The Bazatov Conspiracy

By Geoffrey A. Gilbert

THE BAZATOV CONSPIRACY

When CIA Agent, Melville Zadev boarded Gateway Airways Flight 189 at Abu Dhabi International Airport, Thanksgiving dinner was on his mind. The many overseas assignments left him in a state of sheer exhaustion another three months, and hell be saying goodbye to the CIA. But by a strange and ironic twist of fate, Zadev learnt even before he landed at JFK that his blissful thoughts of retiring, were far from becoming a reality. Two Jihadists had commandeered the flight. One of them is holding a knife to the throat of a senior flight attendant, while his accomplice spews out a slew of hateful anti- American expletives. They had one objective - blasting the Boeing 777 with 283 American passengers out of the sky! Zadev teams up with an off duty Marine to confront the hijackers!
The accolades came from every quarter, and Melville Zadev is hailed as a true American hero. The CIA man thought he had fought his final battle. But the terrorists were not daunted by the botched hijacking. Soon, Zadev hits the road, tracking a shadowy and elusive enemy! From Allepo, to the exotic French Riviera and Ramadi in Iraq, Zadev goes on a ruthless hunt for the jihadists. In Moscow, a former Military man joins him in the fight; but the terrorists had other ideas. An assassins bullet takes out a key informant, moments after he met Zadev and his Russian partner. Americas arch enemy - the MAKI Network, led by Jatan Bazatov, has another score to settle. And while Zadev plans his strategy to liquidate the evil masterminds, a mole within the CIA, sells top secret intelligence to Americas enemies!
Its a desperate race against time for Melville Zadev and Vladimir Slavancovic, as they try to stop Bazatov and his group of barbaric jihadists.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781496974099

Geoffrey A. Gilbert

Geoffrey A. Gilbert is the Author of three other Novels: Jungle Rescue, The Bazatov Conspiracy, and A Chase To Argyle’s Castle. He is an ardent follower of Current and International Affairs. With his meandering thrill and adventure, Gilbert intrigues readers with sheer excitement, and unpredictability. He also aspires to have his work adapted to film. Gilbert participated in Hollywood PitchFest – Los Angeles, California (September 2014), and Las Vegas, Nevada (June 2016). Visit www.geoffrey a gilbert.com, for more details.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The sun tried to pierce through the dense morning clouds, as American troops waited in their bunkers nearby. Hovering in the sky above the massive runway at Manas Air Base, a giant C-5 Galaxy transport plane made a sharp turn in preparation for landing. Troops from the Fourth Armored Division and other detachments were cooling down from the rigors of war. Many of them had completed five tours of duty, moving between Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan and Fallujah, Iraq. They were extremely tired. The weeks and months of intense fighting in the caves and dusty back alleys had taken a devastating toll on the troops. Finally, they were on their way home!

Greig, Matt and Craig were busy sending messages on their I-Phones. They fought many grueling battles during the last six months. And although their company lost men on the battlefield, the guys were in very high spirits.

So what’s the order of business when you get back to New Orleans man? Greig asked.

A slight inflection in his voice revealed the flirtatious mischief on his mind.

Man, I’ll be hanging out with my sweetie all night long – trying to make up for lost time.

The lanky Louisiana native had a lustful hungry look in his eyes. He just couldn’t wait for that heart- thumping testosterone blast!

How about you Matt? Greig inquired with a comical grin.

Guys, I’m so frigging horny right now, a nice sweet fat pussy will be just right for me! Man, I’ll jump anything with a heartbeat! Haven’t made love to my baby in over six months.

Wow! I’m sorry for whoever gets hit by that hungry dick you got there man.

Greig tried to hide the sarcastic smile on his face.

Yeah, you didn’t realize that things were so bad with me, replied the sex starved Matt.

Heard a few of the guys chatting last night - the usual shit - SDS, some hardcore porn and the kind of hot steamy stuff to ease the boredom.

What the heck is that?

Matt rolled his big eyes in excitement.

