Black Operator: The Moscow Assassins

By Eric Meyer

The latest epic Shortread novella from bestselling author Eric Meyer.
FIFTH in the Black Operator: Assassin series.

Maria Tereshkova has been on the run for her life for more than a year, she is kept alive by Cris Rhodes, former DEA operator. Tereshkova is a key candidate for the Russian presidency. The hunt has been relentless, and they spend their lives in hiding. Until a message arrives from the Kremlin. The chase is over, the President has opted to use democratic means to win over the voters. The cruel hunters have been called off.

That is until the sister of an assassin, killed by Rhodes, makes an offer that is too good to refuse. She will eliminate Tereshkova and her protector in an independent operation, with no links to the Presidency.

Tereshkova and Rhodes are hole up in a remote cabin in Northern Michigan, guarded by a platoon of Michigan Militia. But their newfound security is about to end. A new trio of assassins arrives, and they are more formidable than ever. Two convicted mass-murderers, skilled in every aspect of human slaughter. Huge, Russian beasts, led by a young woman with the face of an angel and a heart blacker than hell itself. The trio is unstoppable, and they leave a trail of bodies in their wake. Cris Rhodes must dredge up every last vestige of his skills and strength to stay ahead of the killers and keep them both alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Swordworks Books
• Release date: Nov 28, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370332380

Eric Meyer

An internationally recognized expert on the subjects of HTML, CSS, and Web standards, Eric has been working on the web since late 1993. He is the founder of Complex Spiral Consulting, a co-founder of the microformats movement, and co-founder (with Jeffrey Zeldman) of An Event Apart, the design conference series for people who make web sites. Beginning in early 1994, Eric was the campus Web coordinator for Case Western Reserve University, where he authored a widely acclaimed series of three HTML tutorials and was project lead for the online version of the Encyclopedia of Cleveland History combined with the Dictionary of Cleveland Biography, the first example of an encyclopedia of urban history being fully and freely published on the Web.

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BLACK OPERATOR: THE MOSCOW ASSASSINS

By Eric Meyer

Copyright 2017 by Eric Meyer

Published by Swordworks Books

www.facebook.com/ericmeyerfiction

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Prologue

They met on the outskirts of a small town named Glen Arbor. Set on the shores of Lake Superior, the picturesque place as you would expect of a resort town in winter, quiet and remote, without burying themselves in the middle of some sprawling National Park high in the mountains.

They represented a group called the Michigan Militia, rough men, tough, and many of them older, men with a mission. Cris and Maria had made the arrangement, using his knowledge and contacts to approach them, and promising her wealth to pay them an agreed daily rate in return for mounting an armed guard, a ring of steel around their hiding place.

They'd argued at first, and she'd insisted the threat was over.

You know it’s safe. All the indicators say so, Cris.

He nodded in agreement. The portents were good. Contacts in Moscow assured her that new orders had come down from the Kremlin. The hunt was over, period. They'd wearied of the chase, and shied from the negative publicity resulting from too many failures. The bodies of Russian Special Forces operators, SVR and FSB hitmen, and independent contractors were beginning to pile up, and awkward questions being asked. They'd decided it wasn't worth it. Warned her to stay away, and she'd be safe. He didn't believe it.

Maria, they’ve said many things over these past two years, and all of them proved to be lies. Why would you believe them now?

She said stared back at him, her pretty, pixie face relaxed yet eager for him to believe it. Don't you see it makes sense, Cris? You've fought them off. Every attempt they've made to kill me, and you've won. You should savor your victory, and start to relax. Live your life, with me. For the first time, we can enjoy ourselves without fear of attack.

I'll try, he replied, but he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. The caution that had kept them alive during the long months of being hunted, and battling the different killers they'd sent against them.

She gave a decisive nod; That's it, then. We can relax and live openly. Stop worrying about it.

No. The way he said the single word was like a long statement brooking no room for argument.

No?

That's right, no. It's too early, too soon. But here's what I will agree to. I'll find some people to look after us, and we’ll go somewhere remote, off the grid, with a bunch of men to patrol the perimeter and make sure we are safe. It's a compromise, Maria. Not everything you want, but at least you won't be looking over your shoulder every few minutes.

