22:35 (Rome Time)
Thursday, June 4, 2015
MV Heraklion, port of Limassol
Cyprus
Captain Philipopoulos was a nervous wreck as his ship was being tied down to a quay of the Cypriot port of Limassol. He and his crew had done their best to clean up and camouflage the damage from the crazy battle between the two groups of ‘private security’ men, patching bullet holes and painting over the patches and also gathering and throwing overboard the empty bullet casings. As a result, his crewmembers were both exhausted and badly shaken, with more than a few talking about having had enough and leaving the ship in Limassol. It had taken all of Philipopoulos’ eloquence and quite a few thousands of Euros in extra pay bonuses to convince these crewmembers to stay with his ship. Hopefully, Viktor Graschev would reimburse him for this extra expense, which had come from Philipopoulos’ advance for accepting this cargo. Standing besides the captain on the bridge and wearing his black coverall, but carrying only a pistol, Senior Sergeant Fedukin was equally nervous. He was also impatient to go ashore, so that he could jump in a taxi and do a speed run to the capital, Nicosia, where he intended to hand-deliver an urgent report for Moscow via the Russian embassy’s commercial attaché, in reality a GRU{12} officer. The response from Moscow to his message could then in turn significantly affect the rest of this trip. He suspected that Moscow had not liked this business of the Saudis forcing a group of ISIS fighters aboard the MV Heraklion. Now, they would have even more reasons to go hammer some sense in those arrogant idiots. Fedukin however doubted that more Spetsnaz soldiers could be sent on such short notice, unless the departure of the cargo ship from Limassol would be significantly delayed. He was thus resigned already to having to assume the responsibility of ensuring the safety of the weapons shipment with only two men, a responsibility that, in the Russian Army, normally would be taken only by an officer and not a simple senior NCO.
Captain Philipopoulos suddenly felt a bit better when he recognized the leading Cypriot customs officer now coming up the gangway to inspect his ship: Senior Inspector Andreas Karamanlis had a good business rapport with him and was quite pliable to discreet transfers of cash. Right now, Philipopoulos could use all the good will he could get from Karamanlis.
‘’Let’s go down to the weather deck to greet our visitors, Mister Fedukin. Let me do the talking: I know well the senior customs officer.’’
Fedukin nodded in understanding and followed the captain out of the bridge and down the ladder connecting it to the main weather deck. They arrived at the top of the gangway as the five Cypriot customs officers were about to step on the deck. The leading Cypriot agent smiled on seeing Philipopoulos and saluted him.
‘’Permission to come aboard, Captain Philipopoulos.’’
‘’Permission granted, Senior Inspector Karamanlis.’’
The two men then exchanged handshakes before the captain pointed Fedukin to Karamanlis.
‘’May I present you Mister Fedukin, a private security guard hired by the Meridian Import-Export Company of Spain to escort a shipment of high value, high technology machine tools from Russia. He has two more men with him. You know how dangerous the waters off the Libyan coast are these days.’’
‘’Yes, I do.’’ Replied Karamanlis before shaking hands with Fedukin. ‘’Could I see your papers and weapons carrying permit, Mister Fedukin?’’
‘’Of course, Inspector!’’ Said Fedukin, not overly concerned: he had with him multiple sets of the best faked papers the GRU could produce. He calmly took out his Russian passport, security guard permit, Interpol-approved weapons carrying permit and an employment contract from the Meridian Company, handing them to Karamanlis. The latter studied them for a few seconds, then took out of his briefcase an official stamp and applied an entry visa on Fedukin’s passport before handing him back his papers.
‘’Welcome to Cyprus, Mister Fedukin. You may go ashore as you please, minus your pistol, of course.’’
‘’That is a given, Inspector. I am anxious to go experience your marvelous beaches: I heard a lot of good things about them.’’
‘’Indeed!’’ Replied Karamanlis, smiling in amusement. ‘’There are a lot of Scandinavian female tourists frequenting our beaches these days, many of them wearing scandalously small swimming suits.’’
Karamanlis then concentrated back his attention on Philipopoulos.
‘’So, what are you bringing to Cyprus this time, my friend?’’
‘’I have a few hundred crates of bottles of Spanish sherry wine and 200 tons of canned foodstuff to unload here from the weather deck. The rest of my cargo, which is inside my holds, is destined to Turkey.’’
Karamanlis didn’t miss the winkle Philipopoulos made while saying his last sentence. Understanding at once the message, he turned around to look at his junior customs agents.
‘’Inspect only the cargo on the weather deck: the rest is headed to Turkey.’’