"Can’t believe you never heard about something called sex deprivation syndrome. Soldiers get it all the time."

Greig sounded like an expert on the subject.

That’s why you’ve been spending so much time in the outdoor toilet. The talk around here is that you’ve been jerking off every night in the little room.

How dare you accuse me of beating my dick, retorted Greig angrily.

He made a desperate attempt to conceal his brazen lie; Matt couldn’t help himself. His buddy is providing some cheap comic relief.

Ha! Ha! Yeah, right - if only the outdoor toilets could talk brother.

The guys continued their boyish chatter as the sound of the circling military transport got louder. Then at exactly 6:20 AM, local time, 8:20 PM in Washington, a massive explosion ripped through the building. The smell of explosives filled the air, and the sounds of heavy machine gunfire reverberated in and around the compound. A blistering barrage of rocket and artillery fire rained down on the Air Base - it was a well-coordinated three- pronged attack. From the southern flank, the attackers were pounding the Americans with an even more intense barrage from a T84 Main Battle Tank.

How on earth did they get hold of this piece of military hardware?

Matt couldn’t contain his anger as they hunkered down behind the makeshift barricades.

What the troops did not know was that this daring daylight raid signaled the beginning of a series of belligerent and defiant attacks on American facilities across the world. Manas Airbase, located in Alamudun, Kyrgyzstan played a pivotal role during the American military involvement in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Security at the Base has always been a top priority. General John Felix, the man in charge of the facility, now has the extremely difficult task of explaining how and why this audacious assault occurred. It is no secret that the relationship between Bishkek and Washington has been lukewarm in recent times, over matters relating to the Air Base. The attack on Manas should not come as a surprise. There has been a significant increase in the number of threats against the United States by Jihadists and other terrorist groups in recent times.

Some Western intelligence sources speculate that the Government of Kyrgyzstan has come under increased pressure from Moscow due to the American presence so close to their backyard. It is also no secret that the Russians are prepared to outbid the Americans when the lease for the facility expires.

President Ivannov and his cohorts in the Kremlin are uncomfortable with the present arrangement. They believe the American Air Base at Manas poses a serious threat to the security of the Russian Federation. On a recent visit to Moscow, Kyrgyzstan’s Foreign Minister, Maldo Bhovic was heard at a State dinner openly expressing his feelings on the issue.

These fucking Americans, they still think they own the world! They have no respect for our sovereignty, and because they have a lot of money, we are treated like puppets on a string. Somebody has to put a stop to this damn nonsense!

The Base Commander grabbed his M16 rifle and rushed out of the fortified headquarters; loud explosions and gunfire erupted around the compound. Greig raced across to the armory; his buddies had already joined the ragged line waiting for weapons. Matt is furious, and felt that the attack could be the work of any of the militant groups with a pathological hatred for America. Taliban insurgents and the Haqqani Militia immediately flashed through his mind. At the moment, Matt didn’t care too much about the perpetrators - he just wanted to make them pay!

The young Airman had some choice expletives for all the rebels who are now disrupting his homeward journey, and the plans he had for some good old- fashion starvation sex!

Although the compound is secured by a four meter high perimeter fence, enemy forces had somehow infiltrated the facility by blasting a hole on the south side - the area considered to be the Achilles heel of the sprawling facility. Simultaneously, the attackers laid down a carpet of heavy machine gun and RPG fire from two points along a nearby ridge. Rockets and mortars were exploding everywhere!

Mother-fuckers, don’t mess with us!

Matt shouted as he climbed into the AH – 64 E helicopter gunship. The young pilot never even dreamt about flying the new bird in an actual combat situation so early. When the spanking new Guardian helicopter gunship – America’s latest piece of military hardware, rolled out onto the Manas Airbase just about six months ago, the troops went crazy. Experienced helicopter pilots marveled at this monster’s amazing firepower and capabilities. Zac Dawson, Retired Air Force General, had this to say about the AH-64 E.