She didn't like it and argued at length, but in the end saw the logic and agreed. As a former DEA agent, Cris Rhodes had many contacts, both inside and outside the Agency. Both inside and outside the law. The men he contacted were on the fringes. The famed Michigan Militia, who vowed to keep the country safe from all those who would interfere with democracy, as laid down by the Constitution. The Constitution they swore to defend with their lives. But like most irregulars, they were always short of funds.

He called the local commander for Northern Michigan, Al Quinby. A weasel-faced, man with bowlegs, almost like he'd spent most of his life on horseback. Maybe he had, but Rhodes never saw him riding a horse. They met in a diner, and Quinby brought along his pal, a muscle-bound thug who claimed to earn his money as a fur trapper. He was a good old boy, and while they drank coffee, Stan Miles swigged can after can of Budweiser, although seemingly without effect. Both men carried AR-15 assault rifles openly, and Rhodes wasn't sure if that was legal in the state of Michigan. Then again, out in the boonies, who was there to argue with the Michigan Militia? A third man kept watch outside the door, and they'd introduced him as Mitch Mitchell. Cris shook hands, and said, I guess Mitch is a nickname, because your family name is Mitchell.

He looked vacant. Nope, that's all my mum could think of. My dad left the night before I was born, and I guess she couldn't give a damn what my name was. Thing is, she could write Mitchell, so that made it easy for her.

Nice.

Rhodes gave up and entered the diner to speak with the other two men. They eyed Maria first, eyeing her slim, curvy body and pretty face. Everything about her screamed class, and he could see them working out how they could get into her panties, knowing they didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell. In the end, they got down to details.

How many men? Quinby asked suddenly.

Twenty. I want all of them to be good with a gun, and we’ll rotate on and off duty every eight hours. That's eight men doing a shift and rest, rotating with the other eight, and for as a mobile reserve. Think you can do that?

A shrug. I can do anything. All I need to know is what you are paying.

He looked at Maria, and her return stare told him he could make any arrangement he chose.

Two thousand dollars a day.

You're kidding me. Five thousand.

Several minutes later, they agreed on four thousand a day, the contract to last for one calendar month. He did the math, working out that would stand her in at around one hundred and twenty grand and change. It would be worth it. Provided it kept her alive.

They were staying in a motel, and that night Al Quinby and Stan Miles brought around a minivan with darkened windows. They climbed in the back with their gear, Cris Rhodes, Maria Tereshkova, Peter Schiller, the pilot who'd flown them out of Russia, and Yuri Romanov. He was the hacker who'd help them escape from the gulags.

After driving several miles, they arrived at the cabin Quinby had put at their disposal.

It's a militia safe house, and you can take it from me, nobody even knows it exists, so you'll be safe.

They went inside and unpacked. Cris and Maria shared a bedroom, and Yuri and Peter shared another. A third room was made available for the guards, more of a bunkroom, with rows of triple stacked beds. Yuri began setting up his laptop, with a cable fed through a gap in the planking to the outside to connect to his dish. He spent almost a half-hour tracking in on the satellite, before pronouncing himself satisfied. Al Quinby watched with interest.

A satellite connection, isn't that expensive?

Not for me it isn't.

He looked puzzled. We looked into that, installing a system for this place. The idea was to give us a connection that couldn’t be traced, and the price was astronomical.

If you hack into the system, it doesn't cost anything.

You hacked into the system?

He returned a flat stare. Of course I hacked into the system. I'm a Russian. What else would I do?

The wind sighed through the trees, and unusually for late fall, the temperature was almost mild. She was lost in thought, and he was watching the movements in the trees. The militiamen were doing their best, and although not all would have seen military service, most were silent as they patrolled the perimeter. He relaxed a fraction; confident everything possible had been done. They were off the grid, and they had protection. They had no reason to suppose the Russians had any way of knowing where they were. But they'd been in that situation before, and still they'd come. And Maria almost died.

Part of what she'd agreed to pay them was for the rest