Chapter 14

My mission had bee put on hold. I was to focus on bringing Diesel home. Surprisingly, I wasn't angry that my quest to reunite my family and deal with Ivanka had been stalled. I knew what it felt like to loose a family member more than anyone else and I knew how I was prepared to do and to sacrifice anything and everything to get them back. For the first time in almost forever, pity was formed inside me.

I was sent a file later on in the day, briefing me on what the agency knew about Diesel. The file was basically useless. There was no form of helpful information, unless I was planning on putting up missing persons flyers. The agency had their own way of hiding information, even when it was crucial to important missions. How was I supposed to find someone the agency had been looking for for years with his former address, his name, family, and picture. All of a sudden, I was angry. I wanted to tear someone apart, to hurt someone, to channel my anger. I threw the file into the trash and stormed out, formulating a plan in my head. I knew Diesel couldn't possibly be residing nearby, or even if he did, he would have left immediately after he completed his task. The best place to start would be the airport. I started at Regan and made my way to Marshall, but it was at Marshall where I struck gold. I went through the security cameras and records and finally found him. He was on a flight to JFK where he would board a flight to Russia.

I still had about an hour to intercept him at JFK, but I needed to be faster then him, or I would have to make an unplanned trip to Russia. Unfortunately, I ran out of luck sooner than I expected. I was seven minutes late and desperate. I tore down the hall looking half crazed, only to see the flight pulling out of its allocated space. I Picked up my phone and put a call in to my boss. The moment he picked, he answered gate four, three minutes. I sprinted further down cursing under my breath. He knew I wouldn't make it, that's why he already had a ticket ready for me. He was probably going to give me another 'minor assignment' whilst I was there. I was not really surprised that there was an agent working at the check in booth. She handed me my boarding pass and I successfully boarded the plane.

Naturally, I was in first class. The cabin was half full and I had nearly ten hours in the air. About an hour after, we reached cruising altitude, I went to use the bathroom and nearly peed again on my way back. I knew there were people in the cabin, but I didn't know who and I wasn't prepared for it either. I couldn't believe it. Khelanie, Ivanka, and David were seated in the cabin with me. The people I was looking for were right there, but I was defenseless and I wasn't sure I could take them all. I ate my meal in silence when it arrived and didn't get up to use the bathroom again, luckily, my bladder din't betray me. I watched movies all night. They slept, but I didn't dare fall asleep in enemy territory.

Thankfully, I survived the trip and we landed in Moscow with everyone on board alive. I hid my face and waited for them to get off before I did. They were met and escorted into the airport by a private car, but being the only other remaining first class passenger, I was in the shuttle alone. I wandered around in the arrivals hall, waiting for someone to approach me. Ivanka, David and Khelanie left in a small convoy of three black Mercedes-Benz saloon cars. Not long after, I was approached by a man in a chauffeurs uniform. He made eye contact and began making his way in the opposite direction. I followed him to the parking lot where there was a black Mercedes-Benz similar to the ones I had seen Ivanka and her entourage leave in. I paused for a moment, looking for vantage points and potential escape routes. The man spoke. He spoke in a regular New Yorker accent. I relaxed a bit. I sat in the front passenger seat, despite his many nudges for me to sit at the back. We drove for eternity and a lifetime until we came to a stop at the Moscow Mariott grand hotel.

It was breathtaking. I had only been to Russia once or twice before, but on both of those occasions, I was extremely tied up in covert operations, without time to see the country for what it is. He held me firmly by the hand when we got out of the car and walked me over to a particular concierge, whom I suspected was also an agent. He led me to my ambassador suite. Before I could say thank you or offer a tip, he disappeared. My closet was already stocked with clothes which I had to admit were things I would have bought, the minibar was stocked with non-alcoholic drinks (to my dismay), everything was perfect. Habitually, I stuck my hand in my pocket. There was a key in there that I hadn't seen before. I searched the entire room, looking for the mystery door and eventually found the lock, carefully concealed in the wallpaper. I turned the key and and a section of the wall swung open, revealing a large study. The cabinets in the large desk were already filled with the documents I needed to accomplish my mission.