I’ve had an opportunity to fly this thing, and wow! It packs a whole lot of fire power! Talk about all-weather vision enhancements, hovering capacity, improved and advance payload capability and avionics. The Guardian’s got it all! If you think the older version Apaches had a punch, then you need to fly the AH- 64 E. It’s such an incredible fighting machine!

Craig remembered so clearly the words of the Retired General, while lifting off the tarmac to confront the enemy entrenched on the heavily wooded ridge overlooking the Airbase. The thick clouds got slighter darker, but it made no difference. The attackers fired a couple more rounds; Craig kept his hand on the stick. He watched the incoming projectiles explode harmlessly in midair.

He maneuvered the chopper and prepared to open fire on the enemy. The gung- ho Airman from New Orleans, Louisiana decided not to waste precious time. He made a slight 18 degree adjustment, and then swooped down low in a fast strafing turn to engage the attackers.

The men on the ridge kept on firing wildly at the elusive chopper approaching ominously from the rear of their hideout. In the midst of the chaos, a few fighters tried moving to slighter higher ground. Both rocket pods were peppering the rebel positions with a hellish barrage. An incessant hail of fire from the nose cannon of the gunship had the resistance fighters on the run! The blistering counterattack by the Americans gathered momentum. Smoldering rubble and other enemy projectiles and equipment smuggled in by the fighters, fueled a scorching inferno. Matt watched the blaze and resisted the temptation to unleash more of the Guardian’s firepower on the Insurgents.

When would they ever learn? Every time they attack us, we’ll kick their fucking ass even harder!

I’d often wonder myself, said Greig as the chopper gained altitude and hovered majestically over billowing plumes of thick black smoke.

Man, I just can’t understand why they hate us so much, we’ve done a lot for these bastards – forsaking our families, and yet at every turn they’re trying to kill us. When will this madness come to an end?

Maybe, not in our lifetime, said Matt, as the men continued their aerial surveillance, scouting the hillside terrain for any signs of resistance.

There was some activity near the southern flank, but the chopper pilot knew that the tank crew will take care of that.

Matt leaned forward, straining slightly against the pull of his safety harness and replied.

I hear all of what you’re saying man, but remember soldiers don’t make war. We put our boots on after the big politicians and strategists in Washington make their decision. So let’s not kid ourselves, we’re like puppets on a string man. We go where we’re told to go, and parachute behind enemy lines when the command is sounded!

Roger that brother, you’ve got it right on the button.

Craig circled around the southern perimeter to land the helicopter gunship. He certainly can boast of having the distinction of being the first pilot to fly this awesome bird in a live combat situation. As the men walked back from the gigantic hangar; a feeling of pride and great jubilation came over them. Craig’s mother will be extremely proud! He pulled the insignia on his sleeve and kissed it gently. Then he shouted the words of his former Marine Corp buddy who was killed in a bloody Taliban ambush near Jalalabad, Afghanistan.

Semper Fidelis – always faithful. I flew this mission just for you John.

Near the southern quadrant of the Airbase, the C 5 Galaxy had already landed, and the men of the 376th Expeditionary Wing set up a defensive corridor to protect the giant transport plane. The activation procedures were quite impressive. Within minutes of the attack, three M1 A1 Abrams tanks opened up on the mound near the southeastern end of the Airbase. The heavy projectiles were pummeling the attackers, who for some reason thought that because the troops were heading home, security may be a bit lax.

They certainly got much more than what they had bargained for. Another spiraling column of smoke shot through the dark misty sky. Some of the attackers tried to flee the scene of the battle, only to be cut down by elite sniper units stationed on the rooftop. Steve spotted a group of attackers taking cover behind a cluster of rocks and boulders. He wanted at least two more hits. Special Forces marksman Steve Stalker, held the AS 50 sniper rifle gently. He sighted the figure crouching in the distance. In the sniper scope, Steve saw the bearded figure clad in a dark musk colored turban. The man looked like a Taliban Fighter.

