Next, she was instructed to follow randomly selected targets around the city and compose thick dossiers on their movements, contacts, and activities. She found this tedious and exhausting, and she wore out her shoes. She soon discovered that heels were not the best footwear for long days on the street. The “targets” were not in the least interesting, and following them everywhere was unbearable. The loneliness was oppressive, and there was no one to help her. Her time was no longer her own, and the absence of freedom was worse than anything else.
She was glued to the “targets” like a marionette on strings as she dutifully followed kept an eye on their backs in crowded shopping centers or carefully maintained her distance on deserted streets at night.
She was often tempted to slack off, and once she did become distracted. It happened in the park next to Resurrection Cathedral. A yellow carpet of fallen leaves and dried grass rustled under her feet as she pushed her way through the thin branches of maple and rowan trees. A duck pond lay in the middle of the park, and a weak breeze carried broad maple leaves to its uneven surface. The water reacted with small ripples and then quieted again to reflect the blurred outline of the trees.
When she lifted her eyes from the pond, she could find no trace of her target. Incredulous, she abandoned caution and cast about in all directions for a sign of him. There were people all around, but the one she wanted was nowhere to be seen. She imagined how she could explain her failure to Boris Ivanovich, the disappointment and sorrow with which Nastya would regard her, and she was ashamed. She would die if she were not successful.
It was at this instant that she realized how vitally important all of this was to her. There was nothing on earth other than this single training assignment.
I’ve got to find him. I’ve got to find him. She whispered to herself, still searching in every direction. On the other side of the pond she spotted an islet with a neat, white gazebo that was popular with tourists. A narrow wooden bridge connected it with the shore. Trying act naturally, Olga moved quickly thinking that the gazebo offered an unobstructed view of the area around the pond. She could use the zoom lens of her cellphone. Several people were already on the islet taking photos, and it would be easy to fit in with them.
It wasn’t long before she spotted him sitting on a bench a short distance from the water engaged in a lively conversation with someone. Grinning triumphantly, Olga snapped some photos. She wasn’t under instruction to do so, but photography from such a distance was perfectly secure.
She didn’t let the target out of sight for the rest of the day.
When she prepared her report, she included print-outs of the photos.
“What’s this?” Boris Nikolayevich puffed out his moustache.
“It’s a photo of the person the target met at 17:15 hours in Kharitonovskiy Park. They were together until 17:32 hours, and then the target…”
He interrupted her. “I understand. It’s dangerous to take pictures from near-by when during an operation.”
“I know. That’s why I took the photos from the islet. There were three other people there at the time with cameras, so there was nothing suspicious in my behavior. Besides, the target could not have spotted me from that distance.”
“From the islet…” Boris Ivanovich repeated thoughtfully. “That was bold and opportunistic, of course, but… I gave no permission for you to get that far away from the target. You might have lost him.”
“But I didn’t lose him.” She surprised herself with this retort.
“Humph.” He could not conceal a certain satisfaction. “OK. You got lucky, and I won’t argue, but I want no such independent action in the future. That’s an order. I’m glad that you think for yourself and can be creative. That’s important in our business, but even more important is discipline. Our rules can seem boring and meaningless, but they’ve saved a lot of peoples’ lives. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” She replied, only somewhat chastened. “I understand.”
Nastya observed all of this, and when Boris Ivanovich was gone, she laughed out loud. “Don’t take it to heart. It’s best not to argue with Ivanich. He a vindictive sort, and your success depends on his final assessment. But I could tell he was satisfied. Your results were excellent, and this time you showed initiative and did more than was required.”
“Like the good student who gets all ‘A’s’ and double for good conduct?”
“And people like that are successful, believe me,” Nastya was enthusiastic as she retrieved a bottle of wine from a drawer in the chest. “Let’s drink to your future success. You’ll conquer Washington.”
The next day, Nastya began to instruct her in the use of technology. There were concealed cameras, long-range microphones and video systems, an unending variety of disguised gadgets and communications equipment.
“Is this stuff real?” Olga was entranced.
She no longer cared if she appeared naïve or laughable. Nastya was a friend, or at least Olga treated her like one, and it seemed the feeling was mutual.
She was introduced to the arcane terminology of espionage, coded phrases and ciphers, secret writing and dead drops. After a month she possessed practical, if rudimentary skills in all these areas.
Boris Ivanovich paid them another visit at the apartment. His manner was solemn. “So, Olga Vladimirovna, now we enter the final phase of your training. You will be working with a team. There will be no personal contact ahead of time between team members. You will each be given a code name and instructions to appear at a pre-determined rally point. From there, you’ll use standard tradecraft to surveil a target. You will act as team leader and direct the operation.
“When the surveillance ends, team members will retire in different directions. Standard radios will be used for team communication. At the end of each exercise you will write up a full report that describes everything the team observed. You must be especially alert for any indications that the target is engaged in espionage. You might observe the target making a brush pass or unloading a dead drop. Do you understand?”
Olga nodded. She was certain that in this instance the target would be professionals from the FSB, as would the other “team members.”
Boris Ivanovich continued, “This training has only a single goal. At the end of the month your task will be to predict with absolute certainty where and when the target will appear the following day, and what he will be doing. You will give your report to the other surveillance team members, but only you will have the responsibility for the prediction. You will be entirely responsible for the success or failure of the operation,” he concluded with special emphasis on the words “entirely responsible.”
This was an obvious challenge, and Olga applied herself to it enthusiastically. She’d gotten away with near failure in Kharitonovskiy Park, but that was minor league compared to this. She was to become a faceless figure, a genuine warrior on an invisible front.
She spotted Boris Ivanovich on the street several times during the exercise, and she developed a strong desire to please this strict and tedious man. She had to succeed; there could be no other outcome.
By the time she handed her report to Boris Ivanovich, she had memorized the target’s pattern of behavior and movement, knew his favorite restaurants, when and where he walked his dog, his arrivals and departures from work. Despite her best efforts, she had spotted no sign of suspicious activity, and this worried her.
She waited breathlessly in the safehouse as Boris Ivanovich and Nastya studied her report. Their faces betrayed nothing. Finally, the former displayed a rare, wide smile.