Echojulia
12-02-2005, 09:16 PM
March 19, 2005.
Moscow, Castle Project Operation 282708.
Target: Aleksandr Mikhailov
Charolette Eden handed her leather jacket to the doorman at the club entrance. She smiled at him as he handed her ticket to her. "Thank you, sugar," she drawled. He raised his eyebrow and shook his head. "Don't speak English?" she asked, emphasizing the American southern accent she had chosen for her alias. "That's ok, honey. I don't speak Russian." The employee shrugged his shoulders and turned to take the next person's coat.
The hallway leading into the rest of the club was crowded. Music drowned out most of the conversations as Charolette weaved her way through the people. She flashed a grin at a group of young men standing near the rear of the corridor. They laughed and one made a lewd suggestion about her anatomy. She waved at them and continued into the main dance room.
She walked down a flight of stairs, her eyes scanning the floor and the tables surrounding it. Charolette spotted her target sitting near the back of the room. Aleksandr Mikhailov. Standing around him were five men, all dressed in black. All carrying pistols under their suit jackets. She began to walk toward him, making sure to stare and smile at the men she passed.
A server stopped her at the edge of the dance floor. "Do you need something?" he asked in Russian. Charolette raised her hands and laughed. The young man rolled his eyes and repeated his question in English.
"No, darling. I'm just fine," she said. Charolette nodded her head at him She suppressed another laugh as she watched him walk away. The server's name was David Anderson. He was an American and a fellow employee of the Castle Project. He had been quite annoyed when he had been assigned to serve as the supporting agent for this operation. His Russian is getting better though, Charolette thought.
She sighed and continued toward her target. The Russian man sat alone at the table, his gaze on the dance floor. Charolette knew he was waiting for someone. Mikhailov had arranged a meeting with a small arms dealer earlier in the week to discuss a possible sale. The contact would never show up. Two other Castle employees had kidnapped him an hour ago on his way from his hotel.
Charolette walked past Aleksandr's table and smiled at him, slightly lowering her chin. Her tight black pants and revealing shirt had the desired effect and he looked from the dance floor to her. She held eye contact for a few more seconds and then glanced away. Biting her lower lip, she manuevered her way to an empty table close to his. She sat down and smoothed her hands over her slacks. Charolette lifted her eyes and found Aleksandr watching her. She smiled again and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
The Russian waved to one of his guards. The man leaned down to listen to Aleksandr speak. He turned to look at Charolette and nodded. She fidgeted in her seat, holding her lip between her teeth. The guard walked over to her and crouched down next to her. "Would you like to join my friend at his table?" he asked in Russian.
Charolette shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't speak..." she began.
The guard frowned and asked her again in English. She smiled brightly and looked up at Aleksandr. "Why I'd love to, sugar." Charolette stood from her chair and walked over to him. He stood and offered her a seat.
"Thank you!" she exclaimed and sat down.
"My pleasure," he replied and smiled at her her. "You may call me Alek, and I"m glad you agreed to sit with me." Charolette laughed softly and ran a hand over her hair. She knew his English was flawless, but widened her eyes slightly.
"You speak English so well!" she said, placing her fingers under her throat. "And my name is Katie."
"Da, I learned when I was young," he explained. His eyes roamed over her figure. "Where are you from, Katie?"
"I'm an American," Charolette answered. Aleksandr laughed and nodded his head. She smiled. "Is it that obvious?" she asked, blushing. "I'm from Georgia in the South."
"Ah yes," he said. "I have heard of it. What brings you to Moscow?"
Charolette wrinkled her nose. "My momma and her husband dragged me on their vacation. I've been bored nearly to death in every museum between here and Paris. I snuck out of our hotel tonight," she told him and leaned in closer. "I just had to have some fun."
Aleksandr lifted his lips in a half-smile. "Well, then I will see what I can do to help you with your boredom," he returned and called to one of his guards. He spoke rapidly in Russian and pointed vaguely to the front of the club. Charolette watched the exchange, her eyes focused on Mikhailov. "I have sent my friend to get us some drinks," he informed her as the man hurried off.
Yes, and after he does that, you sent him to go wait out front for your weapons dealer. Charolette clasped her hands together. "I just love the way Russian sounds! It's so pretty," she replied. "I wish I could speak it. I had French in high school, but I confess I don't remember a word of it!"
"You should study here some day then," Aleksandr told her. Charolette nodded and smiled at him. She glanced back over her shoulder to see David making his way to their table. On the tray he carried were two vodka martinis. He placed one in front of Charolette and the other in front of Alexsandr. She smiled and took a sip, watching her target do the same.
She smiled brightly at Mikhailov. "Tell me about those big buildings with the onion looking tops on them. They were so unusual!" Alright I've got about an hour before the Diazepam makes him sloppy enough to invite me back to his place...surely I can get a man to talk about himself for an hour....