He waited for the right moment. Steve wished he could have found a way to know what’s going through the mind of his adversary. The Special Forces sniper had no remorse for what he’s about to do anyway. He is a soldier in the United States Army, simply honoring his pledge and commitment to the Motherland. The man wearing the turban lifted the RPG and straightened his torso to take aim. It was his last act of defiance in the rugged hillside about five kilometers from the village of Chorgolo. Steve held the sturdy titanium frame of the AS 50 firmly on the tripod. He took a deep breath, and then gently squeezed the trigger. The bullet struck Ziad Muhammad Khalif under his left ear, killing him instantly.

The days of another rebel fighter had come to a fiery end.

In another sector of the expansive Airbase, medics were treating the wounded. There were numerous shrapnel wounds, cuts, contusions and severe lacerations. Thankfully, none of the injuries appeared to be life threatening. The camp is well equipped to handle such cases, and all hands pitched in to take care of the wounded. The assault on the Airbase however, delayed their departure by at least another thirty six hours. General Felix had already contacted Kyrgyzstan’s Minister of Defense, Valdit Ryeskiyev to demand answers. The American Administration pays a huge price tag for the use of the facilities at Manas. As part of the agreement, the local military assumed responsibility for patrolling the outer fringes and surrounding hillsides overlooking the Airbase.

I do not understand how this could have happened Comrade, replied Col. Ryesikyev.

We’ve been working together for the last year or so, and I’ve got no reason to mistrust you. This incident certainly leaves many unanswered questions!

The American General struggled to restrain his boiling anger.

Col. Ryesikyev tried to appease him.

Orders have gone out to our field commanders; they are to reconnoiter and seal off the entire area. Two aerial patrols have been deployed from an airfield near Batken Province. General, let’s make a deal. Don’t give a full report to the guys in Washington – make it look like some kind of accident – the careless handling of explosives - I am sure you know what I mean.

The Defense Minister’s comments infuriated the American General.

You must be out of your fucking mind! General Felix was livid.

Listen my friend, you don’t have to worry. You’re my guest, and in keeping with tradition and hospitality – we take good care of our friends. It’s only a handful of misfits – infidels and trouble makers who’re trying to poison our otherwise excellent relationship.

The American tried to be comforted by Colonel Valdit’s reassuring words, but to no avail. General Felix knew that both Governments were squabbling over the American occupation of the Manas Military Airbase. In fact, only last July, American Secretary of State, John Woody concluded discussion with his Romanian counterpart, Naltus Mavodic. Unconfirmed reports say that the Romanians have agreed in principle to lease one of their major military facilities, located in the southern part of the country to the Americans.

Once the deal is finalized, the Americans are expected to relinquish their interest in Kyrgyzstan’s Manas Air Base. Colonel Valdit tried really hard to show the American, that despite the brewing tensions between Washington and Moscow, there is still hope for improvement in the relationship.

Time alone will tell my friend! Please take the necessary measures to ensure that the compound does not come under rocket and RPG fire a second time. If it happens again, our response will be felt much further than Bishkek - this I promise you!

General Felix, I do not believe that such sentiments do anything to improve our already strained relations. They are quite inflammatory, and play right into the hands of the terrorists. You Americans seem to forget that many States in the Russian Federation continue to grapple with the scourge of terrorism. From Chechnya to Dagestan, we’ve seen and felt their bloody and venomous tentacles! We’re in this together my friend, and now more than ever, we need each other. To defeat the terrorists, we must continue to cooperate – there is no other way!

The American Commander shook his head in partial agreement and walked back towards the main compound were medics were busy patching up the wounded. He thanked Defense Minister Ryeskiyev for his sentiments. Felix now has to compile a lengthy report about the assault on the Airbase for the Department of Homeland Security and the Defense Department. This document eventually ends up on the desk of the President of the United States. While, General Felix believes that the assault on the facility may be the work of rebel insurgents, he is also aware that the Russians are not very comfortable with the American presence virtually on their doorsteps.

