life. Certain ties remained, of course, but they rarely intruded on his comfortable and ordered world. It was nice to be owed favors. They were a valued resource. There were no favors he had outstanding, having spent a good part of his life serving men he been beholden to. The business men and foreign attaches he had met with today had come seeking favors. He had done his best to set up equitable trades.
Senator McSimmons had cancelled his visit. Borodenko was thankful. That man had an unreasonable view of his own importance. He was greatly mistaken in his views, believing he deserved special treatment and concessions. He had done nothing to earn respect or trust. He had shown no willingness to make sacrifices. Dealing with him would have rubbed some of the luster off of a splendid day.
There was only one scheduled appointment left for the day. Sousuke Sagara. Mithril soldier for all of his adult years. Assigned to the TDD-3, under the command of Cmdr. Horowitz and Lt. Cmdr. Ben-Eleiden, men with reputations quite different than that of the self-centered senator.
“What can he possibly want?” He was speaking to himself. “What is his business with the Minister of Finance?“ His four bodyguards new better than to answer, or to listen for that matter. Full plates in hand, three of them left to take up their positions at various points throughout the building. They would return when Mr. Sagara arrived. The fourth man pulled a chair just outside of the room.
Opening his desk drawer, he took comfort in the loaded pistols he kept there. Taking out the dossier on Sagara, he went over his notes on the young man’s accomplishments. Impressive. Consistent. Dedicated to protecting others. Good. Very good. The facts about his early life were troubling. An orphan at an early age, his parents killed by Russian soldiers in Afghanistan. Raided and trained by the mujahadeen, he had become weapon in their hands, a tool of vengeance and liberation. Could that have anything to do with this meeting? Doubtful. I never set foot in Afghanistan. My weapons deals with the Taliban had come after Sagara had joined Mithril. Still, I am Russian. I can NOT turn a blind eye to this.
Before closing the folder, he scanned the final section, the facts and inferences about his character weaknesses, points of leverage, potential vulnerabilities, and all accumulated ’dirt.’ He was far from being a Saint, but had shown a remarkable code of ethics and morality for a boy raised by wolves, so to speak. Not infrequently armed with tremendous destructive power, he had nevertheless outgrown his earlier tendency to be an angel of death. There were points of note, however. Reginald Smithers. There were questions regarding the death of that despicable parasite. Recorded episodes of disobedience ere more frequent and more severe than a sovereign army would have accepted. But, there was a common thread, a redeeming feature if you will. He may have grown up without the benefit of family, but he showed a remarkable loyalty to friends, fellow soldiers, and the people he was assigned to protect.
Borodenko absentmindedly spilled his glass of Medovuha as he came across the copious condensed notes from his department personnel. How could he have never heard of Sagara’s name before? Some of the bills had been astronomical---but, he admitted, many of the successes he had brought about were priceless. Ah. Liang Yong had been following his case. Of course, he would keep such information to himself rather than risk losing face. In any case, it seems that his headaches for the Finance Division had diminished significantly, not much more than four years ago. Thank God!!! I wonder if Lloyds of London would issue an insurance policy on a walking force of Nature?
The young soldier was remarkably short on vices. No drugs. Social drinking only. No gambling. By all accounts unconcerned with rank or advancement. No penchant for prostitutes or courtesans. His contact with women was meager for a man his age. No doubt a result of his childhood. Oh. And possibly as the result of the loss of his girlfriend. A terrible tragedy. The closest thing he had to family. Where have I heard the name Kaname Chidori before?
The Deputy of Finances sat stroking his well-manicured beard. It would be interesting to see just what the young man wanted. Was this for his own purpose, or was he being used as a messenger or scout for someone higher up the chain of command? The mystery appealed to him, so he granted an interview he normally would not have. Curiosity killed the cat. It was wise to be prepared. He picked up a sterling silver bell with a mahogany handle. He rang it three times in succession. Moments later, his lead bodyguard walked into the room and over to his desk.
“Minister?” Pavel Totahounov was a tall slender man, a whippet to his boss’ mastiff. His gaunt appearance was misleading. He was one of the most dangerous men that Borodenko had ever known. Like the other guards, he was ex-KGB, a man thrown away when the SVR had taken hold and modeled itself after its Western equivalents. He had given the man a job, a new life. He had treated him like family. His loyalty was never in doubt.
“Sousuke Sagara, my next visitor, is an exceedingly capable young man.” The bodyguard understood his superior’s use of that word. “I will not insult you by telling you to be careful---there is never a time when you are not. I will say that this individual requires special attention. The usual search procedures may not be adequate in themselves. There will be no room for errors. I would ask that you pass along similar words to Mr. Solonik, Mr. Mogelivich, and Mr. Ivankov.” As the man turned to walk away, Borodenko added. “Ah! And Pavel, please take some Cuban cigars for yourself and the others. This is a rather special day.” He did not see the fleeting look of sadness in his bodyguard’s eyes.
************************************************************
Sagara. Sousuke Sagara. Yes, that name was certainly familiar. How could anyone forget him?
“Sagara, why here? Why now?” Liang Yong thought back to the quandry the young man had once presented him with. It had indeed been worth keeping the young Arm Slave pilot alive, healthy, and at the forefront of Mithril’s effective rapid response teams. It had been rather delicious pulling the strings on that young submarine captain. He gave no thought whatsoever to the blue-haired girl who was once the necessary focal point of his wrath. “Why Borodenko.” Was it all coincedence?
He toyed with an ornamental dagger, a museum replica or one reputed to have been used by Ghengis Khan. Irritated, he threw the knife, chipping a rather expensive dynastic urn. Is there a danger here? A serious threat? Who’s hand has set this in motion. To what end??????
His favorite pewter goblet was the next object to feel his wrath. He was already riding a a rushing wave of adrenalin. Today was the day. Despite all of the careful planning, he could still be at some degree of risk from the invading troops---there was never a sure way to predict what might happen during the fog of battle. His complete safety was not an option, as he could not risk being off the island when the strike occurred. There would be some conspiracy freaks in Intel who would put together an altogether too plausible scenario fingering him if he was conveniently absent. If they dug deep enough, who knows what they might find? No, he had to face his risk. Once on a tiger’s back, it is harder to alight.
“Could someone know the plan….” His heart skipped a beat. Why would he show up in person, alone, if someone had an inkling of the impending assault? A phone call from a commanding officer would carry much more weight, and would have the benefit of speed. If he were here in an Arm Slave, I would have reason to sweat. Breath deep. Seek the center. Be at peace.
Liang Yong walked over to a small ornate bar and poured himself a shot of peach brandy. Bringing the small glass to his mouth, he stopped. His mind had wings, darting from thought to thought like a busy insect. Could he have found HER. If he realized they had been duped, would he follow the trail? Wouldn’t he realize that the risks far outweighed any possible benefit? What might Borodenko do…
Suddenly, he threw back his head and laughed. “What might Borodenko do IF he was to live a day longer?” Yes, it was foolish to worry about each and every possible risk. Instead, why not give thought to possible benefits.
Yes. So very sweet. Fortune favors the worthy. The enemy soldiers would not kill the Minister of Finance. An unbalanced young soldier would. A young maniac warped by a life as a violent and underappreciated pawn. A young traitor helping to coordinate the dastardly sneak attack on the island. Sousuke Sagara. Those who spoke out in his posthumous defense would see the glaring light of suspicion shining on them. Such a terrible tragedy. But, while the flames of confusion and uncertainty swirled around the survivors, Liang Yong would be a guide, the man to lead Mithril through the chaos.
************************************************************
End of part 1
Good start all around...