Berlin,Germany
Chapter 1
Lena Pemberton crept down Unter den Linden as she passed Freedom Square, the Russian Embassy in full view, its red walls shining in the sunset. She walked along the cobblestone streets toward Brandenburg Gate. As the agent held the Cabot Apocalypse gun in her hand, she felt a cold metal sensation against her skin. In her position as an agent, she could take refuge in the comfortable sights and sounds of the field. This was after her father and husband died. The agent didn't mind the buzzing crowd because it allowed her to blend in with the others. She listened for any sounds while observing the scene with dark eyes. She didn't value anyone. He was an agent of the SVR and she gained his loyalty and trust while recruiting him in Jordan.
Crushing blows struck her ears from behind, quickening her heartbeat. She listened for any sounds while looking around with her dark eyes. The agent drew her pistol and told her to calm down. The Russian agent emerged from the shadows.
Where you followed here?" Yuri inquired, concerned.
"Don't worry, I made sure they did not follow me," Leana remarked calmly.
"You can never be too cautious. "You have no idea how deadly they are," the asset warned her.
"I'm here, so what's so important that we had to meet?" the agent inquired
"The Bratva and Sandino family are smuggling thousands of paintings and antiques from all around the world onto the underground market to be sold to private collectors to support terrorism," the Russian said, anxiously glancing around.
Lena took a breather. The Russian Mafia and the Sandino family are involved in the underground market. There has to be an angle or a link. So what exactly was it? The question on her mind was, "Who was behind it?
"Who's behind it?" the agent inquired, clearly intrigued.
Already on his knees, the Asian Twilight assembled the FN Ballista sniper rifle and loaded its ten-box magazine. He peered through the enormous scope. His broker had told him that his client wanted the Russian dead while he waited for the right moment to squeeze the trigger. The assassin squeezed the trigger as the round blasted out of the barrel, knocking the Russian to the ground.
He removed the pelican case and placed it inside. The assassin closed it, flung it down, and rushed down the stairwell behind the hotel, snatching the case. He strolled up to his vehicle and climbed inside. Dev raced along the street, headed to his Safehouse, as he spoke over his earpiece.
"We have a problem, and her name is Lena Pemberton." The assassin was curious.
"She works at the US Embassy as Cultural Attaché," his broker said via the earpiece.
The agent ran over to her asset, which was lying on the ground. She muttered to herself, "Fuck.". It was unacceptable.
Yuri's voice shook as he uttered Alexander A-Andreevich's name, his breath labored.
Lena's voice cracked through the comm. "My asset is down," she voiced through the comm.
Lex's voice echoed in the comm. "What intelligence did your asset provide you with?" he asked.
"Yuri gave me a name before they killed him." "Alexander Andreevich," replied the agent.
As Nicky's eyes studied the file on the screen, her fingers flew across the keyboard. "He's a financier for the Bratva, who launders money for them." As a high roller, he often travels with his bodyguards. Andreevich has twelve offshore bank accounts in eighteen countries. He was then promoted to enforcer, where he had the opportunity to distinguish himself. Mogilevich was thrilled and saw promise in him. He was seventeen years old when he began doing errands for Bratva. The Russian mafia, if they needed him to dump a suitcase of currency at the drop-off location, did it, as well as get rid of any firearm they had used. Eventually, he established his own financial company, Andreevich Investment, through which he began laundering money for them and terrorists."
"Interesting," Leana replied, attempting to figure out what they should do next. "You mentioned he was a high roller, right? Look at his travel arrangements."
The hacker studied the screen before saying, "Andreevich will be in Monte Carlo next week, staying at Hotel de Paris."
"Andreevich is our key to discovering who is behind the illegal market," Lex explained.
Lex quickly stepped out of the parked Coris Grey Defender 110, tightly gripping his Glock 21. Summer did the same, scanning the area with her H&K MPSSO. Unofficially, they didn't exist. The agents were a secret black operations program known only to Director Hamilton and President Roberts. They couldn't rely on the CIA or the White House for help if they were revealed or disavowed since the agents were completely defensible. Had to rely entirely on themselves to complete the task.
Summer reasoned that the sniper had to be on the rooftop of a hotel somewhere in the distance, implying that the assassin had most likely vanished by now.
"Nicky, I need to check over numerous camera angles to see if you can figure out which hotel the assassin was operating at," Summer said over the radio.
"Westin Hotel rooftop," said her colleague.
As the agent hurried down the busy cobblestone sidewalk, making her way through the crowd toward the hotel, she couldn't help but feel discouraged. Despite dashing across congested traffic and searching tirelessly, there was no trace of the Raptor or Leslie. It was as if they had gone completely off the grid. Summer dashed through the alleyway behind the Westin Hotel and up the emergency stairwell to the rooftop. The agent/assassin examined the scene, looking for anything out of the norm. Her gaze was drawn to the blazing hot casing. She grabbed it and immediately recognized it as a 338 Lapua.
"I don't think this was the Raptor," she thought. He usually used a 50 caliber, not a 338 Lapua. This must be an unknown assassin, but not to her. Summer had encountered this assassin before when they teamed up with Mossad and another assassin.
Summer dashed down the stairs as she dashed across the street. With Leana's asset no longer active. They had to go back to the safe house for a debriefing. The agents slid into the Jeep, and the door shut with a muffled click. They drove back down the street to the safe house. Orleana peered at the window, attempting to figure out how Bratva or Russian intelligence knew she would have a rendezvous with Yuri.
When the agents arrived back at the safe house, two CIA security agents greeted them standing outside; the door closed with a loud thud behind them. The station chief, Christine Alexander, and a counterintelligence agent, Laura Kane, noticed Lex, Orleana, and Summer approaching. Nicky got up from her desk.
The station chief addressed the agents as they settled onto the sofa. "Orleana, I understand that you suffered the loss of your father and husband during Operation Rasputin. Perhaps it would be best for us to take charge of this mission."
"I know the loss of my father and Wade during that operation. Yuri was a valuable asset, and we already have intelligence on our target. Let's proceed with the operation," stated Orleana.
"Well, so what do you learn from your asset?" Christine questioned.
The Bratva and the Sandino family are involved in smuggling paintings and antiques into the black market. This is to fund terrorist activities," Orleana explained.
The station chief inquired about the possibility of the Bratva and the Sandino family being involved in smuggling activities on the black market. If this were the case, it would suggest that the culprit has connections with both organizations.
"I assure you, it's not the previous don that I eliminated during my previous assignment for the CIA under Tyler Quinn, who was in charge of black ops. The current family don is Vito, who is known for his dangerous and ruthless nature," explained Summer.