I had to admit, I was impressed. That lasted for a little while, until realized that they had probably planned this a month or weeks before. It was not by any coincidence that I was in Russia, but as usual, I was being told the bare minimum whilst being expected to complete the mission and be the best. Whilst riffling through the documents, I realized that not all of them were meant for me. There were a couple of files concerning my mother's case, but the name of the agent on it wasn't mine. What the hell?. There was another agent also in Russia who was doing my case, and how was it even possible that such a mistake could happen, and why wasn't I told that my case was being re assigned. I threw the documents off the desk and left the study, making sure to re conceal it.

I was lying on the bed, when I received the message that Diesel would be at a party being held by none other than Ivanka Romanov. For half an hour, I wasted my time in the closet, picking out a suit and I say wasted because after I had picked out a navy blue Tom Ford suit, there was a knock on my door. By the time I reached the door, the person had already hung a waiter's uniform on the door and left. I shook my head in disgust. I wasn't to attend as a guest, I was going undercover as a waiter. I fumed. I could see several flaws in the plan. What if I had to serve Khelanie or David. Usually, the workers are unnoticed amongst the rich and affluent, but I had learnt from previous experiences that it took more than just clothing to impersonate a worker. They carried themselves differently, moving swiftly between the crowds and almost invisible. At the end, I realized that there was nothing I could do about it, so finally, I got dressed and awaited further instructions. What a shitty day.

It wasn't until six o'clock that I received a text message, telling me to go to the lobby. The concierge from earlier escorted me to a large van. The faces I met in the van were both familiar and vaguely familiar. They were all agents, but I wasn't sure if they were there for my backup or they were on another mission. Strangely enough, they were all dressed in the same uniform as me. It looked like the two-faced organisation also known at the C.I.A was planning something that I hadn't been briefed about and it could complicate my mission. I held all my questions to myself and sat down quietly enjoying the cool air on my face from the air conditioning vents. The bus ride was for fourty-five minutes, but I could have sworn I was in there for a day at least. Night had fallen and the bright lights from the hall illuminated the street.

The bus came to a stop at the back and the driver called out my name. I was given a Russian P-96 pistol and my comms earpiece. I turned to see if anyone else was following, but it seem I was the only one. I got off the bus and was hit by the icy cold air. If it wasn't for the jacket, my body would be shivering violently. I pulled the jacket tightly around me and proceeded to where several waiters were gathered, receiving their hors d'ouvre platters. I fell in line and tried to make my face as humble as possible. I recognized the face beside me immediately, but his eyes gave me a stern warning not to say or do anything to acknowledge him. It seemed like I had backup after all. I received my platter from a pompous looking manager or supervisor. He stared at me like something stuck under his shoe and waved me off. I fought the urge to punch him in the face, but I bowed my head like the respecting servant I was supposed to be.

The sight washed over me like a wave of water once I entered. There were about a hundred guests, male and female both dressed in sparkling flowing gowns and sharp expensive looking suits. That was where I was meant to be, not serving them, but that was just the way it was. Hopefully things would be over quickly. I followed the lead of the others, walking up and down, stopping occasionally to serve a guest. In a matter of minutes, my plate was cleared and I returned to refill it. I was doing the usual rounds and keeping an eye out for Diesel. I spotted him on conversation with Ivanka and David. I turned on my mic and approached. I bowed my head and raised the plate, offering some of the hors d'ouvres. I stayed there long enough for both David and Diesel to have two each and for Ivanka to have one. They were done and I had to leave but thankfully, Khelanie wanted one.

She stepped out from behind her mother in a graceful movement. My breath caught in my throat. She wore a beautiful gold dress with matching jewelry. My words couldn't describe anything more. She took long enough for Ivanka and Diesel to finish their conversation. I turned and left immediately, still serving the hors d'ouvres. It was left with one. I bent over to serve it and another waiter slipped in between me and the guest. I took a second too long for me to realize what happened.