About eighteen months ago, a group of jihadists held a meeting in the Capital of Dagestan. The guests included militants from Kyrgyzstan, Azerbaijan and Chechnya. Hezbollah, al Qaeda, Taliban Fighters and Islamic Jihad were there as well. A top secret and highly confidential document gave a blunt and scary account of the terrorist summit in the fall of 2013. The report did indicate that the jihadists had plans to attack facilities like Manas Airbase.

The report further stated: Despite our recent successes in neutralizing the leadership of the terrorist networks, it is important to note that new and virulent hybrids are evolving. These guys are quite serious about spreading the message of hate and anti-American hysteria. They elected a leader to rule over all the splinter groups – a kind of network. To gain membership, recruits simply had to pledge their allegiance to the Great Leader then denounce America, the Russian Federation and all other European powers, allied to the United States.

General Felix concluded his last interview with the soldiers and airmen at Manas Air Base around 3:45 PM. In the canteen, he ordered a cup of coffee before heading back to his office. He climbed the short flight of stairs leading to his office, and pondered his future in America’s war on terror. New terrorist groups are emerging, and Felix knows that the fight is going to continue for a very long time.

He cleared his thoughts, and then sat behind the sturdy oak desk to begin the report on today’s incident. The facility had returned to normal and some of the troops were cooling down again. Greg and his buddies were shooting some hoops on a makeshift basketball court, while other servicemen played pool or drank beer. Their homeward journey was delayed, but they all knew that the countdown is about to begin. Soon, the giant C - 5A Galaxy transport plane, would come hurtling down the massive runway out of the sprawling Air Base. The troops may never return to Manas, but whatever happens, they’ll leave with fond memories of the facility from which numerous airstrikes were launched against America’s enemies. Overall, the experience gained in Kyrgyzstan has certainly been quite good for the battle weary troops, bruised and battered from the skirmishes in the caves of Jalalabad, to IED infested back alleys of Fallujah.

Jason and the guys finished playing basketball; they packed their gear, and then headed for the shower. At the moment, the horny trio had multiple things on their minds. For matt, the experience of flying the A64 E Guardian, Helicopter Gunship was one that he’ll never forget. Not even the hot steamy sex he anticipates when he’s back home can replace the deep feeling of satisfaction derived from his stint in the cockpit of the A64 E Gunship.

Retired Admiral Vladimir Slavancovic’s sat at his desk and gazed at the bustling downtown Moscow streets. He had a really hectic week; the trip to the Persian Gulf drained him. Slavncovic felt extremely tired! Maybe he should take an early break today. His wife Svetlana will be quite thrilled if the old warhorse finally took some time off from work. This has been a sore issue in their marriage; the countless quarrels and fights over the matter, weighed heavily on the Admiral’s mind today. But that’s just the way it is - fate had predestined him to be a military man. The hard, tough discipline and work ethics come with the territory.

He continued to enjoy the tranquil autumn, Moscow morning, but for some strange reason, Vladimir kept on thinking about Svetlana. Perhaps he should surprise her and return home earlier today. Not a good idea at this time, he thought. The stacks of unfinished files on his desk are growing larger, so Vladimir finally decided to abandon the idea of an early exit from the office today. He walked towards the large window overlooking the Square. Many troubling thoughts were on his mind, he moved slowly from one corner of the room to the next. A tiny ember of ash from his cigarette, fell gently onto the thick Prussian rug.

Vladimir made a commitment to his wife to kick the habit a long time ago, but sometimes the urge becomes so strong, he’ll slip back into his old ways. Svetlana knows that he really tries hard. She blames his heavy smoking on the many years spent as Head of the Russian Pacific Fleet. Back then, the forty year old Vladimir was a young and fit stud stationed in Vladivostok. He had the strength and virility of a Siberian tiger, and women lined up in droves to feel the power of the Russian Stallion. And oh how he loved it! Winter in Vladivostok was not too harsh, but the dark foggy nights created the perfect conditions for wild unlimited sexual pleasure. The navy men found solace in alcohol and tobacco use also.

