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"No Mafia," Sasha answered.

"No guards on door."

I pointed at the plan.

"How wide is this gap between the buildings?"

Ivan gave an off-hand shrug and said, "I don't know."

"It's important."

"Maybe ten metres."

"No more?"

"Nyet."

"That's OK, isn't it?" I asked Whinger.

"Forty feet?"

"Piece of cake."

I felt my adrenalin levels rising rapidly, and, almost before I knew what I was doing, I was outlining a complete new action plan.

"Call them Block A and Block B," I began.

"Block A to the west, B just east of it. Keet's on the twelfth floor of Block A, facing west, right? We maintain surveillance on that block, as you're doing already, but to avoid arousing suspicion we keep well away from the entrance. Instead of a direct approach, two assault teams go up to the roof of Block B and ladder across to the roof of Block A. There we split. One party makes its way down the emergency stairs and comes out on the twelfth-floor corridor. The other abseils down the outside of the building.

When both parties are in position, we blow the internal door and the windows simultaneously, come in from both sides with stun grenades, and overpower everybody inside."

As Anna translated, I saw Ivan following my scenario with ever-growing incredulity.

"All this is possible?" he asked.

"Of course," I replied confidently but even as I did so I suddenly realised what I'd done. Carried away by my own excitement I'd been saying 'we' when I should have been saying 'you'.

Ivan was under fire from Wolf-face, but he shut him up again with an irritated wave, and showed that he hadn't missed the implication of my words with his next question: "So, you will lead the assault?"

"No, no. We can't. We're not authorised for anything like that. We're here purely on a training mission.

Ivan's dismay was painful to witness.

"Starshina," he pleaded, "Sergeant Major we very much need your help. We do not have your experience in assaults of this kind."

I looked at Whinger and saw that he was thinking the same as I was. If we did our hosts a good turn, it would ease our consciences. Besides, it would be a great gas to take part in an anti-Mafia hit. The idea was outrageous, of course the Regiment would never sanction it. But would the Regiment ever know about it? Not until afterwards, if at all provided we didn't say anything.

I looked at Whinger and said quietly, "What d'you reckon?"

"All right by me."

I turned back to Ivan and said, "Yestj. We'll help as much as we can. At least we can show you what to do."

This led to knuckle-crunching handshakes and big grins all round.

But my decision shifted the initiative to myself and Whinger and thereafter we had to make the running.

I'm bound to say that the Omon leaders pulled their fingers out: whatever we asked for they got, and fast.

The first things we needed were architectural plans of both apartment blocks. It looked as though the pair would be essentially the same, but we wanted to be sure. In particular, we needed to know the internal layout of the flat we were going to hit the disposition of its rooms, and details like which way the doors opened. As the buildings were only three years old it should have been easy to find drawings, but when somebody phoned the construction firm who'd put the flats up the people there began making difficulties, claiming that their computers were down, and that without them they couldn't produce plans. I heard a good bollocking go down the line, and that seemed to produce results.

"Half an hour," was the eventual answer.

"In that case," I said, 'let's do a drive-past. We need to get a look at the blocks. Somebody bring a video camera.

"Better not go dressed like this." Whinger pointed at his DPMs.

"Good point, Whinge."

A quartermaster figure produced sets of thin grey overalls which smelt of mothballs, and soon we were rolling northwards in two cars: my seW Ivan (who had a camera), Anna and the driver in one, Whinger, Sasha and the Wolf-man in the second.

"Tell him we don't want to get too close," I warned Anna.

"What d'you call too close?"

"Nothing under a couple of hundred metres, anyway.

By now it was fully light, and rush-hour traffic was pouring down the main arteries into the city centre. Heading outwards, we could move freely, and it was only five minutes or so before Ivan said something, pointing ahead and to the right.

"Those are the buildings," Anna translated.

"The target's in the left-hand one, as we're looking."

Two slender blocks rose out of a wasteland. They were made of pale-grey concrete, relieved by small square panels of sky blue ranged along the balcony-fronts on each of the sixteen floors. At ground level the entrances were imposing: on the end of each building was a grandiose porch with square pillars, under which cars could drive, and marble facings round the doors. Either side of the doorway into what we'd named Block A stood a guard in grey fatigues armed with a sub-machine gun.

Round the base of the buildings some attempt had been made to establish a garden or park: there were patches of grass and a few saplings had been planted, but further out much of the area was still bare earth, no doubt awaiting development. On the approach road leading to Block A numerous cars were parked end-on at forty-five degrees to the kerb, including a high proportion of Mercedes, BMWs and Audis.

The road to Block B came in from the far side and had far less transport sitting on it.

I glanced at Ivan and saw that he was already filming.

"Ask him to get close-up footage of the roof-line," I said and in response to Anna's request he tilted the camera upwards.

"Just to confirm," I said.

"The target's in this near block."

"Correct."

"And the apartment's facing this way?"

"Correct again."

"In fact we can see the windows now."

"Yes. The fifth floor down from the top."

I was looking for sniper vantage points, and immediately saw one: a third high-rise block of the same model, but with green panels rather than blue, maybe 200 metres away on our left.

"Can we drive back down the far side of Block B over there, behind it?"

"Not very well." Anna pointed.

"You see that long wall?

Behind that's a railway line and marshalling yards. There's no road in that area."

"What about those roofs just over the wall?"

"Those are railway offices."

"OK."

A kilo metre or so beyond the site we made a U-turn and came back for a second pass. Again I concentrated, fixing details in my mind. The run confirmed my earlier impression that a direct daylight approach from ground level would have been disastrous: there was no cover close to Block A's entrance, and a gun-battle would have led to many casualties.

Back in the Omon briefing room we found architectural drawings of Blocks A and B awaiting us. As Whinger and I went into a huddle over them, mugs of sweet black tea beside us, we had no difficulty coming up with a plan.

"When we were ready, I signalled to Ivan, and we began an informal presentation.

"I don't know if they want to make notes," I said to Anna, 'but maybe you'd suggest it."

Wolf-face let fly a few more disparaging remarks, but the others ignored him, and Ivan produced a notebook and pencil.

"Right," I said.

"First thing, the assault should go down at night, after last light. If the Mafia meeting's due to start at 2100, I suggest 2130."

I had to take it slowly, phrase by phrase, letting Anna translate in between. For a few exchanges the delays irritated me: then I realised that they were useful, as they gave everyone time to take in what I was saying.

"Next, there will be three assault parties, designated Red, Blue and Black. Red and Blue will enter Block B and cross on to the roof of Block A by ladder, as outlined. Red will deploy on the roof of Block A and prepare to abseil down the outside of the building. Blue will enter the building via the fire exit on the roof here then descend the fire stairs and position themselves to assault the apartment from the corridor.