S.A.I.N.T. and Sinner Part 5

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SugarBlossom

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Edited By SugarBlossom

The drive into Kabul was long and arduous.   They weren’t going far, only about the distance between Boston and New york City, but where that would take four hours of driving this took almost a full fourteen, between shoddy roads and long waits at road blocks.   Scott did all the driving as it was customary for a man in this country to do.   The two made small talk from time to time but because of the noise from the car and the road conversation was usually not practical anyway.   Amy spent most of the time either sleeping or reading.   Scott had given her a beaten up copy of Lord of the Flies which he had with him.   He said he had found it in a collection of books at their safehouse.   She didn’t care, even though she wasn’t particularly interested in the story, it was at least something to break the monotony of the bleak terrain.

            She made relatively fast work of the novel, and interspersed the journey with sleep.   When she woke up from her second nap, she could see that they were approaching the outskirts of Kabul.   She had also drooled all over her clothes, not very superspy like of her she thought.   At least as they got to the more modern city she didn’t have to worry as much about being fully covered at all times.   By the time they got to the embassy it was late evening.   Showing her passport got her immediate entry.   Scott was a little hesitant to go in, but Amy assured him it would be all right.   He wouldn’t be re-arrested here.   In most parts of the world it was not very common for a plainclothes person to walk into an embassy and ask to see the military attaché but here it was an almost daily occurrence.   

            Amy didn’t have to wait long, she was soon greeted by the man she needed to talk to. “Major Tom Reston, and you are?” he said as he walked in to meet her.  

            “Amy Dover,” she replied, “I need a secure line to this number right now and if you could get someone to get me a laptop …”

            “Of course,” he replied.  

            They were led into a room presumably set up for this exact type of issue.   Despite just walking in, this was a common enough experience, that the military attaché didn’t ask any more questions of them.  

            He came back in indicating that her line was available from the phone on the desk.   She put it on speaker phone.  

            “Hello,” Amy said.

            “Amy its ,” the familiar voice on the opposite end of the phone answered, “can you authenticate?”

            They had devised a pretty simple code for authentication purposes.   It was based on colours, numbers and letters on their watches, which to someone who didn’t know how it worked, would just think it was a different coloured watch. “8-2-Blue-Alpha-November-Red.”

            “Authenticated,” replied, “What are you doing in Kabul?”

            “More on that later,” Amy replied, “I need you to track a name for me, Dmitri Fedorov.”

            “Hold on,” said.   A silence permeated in the room and on the line for a moment.   “Getting a few hits, it’s a pretty common name,” replied, “cross referencing it against your geographic region.”   Silence again.

            “Your probable is Dmitri Fedorov, ex-Spetnaz, veteran of various campaigns.   Sources in Moscow report that he and one of his superiors have been missing since last week.   His superior’s name is … Yuri Petrov,” she explained.  

            “What about Petrov?” Amy asked, unnecessarily she could see as she already heard typing.

            “Oh wow!” came the response, “Tough as nails Russian army officer, ex Spetsnaz as well, rumoured to be responsible for the Shali Massacre.”

            “That was him?” Scott exclaimed, before realizing he probably shouldn’t have said anything.   The Shali Massacre had been infamous at least among military circles.   Russian soldiers ordered out of an area had taken it upon themselves to teach the local population a lesson.   Rape and murder soon followed as over two thousand civilians lost their lives.   No one had ever been held responsible for it either.  

            There was another silence on the phone, before said “Amy can you take me off of speaker phone?”

            “It’s all right, ,” Amy replied, “what is it?”

            “Umm, OK,” replied, “voice recognition has a 95.8% match on that voice in the room with you being Scott Sinclair.”

            “Yes,” Amy said, “more on that later as well.”

            “I mean Scott “the Sinner” Sinclair,” replied, “he’s supposed to be dead.”

            “It’s a long story,” Amy replied, “more on that later though.   What about Petrov?”

            “Already running it, just will take a minute,” said, “Are you all right?   What about Kevin?”

            “I am OK, had a couple of surface bullet wounds, Kevin didn’t make it, I will send the coordinates of his grave when I get a chance,” Amy replied.  

            “Its too bad,” replied, “I liked Kevin.”   Her somewhat emotionless reply had been earned by having seen a lot of friends meet the same fate.   “Here is something,” said, “CIA reported an unidentified and suspicious looking man traveling through Kabul International yesterday.   The name on his passport is consistent with one of Petrov’s aliases.”

            “Looks like its Petrov then,” Scott stated.

            “Disappeared after connection in New Dehli,” said, “hold on, running face recognition software on all airports in the area in the last 24 hours.   This could take a minute or two.”

            Amy and Scott could hear typing away at her computer on the other end.   She was running Petrov’s face against literally millions of airplane passengers that were caught on tape on security cameras that the government has access to either directly or through less legal means.   Face recognition usually worked the opposite way, a captured picture running against a databank.   This would take substantially more time on a regular computer, but wasn’t running a regular computer.

            After about three minutes finally spoke again, “I have a 99.3% match at Brunei International airport this morning.   Already booking you a flight.”

            “Hold on,” Amy said looking up at Scott, “we will need two.”

            Scott had his own stash of documents and money, but Amy decided to get both of them new passports while she was here.   Other than taking pictures the whole process was out of their hands.   Amy would have to strip down her kit and have it sent back to headquarters.   She wouldn’t be able to get into a foreign country with weapons.   Scott surrendered his weapons as well.   They made a short shopping trip to provide some proper vacation clothes and then the two soon departed for a nearby hotel, on the embassy’s safe list.   Amy bid Scott good night.   This time he was the tired one and she not.   She sat and reviewed all she knew and then typed up some notes to pass on to via secure means in the morning.   They would have to stop back into the embassy before their flight in the morning anyway to get the passports.   Her notes would get up to speed on everything else she needed.  

            Amy fell sleep when she was done late in the night.   Morning came all too soon, but she could sleep on the airplane.   

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SC

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#1  Edited By SC  Moderator

I really like your attention to detail. Great read.