All this came to a screeching halt in the summer of 2007. He had just returned to Moscow from a long assignment in Sevastopol. Vladimir wanted something to erase the gruesome war images which were inundating his mind. Club Gadanski on Minsk Street seemed to be the ideal spot to chill. Admiral Slavancovic still remembers that life changing and poignant moment. Certainly, he’ll never forget that fateful night when he first met his wife - the beautiful, gorgeous and sexy, Svetlana Armatilova!

The Admiral’s pleasant reminiscing was interrupted by the loud chime of the telephone on the big oval desktop.

Hello, this is Vladimir?

The voice at the other end was terse and rather agitated.

Comrade! When are we getting the shipment of weapons? The men are depending on me, I can’t disappoint them.

Oh yes, my dear friend, I am working on things! I’ve got all the paperwork sorted out - the weapons will be ready by the middle of the month. There was an explosion at the Lubyanka Plant – we had to make alternative arrangements.

Hamid nodded his head vigorously, he was running out of patience.

Comrade! No more of your fucking games! Just remember, we need the sniper rifles, Kalashnikovs and the gas masks. I am sure that you do not want your head to end up in an old rusty concrete mixer!

"Are you threatening me, comrade?

Slavancovic tried to restrain the raging anger he felt. He remembered his friend and protégée – Igor Alexei. Only eighteen months ago, the former Spetsnaz officer disappeared in rather mysterious circumstances. He was last seen leaving the Bolshoi Ballet Theatre with an unknown female companion. A black Lada sedan pulled up about 50 meters from Zherdinski Square, and two men in trench coats bundled him into the back seat. Months later, a demolition crew working on a site for a new supermarket construction project, made the gruesome discovery in a chunk of buried concrete. Forensic analysis confirmed the identity of the missing trooper.

No my friend, not at all! We’ve been doing business for quite a while now – there is no need for any threats.

Oh, I see. Hamid, by now you guys should realize that I am a man of my word; not a double crossing prick!

Good! Good! My trusted comrade, you know that the Americans are planning a major military exercise in the Gulf next spring - we must be prepared to attack them!

Don’t worry, you’ve got my word Comrade Hamid – the shipment is going to be delivered as promised. You can count on me!

The man from Ansar Al Sharia ended the conversation with his Russian partner, and then retreated to the bunker deep in the rocky gorge. Slavancovic placed the receiver down firmly and walked to the refrigerator for a drink. After his chat with Hamid, he felt a harsh dryness in his throat - a rather husky abrasive feeling. The Russian had to find a way out of this; the men from the Arabian Peninsula had already transferred two million United States Dollars to a Swiss Bank account operated by the retired Admiral as a down payment.

Account 10097876301, opened in Zurich, Switzerland, in the name of Igor Sakorov was credited with two similar transfers within the last five years. Slavancovic used an alias, and the whole gamut of tricks to conceal his true identity. Now that he wants to sever ties with these heartless murderers, he had to find a way to wriggle out of this unholy alliance. Slavancovic first thought about reneging on the commitment he gave to al Qaeda about two years ago, after the FSB linked the bombing of the Russian Metro Station to Jihadist radicals known to be affiliated with Ansar al Sharia.

Western Intelligence sources have confirmed that the terrorists were trained in the former Soviet Republic of Latvia. When Slavancovic saw the gruesome television footage – mangled bodies strewn among metal and glass fragments, it caused him to have a change of heart. He decided to keep the money; but no more weapons for the murdering bastards! A significant portion was used to help the victims and their families.

After the collapse of the Soviet Union, Vladimir Slavancovic struggled to pay the rent for his squalid rat infested rundown Moscow apartment. He reverted to sporadic menial jobs like delivery of Izvestia and other periodicals to put food on the table. Things got so bad at one point; he even reverted to shoplifting and peddling narcotics to take care of Svetlana and their baby daughter Elliana. This had to be the lowest point in the life of the former powerful military man.

