“We’ll need a name for you.” She stared into the distance. “Oleksiy Shwetz. Remember that. It’s an easy one.” She applied the name to the passport as best she could. “It’s not perfect but will do.” She handed it to him.
“What are we going to do? Who are we?” Nathan gave her a sly look over, she was young fair haired and had the attractive high cheekbones many Eastern European women did.
“You are an American of Ukraine descent, but don’t speak the language. I’ve lived in the USA and met you. You’re my boyfriend. It’s easier to travel here with a man. I’m here to meet some resistance people. There’ll be pro-Russian Ukrainians and we may come across some Russians also. If I need your help, I think you’ll know. We need to speak, I need to explain things.”
“Then let’s go to the galley Yana, get some food and talk. Come on,” he indicated the companionway, “go left.” He followed her.
This was a new one. He never imagined he’d be ashore in the Ukraine with an enigmatic girl like Yana, it would help that few men would kick her out of bed. This may not be a bad run ashore.
IT WAS A DARK, STARRY night. A large unusual visitor floating black on the gentle swell of the sea. A few scudding clouds crossed the crescent moon. Nathan and two seamen launched the inflatable boat. The engine started and it headed for shore. The boat pulled up against a pebbled beach.
“Here sir, hide the torch. Zero one hundred hours tonight, and every hour of darkness after that. We’ll be with you.”
“Thanks, Tamingly.”
The boat made its way back to the NYC.
“This is your patch Yana, you lead on.”
They walked into Novoazovs’k; there was no one about, just a few lights and windows with lights behind curtains. She turned into an alleyway just after a car dealership and Nathan hid the torch behind several paint cans. On the street behind was a dark coloured windowless van. When the driver called them, they trotted across, she spoke to the driver and they climbed in. The van pulled away and left town.
Nathan looked out at a few houses and small industrial sheds. The roadside became mainly forest. After three miles or so, they were waved down by a torch. The three men occupied what looked like a roadblock. One of them asked something, or so it seemed to Nathan, in Ukrainian or Russian. He couldn’t speak either. Yana answered, and they left the van. To the right was a rough forest road.
She spoke with the men in what sounded like Russian, for several minutes. One of them, who was wearing a wool hat, started pushing her companion the driver and aggressively shouted something, which the driver responded to. Two men pulled Yana off down the forest road. “Let her go!” Nathan shouted.
The driver shouted back in Russian and set off after her. One of the men pulled a pistol and shot him twice in the chest and the driver fell, rolled and became still. The man with the gun aimed it at Nathan. Yana pushed him as he fired, and his aim was wide. Nathan ran off into the forest, his breathing ragged, adrenaline pumping. He’d never been shot at before. Finally, he turned and saw Yana being dragged down the rough road. Shit, what a goddamn balls up. It must be the Russians; they must have been suspicious. She’d be interrogated or worse. He made his way after her down the rough road, and within a mile there it was; a large cabin, two really, connected together. There were lights on. That was it, that’s where she’d be.
Damn it. He’d been sent here to escort and help her, and she’d been captured after a few miles. He didn’t know how, but he’d have to try to get her out.
“Nathan, you’re one mother of an idiot.”
“YOU’RE LUCKY GOREVOY is nearby, he’s on his way, Ukrainian bitch. Then we’ll find out what you’re up to.”
She was tied to a chair. He slapped her again.
“Gryaznaya Ukranovskaya suka.” Dirty Ukrainian bitch.
She was slapped and questioned repeatedly. Fifteen minutes later, there came the sound of a car drawing up outside. A man walked into the cabin; he stood flanked by two men. His expression was stern.
“What are you here for, suka?”
“I’m here to speak to a man of importance.”
“And who might that be?”
“Ustyugov.”
The man laughed. “He doesn’t talk to shit like you. What are you here for?”
“To talk to Usty…” Gorevoy slapped her again. It went on for ten minutes.
“Tell me what you’re here for, suka.”
“To talk to Usty…” He slapped her, then pulled up her shirt and ripped off her bra.
“Tell me or I let them play with you.”
She sat there sullen and ignored him.
“I’ve seen you on American TV. You’re a fucking traitor. You hate us. You hate Mother Russia.” Gorevoy looked to the two men. “Play with them.”
The two men rubbed her boobs and then sucked them. She pulled a sour face.
“That’s enough now.”
They stood away from her.
“Tell me or next time I’ll let them play with that thing.” He pointed between her legs.
“I want to speak with Ust…”
The man sighed. “Pull her jeans off.” They undid the button and started to pull them down. They were soon off, and her panties were next, they were tossed onto her jeans.
“Not bad,” said Gorevoy. “Not bad for a traitor suka.”
He turned to one of his men. “Is she worth it? Her body isn’t bad is it?” The man nodded.
“Then help yourselves, men. Her pussy is yours. Traitors deserve rape. She looks like she’s asking for it. Do with her what you will.”
Yana knew she’d failed. It had been for nothing. She closed her eyes and shook her head. No, please no.
Chapter 6
GOREVOY WATCHED AS the first man lifted her legs onto his shoulders and started to unfasten his belt. He wondered if his leader had other ideas for her? Maybe he wanted her for himself?
“Wait. Stop.”
He took out his cell phone and dialled.
“Sir, I caught the Ukrainian bitch from American TV.” Gorevoy nodded. “Yes Sir. Yana Borisova. I didn’t ask her, she wants to speak to you.”
“Here bitch. Speak to him.”
She took the phone.
“What do you want, Yana?” said Ustyugov.
She’d use the password.
“I have an invite to Boris’s birthday.”
Ustyugov started. “And when is his birthday?”
“On the third of March.”
Ustyugov raised his eyebrows. “At what time? And what place?” he asked.
She slowly replied, “The time of the Owl. The cave of green.”
“It’s food?”
“A bridge to France.”
He was amazed she knew the codes. “What do you want?”
“First I want these shits to cover my tits over and pull my pants back up.” She passed the man the phone; he told the two men to cover her and then passed the phone back to her.
“Now what, Yana?”
“You thought I was a traitor, I think you now know I’m not.”
“I agree. We thought you were. But your broadcasts; they were anti-Russian.” He closed his eyes. He was speaking to the traitor, to the bitch. It was difficult to believe that she may not be what she seemed. “Why, Yana? Why did you do that?”
“I lived amongst them, criticized and cursed Russia in order to gain their trust. I hated what I said, but it was a deceit. The Americans needed to think I was on their side. I needed to gain their trust. It’s taken longer than you know, but I now have that trust. I know what they plan for Mother Russia; I know all of it. The CIA has sent me on a mission to contact the Ukrainian resistance, as they call it.”
Ustyugov scowled. “Our people, once they caught you, they planned punishment for a traitor’s resistance.”