The Ring
People's Victory, Savitskaya Way
The unmarked Lada was parked across the street from the small brick two-story apartment building, located in a rather neglected part of the city. Despite massive Shadow investment, People's Victory was still in rather bad shape, though at least electricity was on all day and there was water in most households.
This particular household was of interest to NOD, hence the unmarked Lada and two surveillance officers inside it. The brick building housed a flat occupied by Dejana Midzic, mother of Nadya and Ana. One of her daughters came to Sjenska to visit, and NOD immediately put her under surveillance just in case.
So far, however, it was one boring assignment. They bugged the apartment, followed Nadya and her mother to a local store and back, and spent the last six hours listening to both women catching up on each other's lives. There was some talk about getting Nadya's mother a PeZookian visa, but no mention of Ana at all.
In the morning, a change of watch drove over in a different car. They exchanged passwords and reports, after which the first pair of officers drove off for a shower, proper meal some sleep.
"Well, it doesn't look like we'll win any medals for this", one of the new officers remarked, trying to look inside the apartment via his binoculars.
"Too bad, Dagan, but duty to the Motherland is often dull and unforgiving."
"Yeah...", Dagan put down his binoculars, "Well, the target is preparing to leave the apartment."
"Write it down...what's that car doing here?", his partner, Javor, pointed to a white, decreipt Zil van which was parking on the curb. It had no markings of any kind - and was doubly suspicious because of that - very few people in Sjenska had cars, and none lived in the immediate area.
Dagan took a look at the van and grabbed his radio, "I'll call in the license plate."
"Target is coming out of the building."
Dagan was still busy contacting their dispatcher when four men got our of the van and began walking towards Nadya. She didn't notice them at first, and when she did, it was already too late.
"What the...", Javor shouted, seeing the kidnapping. He reached into his jacket for the Skorpion submachine gun he always carried.
"No", Dagan grabbed his hand, "Don't. We'll follow them."
And so, they called in the kidnapping and watched as the goons expertly grabbed Nadya, subdued and gagged her, and sped off in their cranky old Zil.
Both officers followed their mark throughout winding, decreipt streets of People'sVictory. Cars were few and far between, and thus it was a real challenge to their fieldcraft to remain undetected - or, at least, not suspicious. They had to stay back, rely on other assets to track movements of the van, delay turns and use a hundred other tricks. After half and hour, they crossed through most of the city, and were heading for the outskirts: occupied by huge sprawls of hovels and slums, now being systematically demolished and replaced by new multi-story apartment blocks. It seemed like the chase was coming to an end, when the van suddendly turned and came to a stop in the middle of the road.
"Watch out!", Javor yelled out, seeing a glint of light reflecting off an AK barrel. Dagan dove to the floor just in time, before the sharp, brutal report of the rifle echoed throughout the empty street.
The bullets tore through the windshield and struck Javor in the chest and head, killing him instantly. Dagan opened the door and rolled out, grabbing their own AK stored under the passenger seat. The shooter anticipated this, however, and put two bullets into his silhouette.
After only a few seconds, the van drove off, leaving behind two bodies and a small pile of shell casings littering the street.
Fabowice, two hours later
"Suspect no.2 just boarded a plane to Damascus", Tomasz announced after putting down his cell phone, "He had a passport for the name Hassan Al-Sayid. Border guards are checking the document right now."
"So he basically got away. The Syrians aren't the most cooperative bunch...", Sebastian said solemnly, looking at the table littered with documents relating to the mysterious slave trader.
"We could try pressuring them through the Byzantines. They seem to listen to them, but that will take time.", Amanda pointed out, "What's far more worrisome is that we have no other leads. We don't know if he contacted anyone, he only used a pre-paid phone during his stay. We should've arrested him."
"Yeah, in hindsight, we probably should've. But we wanted to crack the entire ring..."
Both Sebastian and Amanda stared at the documents for a while, lost in their own thoughts - remembering Astaria and their organized, sanctioned slave trading practices. Their experience in that country had inspired both comissars to volunteer for work in the ASTF. So far, though, the task force had little success: and right now, they gained a rather miserable failure for their record.
"Sebastian...", one of their assistants walked into the room, "I just got forwarded a report from a criminal detective. His informers say there are people on the streets trying to contact Miksevich's organization."
Sebastian and Amanda both looked up, both of them surprised.
"Now that's interesting...somebody's checking us out?"
"Probably. Maybe we could try throwing out some bait, see what we can reel in."
"Right. Let's try to do that."
====================================================================
Cayman Islands
"This...is Station One!", the familiar jingle sounded from the TV, announcing the start of the world-renowned San Doradoan news program. The TV was on inside the spacious beachside condo, only barely audible over the sound of a running shower. It was a nice place, with palm trees visible outside, and the morning sun glistening on the lazure sea. It was paradise.
Paradise and peace, bought with blood money Ana earned working for Karic...and other contractors after that. She was going through her morning ritual, listening to world news while taking a shower. After that, she'd go to the beach and grab a few drinks, and then maybe drive to the city.
"Today, we bring you a special segment on the situation in the former Border States. As you know, these failed republics were annexed by the USSR. Today, our world-renowned reporter Brad Pitt brings you a detailed report on the fate of people living under the yoke of communist opression."
Ana snorted under her breath. She watched Station One because they had a good network of correspondents, but their take on world affairs was often cringe-inducing. She knew first hand that communist opression was by far preferable to Karic's model, which she helped create.
"Thank you Stan", the young reporter's face showed up on the screen, "I am standing here, in the center of the former capital of Sjenska, where the USSR's rule has been the most prominent. The people here seem to have been thrown from the fire onto a frying pan, from the brutal regime of Sdrjan Karic straight into the world of communist terror. Daily, people are arrested and executed - all of this in the name of order, but you will see quite soon how terrible such government repression really is."
Ana finished showering and walked out of the bathroom, wrapping a towel around her hair. The reporter kept rambling on in the background as she was getting dressed.
"On this very street, a young woman was kidnapped this morning, in broad daylight. A PeZookian citizen, she was but visiting her mother when several goons - no doubt from the security services - abducted her, right there from the street! This girl, Nadya Midzic, has never done anything wrong..."
Ana's head shot up upon hearing the name. She didn't quite believe it at first, until she grabbed a remote and switched channels to the state-sponsored Shadow news network.
"It is an unfortunate incident. We will do anything in our power to find Ms. Midzic and punish those responsible for abducting her and killing a NOD officer. Such foul acts will not escape justice!", a man in a ridiculously huge hat was speaking to a reporter. Ana recognized him as a high-ranking Shadow Militsia official.
Then Nadya's photo showed up on the screen, and Ana felt her blood chill.
She was a woman of few sensibilities: she left her family to work in the intelligence community, and later went freelance. She had no reservations about taking money for the foulest acts. She's arranged assassinations, threats and kidnappings, she's organized an exceptionally brutal system of repression for President Karic ; All these years, she never fealt guilt or remorse for her choices.
But now, seeing her little sister's face on that TV screen, she felt a very real fear. A cold, penetrating right to her bones. A fear that her family was not untouchable, and that throughout her life, she's left them helpless and alone, to fend for themselves.
And then, just like that, fear gave way to anger, and she grabbed her cell phone.
"Jonas? I need a favor..."
Results: Someone is in for a world of hurt.