‘’Yes sir!’’
Both satisfied and relieved, Philipopoulos then gave to Karamanlis the cargo manifest taken out of a pocket of his vest.
‘’Here is a copy of the manifest, for you to keep. I highlighted the items due to be unloaded here in Cyprus.’’
‘’You are decidedly a very easy man to deal with, as always, Captain Philipopoulos. Let’s go to your cabin, so that I can review this manifest properly, out of the wind.’’
‘’Of course! This way, please.’’
Leaving Fedukin to watch the gangway, the two men went to the Captain’s cabin, which opened on the same level than the weather deck and was inside the bridge superstructure. Once inside and with the door firmly closed and locked, Philipopoulos went to his work desk and unlocked one of its drawers, then pulled out a thick envelope before handing it to Karamanlis, who promptly examined its content: it was filled with twenty Euro banknotes. Karamanlis counted out a total of 5,000 Euros, a very appreciable sum in Cyprus in these rough economic times. Quite satisfied, Karamanlis shook hands with Philipopoulos after pocketing the envelope.
‘’It is definitely a pleasure to deal with you, Captain. You can be assured that the cargo inside your holds will not be disturbed by my men. Uh, you wouldn’t be able to tell me what is in your holds, would you?’’
‘’Just the latest in machine tool technology.’’ Replied Philipopoulos. If Karamanlis was disappointed by his answer he didn’t show it and left after a last goodbye to the Captain. The latter had to go sit on his work desk, blowing air out in relief: thank God that Karamanlis was in good humor tonight!
03:08 (Rome Time)
Friday, June 5, 2015
Open weather deck of the MV Heraklion
Port of Limassol, Cyprus
With the deck of the ship utterly deserted at this hour and being obscure save for a few spotlights illuminating the area of the gangway linking the ship to the quay, Farah was able to sneak out of the bow section and go hide under a tarp-covered pile. With her GPS unit and her satellite telephone in hand, she quickly called her handler in Tehran and gave the present position of the MV Heraklion, then resumed as succinctly as she could what had happened in the last 24 hours, plus passing the information about the identified Turkish intermediary. The news of the deadly fight between the Russians and the ISIS fighters seemed to both amuse and please her handler.
‘’Excellent! There is thus only minimal security left aboard your ship. That can only help the incoming phase of this mission, Sheherazade. We will take care of that intermediary in Turkey. What I need from you now is to call us again as soon as you can after your ship leaves port, so that you can give us an update of its position. If you could then send updated positions every hour, it will be perfect. One last thing, Sheherazade: you will have to be ready to eliminate the two agents travelling with you before noon tomorrow, in order to prevent them from interfering with our operation.’’
Farah felt her stomach turn acid on hearing that. While she perfectly understood the reasons for such an order, she had now spent over six days in close contact with the two Americans and had developed a decent if not truly warm rapport with them. The idea of having to kill the big, handsome ‘Stryker’ especially hurt her. She however kept her doubts to herself and responded in as firm a voice as she could muster.
‘’Message understood! I will make arrangements for that. Sheherazade out!’’
Closing her satellite telephone and her GPS locator, she stayed immobile and quiet for long minutes under the tarp, mentally debating what she was going to do in the next hours. She finally returned to the hiding storage compartment, her mind still conflicted but resigned to do what had to be done. She found both Americans sleeping at this time and quietly returned to her own sleeping corner to get some rest. With hundreds of tons of cargo to be unloaded in Limassol, the MV Heraklion would not be leaving port before at least the evening, something that would leave her ample time before the real action started.
14:46 (Rome Time)
MV Heraklion, port of Limassol
Captain Philipopoulos frowned on seeing the senior surviving Russian guard, Vladimir Fedukin, return to the ship with two strangers, one man and one woman. Hurrying to the top of the gangway, the merchant marine officer gave an inquisitive look at the big Russian and his two companions.
‘’Welcome back aboard, Mister Fedukin. May I ask who your two friends are?’’
‘’You may, Captain. They are going to accompany me and my men to Iskenderun. They were flown in on an urgent basis on the request of Mister Graschev.’’
Philipopoulos gave a none too pleased look at the two newcomers: the man was tall, athletic and blond, with a square jaw, while the woman had long black hair, was nearly as tall as the man and looked quite strong. While having a feminine body, she had the expression of a tomboy and could probably be quite dangerous by herself. Both newcomers wore informal civilian outfits but screamed ‘bodyguards’ to the Captain. However, the latter resigned himself quickly to having more potential for trouble on his ship and made a welcoming gesture.