Despite the subsequent depression and anxiety over his inability to take care of his family, Vladimir did not give up hope for a better life. He knew of other former high ranking officers, who just could not cope with the drop in their standard of living, following the demise of the mighty Soviet Empire. The name Victor Petroski comes to mind immediately. This outstanding Nuclear Physicist was the head of the Soviet Union’s Intercontinental Ballistic Missile Program located in Tagansky District.

When the system collapsed, and all the luxuries which were commensurate with such a prestigious position vaporized, Petrosky just couldn’t handle the stress and the humiliation. This once powerful man who knew the secret codes for perhaps the most lethal nuclear arsenal on the planet at that time, had to wash dishes and deliver packages to make ends meet. For Petroski, this was the ultimate act of betrayal by the State! He started drinking heavily, smoked about six packets of cigarettes per day before he finally buckled under the immense pressure.

On a cool autumn evening, Petrosky purchased two bottles of Vodka and headed for the Leningradsky Rail Terminal. As he waited for the next train to arrive, he slowly removed the bottle cap while keeping the booze concealed in the wrinkled brown wrapping. He felt the vibration of the approaching locomotive before the piercing headlights illuminated the metal tracks and graffiti splattered subway tunnel. Viktor Petroski placed the bottle to his lips, swallowed hard, then ran towards the edge of the platform. The speeding train made contact with him seconds after his feet left the scarred concrete surface, flinging his torso smack in the middle of the greasy dirt- filled metal track.

The train driver tried desperately to apply the emergency brake; passengers screamed frantically but only in vain. Petroski’s torso and limbs were pulverized under the impact of the rushing train. As the occupants of the car closest to the grizzly impact continued to wail and scream, bone fragments and other body parts ricocheted against the left exit door. Blood splattered against the window panes as the traumatized passengers continued to scream. By this time, the number 15 train en route to Murmansk, came to a complete stop. A terrified commuter fainted, causing more panic and hysteria.

Vladimir Slavancovic took a huge gulp from the tall glass of orange juice in a feeble attempt to blot out the memories of the demise of his dear and special friend - Viktor Petroski. He walked back to his desk. From the adjacent window, Vladimir observed the throngs of pedestrians and the heavy vehicular traffic on Petrovaka Street.

The demise of Comrade Petroski really lingered on his mind. Thankfully, his situation did not take such a catastrophic turn, although the sharp plummet in his standard of living almost cost him his marriage.

Soon, the glamorous and glitzy lifestyle Admiral Vladimir Slavancovic once enjoyed started all over again, compliments al Qaeda! America’s arch enemy had found its way to Moscow, and with an infinite amount of hard cold cash, the notorious band of terrorist soon realized that they had access not only to military hardware, but chemical and biological agents. They can now resume their plan to destroy the Great Satan and payback America for the numerous drone strikes which resulted in the annihilation of their leadership!

It’s really amazing how quickly things can change, Vladimir Slavancovic had already made up his mind. Previous atrocities by the jihadists, convinced him that his recantation was justified. How could he live with such a painful and heavy burden on his conscience? The Russian military man finished his drink and decided that he’ll surprise Svetlana. It’s been quite a while since they had a leisurely stroll in the park, or enjoyed the ballet.

That’s the perfect way of celebrating, let these murdering bastards find someone else to do their dirty work, I want no more of this!

Vladimir Slavancovic smiled. He threw the empty carton in the overfilled garbage bin beneath his desk. He felt like taking his darling wife Svetlana and little Elliana on a downtown shopping spree today. It’s been a while since they took a quiet stroll through Losiny Ostrov National Park, or visited the marvelous Pushkin Museum of Fine Arts. Today is going to be an impromptu family day – Svetlana will love that!

He cleared the files and stacks of paper from his desk, walked over to the fireproof cabinet and tossed the bundle in. Vladimir is generally very thorough and methodical, but today he appeared rather nervous and fidgety. The conversation with the man from the Arabian Peninsula had ruffled him a bit, but the old warrior knows how to play the game. These modern day rogues will soon find out that he is a mean and