Moscow, Castle Project Operation 282708.
Target: Aleksandr Mikhailov
Charolette Eden handed her leather jacket to the doorman at the club entrance. She smiled at him as he handed her ticket to her. "Thank you, sugar," she drawled. He raised his eyebrow and shook his head. "Don't speak English?" she asked, emphasizing the American southern accent she had chosen for her alias. "That's ok, honey. I don't speak Russian." The employee shrugged his shoulders and turned to take the next person's coat.
The hallway leading into the rest of the club was crowded. Music drowned out most of the conversations as Charolette weaved her way through the people. She flashed a grin at a group of young men standing near the rear of the corridor. They laughed and one made a lewd suggestion about her anatomy. She waved at them and continued into the main dance room.
She walked down a flight of stairs, her eyes scanning the floor and the tables surrounding it. Charolette spotted her target sitting near the back of the room. Aleksandr Mikhailov. Standing around him were five men, all dressed in black. All carrying pistols under their suit jackets. She began to walk toward him, making sure to stare and smile at the men she passed.
A server stopped her at the edge of the dance floor. "Do you need something?" he asked in Russian. Charolette raised her hands and laughed. The young man rolled his eyes and repeated his question in English.
"No, darling. I'm just fine," she said. Charolette nodded her head at him She suppressed another laugh as she watched him walk away. The server's name was David Anderson. He was an American and a fellow employee of the Castle Project. He had been quite annoyed when he had been assigned to serve as the supporting agent for this operation. His Russian is getting better though, Charolette thought.
She sighed and continued toward her target. The Russian man sat alone at the table, his gaze on the dance floor. Charolette knew he was waiting for someone. Mikhailov had arranged a meeting with a small arms dealer earlier in the week to discuss a possible sale. The contact would never show up. Two other Castle employees had kidnapped him an hour ago on his way from his hotel.
Charolette walked past Aleksandr's table and smiled at him, slightly lowering her chin. Her tight black pants and revealing shirt had the desired effect and he looked from the dance floor to her. She held eye contact for a few more seconds and then glanced away. Biting her lower lip, she manuevered her way to an empty table close to his. She sat down and smoothed her hands over her slacks. Charolette lifted her eyes and found Aleksandr watching her. She smiled again and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
The Russian waved to one of his guards. The man leaned down to listen to Aleksandr speak. He turned to look at Charolette and nodded. She fidgeted in her seat, holding her lip between her teeth. The guard walked over to her and crouched down next to her. "Would you like to join my friend at his table?" he asked in Russian.
Charolette shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't speak..." she began.
The guard frowned and asked her again in English. She smiled brightly and looked up at Aleksandr. "Why I'd love to, sugar." Charolette stood from her chair and walked over to him. He stood and offered her a seat.
"Thank you!" she exclaimed and sat down.
"My pleasure," he replied and smiled at her her. "You may call me Alek, and I"m glad you agreed to sit with me." Charolette laughed softly and ran a hand over her hair. She knew his English was flawless, but widened her eyes slightly.
"You speak English so well!" she said, placing her fingers under her throat. "And my name is Katie."
"Da, I learned when I was young," he explained. His eyes roamed over her figure. "Where are you from, Katie?"
"I'm an American," Charolette answered. Aleksandr laughed and nodded his head. She smiled. "Is it that obvious?" she asked, blushing. "I'm from Georgia in the South."
"Ah yes," he said. "I have heard of it. What brings you to Moscow?"
Charolette wrinkled her nose. "My momma and her husband dragged me on their vacation. I've been bored nearly to death in every museum between here and Paris. I snuck out of our hotel tonight," she told him and leaned in closer. "I just had to have some fun."
Aleksandr lifted his lips in a half-smile. "Well, then I will see what I can do to help you with your boredom," he returned and called to one of his guards. He spoke rapidly in Russian and pointed vaguely to the front of the club. Charolette watched the exchange, her eyes focused on Mikhailov. "I have sent my friend to get us some drinks," he informed her as the man hurried off.
Yes, and after he does that, you sent him to go wait out front for your weapons dealer. Charolette clasped her hands together. "I just love the way Russian sounds! It's so pretty," she replied. "I wish I could speak it. I had French in high school, but I confess I don't remember a word of it!"
"You should study here some day then," Aleksandr told her. Charolette nodded and smiled at him. She glanced back over her shoulder to see David making his way to their table. On the tray he carried were two vodka martinis. He placed one in front of Charolette and the other in front of Alexsandr. She smiled and took a sip, watching her target do the same.
She smiled brightly at Mikhailov. "Tell me about those big buildings with the onion looking tops on them. They were so unusual!" Alright I've got about an hour before the Diazepam makes him sloppy enough to invite me back to his place...surely I can get a man to talk about himself for an hour....