‘’Then, welcome aboard the MV Heraklion, lady and gentleman. Mister Fedukin will be able to guide you to cabins that are now vacant. I will see you further at supper time.’’
The trio of Russians then left the Captain and went towards the aft bridge superstructure. On the way, Fedukin signaled to his man presently on watch on the open bridge port wing, shouting at him.
‘’COME DOWN TO MY CABIN: I WILL PASS SOME NEW INFORMATION.’’
The Spetsnaz soldier nodded his head in response and started on his way down from the bridge level. Two minutes later, he had joined Fedukin and the two newcomers in Fedukin’s cabin, where the other Spetsnaz soldier had been sleeping. That soldier was now awake and sitting on his bunk bed, waiting for the senior sergeant to brief them. Instead, it was the male newcomer that spoke up once the group was assembled.
‘’Let me present myself and my comrade to you, men. I am Captain Yevgeni Ponomarev, Assistant GRU Resident Officer in Nicosia, and this is Lieutenant Alexandrina Petrova, also from the GRU. The GRU Resident Officer, once briefed by Senior Sergeant Fedukin about the events on this ship, contacted Moscow and got in return new orders concerning this mission. Since time was too short to be able to get more reinforcements to Cyprus from Moscow, the Resident sent me and Lieutenant Petrova to reinforce and take over command of your team. Unfortunately, that was all the assets he could afford to provide on such short notice. From now on, I will be in charge of this team, and this until the weapons have been delivered to the right persons in Turkey. Essentially, the mission of this team stays the same, but this time we will not accept the arrival on this ship of any more of those ISIS bastards: Moscow will make that point clear to those who brought the first batch of ISIS fighters aboard in Malta. The rest of this trip should thus be rather uneventful. The only big hurdle left will be to have the weapons go unimpeded through Turkish customs once in Iskenderun. That part will be handled by me and by the Turkish intermediary involved in this deal, who will be waiting for the ship in Iskenderun. We will then continue with the weapons inside Turkey, until they are safely inside Syria. Officially, the sea containers holding the weapons will be containing humanitarian aid destined to refugee camps in Syria. The Turkish intermediary has already arranged for the appropriate paperwork and permits to facilitate the passage of the Syria-Turkey border at the Turkish border point to be crossed. Once in Iskenderun, we will all be traveling in civilian clothes, with only pistols in conceal carry mode and knives on us. Our other weapons and special equipment will be hidden in our kit bags before we get off this ship. Any questions, men?’’
The three Spetsnaz soldiers shook their heads then, to Ponomarev’s satisfaction.
‘’Excellent! The ship is not due to leave port before late tonight. Me and Alexandrina will be staying aboard in the meantime. As for you, I want you to change into civilian clothes and go ashore, unarmed, to play tourists a bit in order to better play your cover identities. Feel free to go to a beach, eat in restaurants and do some shopping, but no alcohol! If I smell alcohol on your breath on your return, there will be consequences for you on return to Russia. Am I understood?’’
On the soldiers nodding soberly, the GRU officer took out a thick envelope that he gave to Fedukin.
‘’This envelope contains cash to be used by you to play tourists, courtesy of the GRU Resident’s special funds. Split it equally between yourselves before going ashore. You may now go change.’’
As the happy Spetsnaz soldiers split the cash money between themselves, Ponomarev and Alexandrina went to drop their big civilian backpacks in the former cabin of Major Koslov. The tall blonde gave an assertive look to her partner and superior as they were emptying their packs.
‘’After what happened with those ISIS bastards, can we really have confidence in that Turkish intermediary? What if he change plans on us without warning?’’
‘’Unfortunately we will have to trust him once in Turkey: he is the only one who knows which contacts to use in the Turkish custom services to facilitate the clearance of the shipment. He also has the information concerning who to contact once inside Syria. The best we can do if he springs a surprise on us will be to contact Moscow at once and await new orders.’’
Petrova made a grimace on hearing that.
‘’Not exactly my idea of a good arrangement. What about any possible opposition to our shipment from other intelligence services? Can we expect the Mossad, or even the Syrian General Security Directorate to meddle with it?’’
‘’The way this mission has been going up to now, we must be ready for anything, Alexandrina. We will have to be extra vigilant and be ready to react to anything.’’
Ponomarev then briefly stopped his unpacking, a disillusioned expression appearing on his face.
‘’To do all this in order to arm those murderous ISIS bastards… I know that we have firm orders and we are going to follow them, but what the hell was Moscow thinking? Collecting information on visiting NATO warships stopping in Cyprus was much more to my liking.’’