Alex Shaw - Hetman - Donetsk Calling

“Suit up.” Blazhevich commanded.

Blazhevich and Snow changed into digital camo overalls and all three men put on ballistic vests. Snow fastened a couple of stun grenades into his webbing and checked the Glock 22 he had retrieved from the tactical package.

Blazhevich took Snow to one side. “You do know that you are not actually officially here?”

“Yes and thank you.” He respected the risk Blazhevich had taken in including him in the assault.

“Let’s rock.”

Snow supressed a laugh, Blazhevich had been watching too many Hollywood movies.

Silently they worked their way into the treeline as the late afternoon sun started to fade. Roman collected Victor and they skirted the target until they were concealed in the shadows opposite the front of the building caused by a half built house.

Blazhevich spoke to them via his throat mic once he and Snow were at the rear. “In position. Counting down. Three… Two… One… Go… Go… Go!”

As one Snow and Blazhevich hurled flash-bangs at the windows. Both men covered their ears and closed the eyes. The stun grenades shattered the glass and sailed inside before exploding with a deafening roar and a disorientating flash of white light. Milliseconds Snow and Blazhevich climbed through the shattered glass, weapons up in a tactical stance. A woman, naked from the waist up screamed and moved away from a man who caught like a rabbit in head-lights sat frozen on a sofa, with an erection protruding like a weapon from his pants. Snow pistol-whipped him to the floor and moved further into the house. A doorway led to a narrow hallway and a two more doors. Blazhevich and Snow took a door each. Blazhevich’s room was empty but Snow’s contained the target. In the middle of the room Kopylenko sat, bound to a wooden chair.

“You?”

Captain Budt charged at Snow but the SIS operative was too fast. As Budt swung his fist Snow stepped outside the punch and simultaneously pushed down the arm with his own left forearm as he struck Budt’s jaw with his hand still holding the Glock. Budt dropped, but Snow kicked him in the stomach for good measure. Snow searched the room in wide arcs and acquired a second target, another uniformed officer. The man instantly raised his arms. Snow took one step forward and kicked him in the groin then as he doubled up struck him on the back of the head with his Glock.

“Clear.” Snow shouted as he stood and stared at Kopylenko.

“W…why?” The face of the Militia officer from Donetsk registered incomprehension.

Snow crouched in front of him. “You are Ana’s father. Regardless of what I personally think about you I am not going to let a little girl I love, lose a parent.”

“Th… thank you.”

“Thank me and thank Brian.”

Volodymyrska Street, Kyiv

Blazhevich shook Vickers’ hand as the Diplomat let him into the flat. Both men moved to the lounge where Snow was sitting with a cup of coffee watching an infomercial for a vibrating foot massager.

“I see you are reacquainting yourself with Ukrainian television Aidan?

Snow smiled. “This is one of those channels that Alistair pays extra for.”

“I do not.” Vickers folded his arms.

Blazhevich smirked. “So I’ve come to give you an update.”

Vickers grabbed the TV remote and switched the machine off. “Have a seat.”

Blazhevich took an arm chair whilst Snow made room for his host. It was eleven a.m. Monday morning and Snow had spent the night at Vickers flat, giving Brian and Katya space to ‘catch up’.

“Of the six men that we have in custody four have thus far provided us with intelligence regarding the ‘activities’ of Deputy Imyets.”

“Do you have enough to bring formal charges?” Vickers asked.

“That is not an easy question to answer. We have the testimony of men who claim to take orders from Imyets but they are serving members of the Militia. I have agents looking into their claims and until we find anything concrete it is still their word against his.”

“What about Kopylenko?” Snow asked.

“He acted under his own authority when he abducted Brian and held you.”

“But Imyets ordered us done away with.”

“True, but again it is his word and the word of those present against yours. In ‘the west’ perhaps things are easier and the rule of law prevails but I am afraid that in Ukraine ‘Krisha’ is everything. Imyets is protected by the President who in turn ‘owns’ the prosecutor’s office. So unless we have a smoking gun and someone who will testify that they saw Imyets pull the trigger we are ‘pissing into the wind’.”

“And of course Vitaly if you share these same thoughts with the wrong people you may yourself be arrested for ‘slandering the President’.”

“You are right Alistair; our new laws get sillier and sillier every day.”

“So what is to be done?” Snow now asked.

“The prisoners we have will be prosecuted on corruption charges unless they can come up with verifiable evidence against Imyets. The investigation will continue however I am sure Imyets will wash his hands of those men we have.”

“What about Varchenko?”

Blazhevich let out a sigh. “Dudka has made it clear that the SBU is to not investigate or put any surveillance on Varchenko. This again makes me wonder what the General is doing with Imyets.” Secretly Blazhevich also wondered if Dudka was holding back information from him but this was not something he wished to discuss with anyone.

“Vitaly, I’m sorry if I messed up your investigation.”

“Aidan, you didn’t mess it up. Shook it up perhaps, and perhaps we shall see if anything falls. So now that you have saved Webb what next?”

“Drinks.”

Podil district, Kyiv

The small tented bar in Kyiv’s Podil district was a favourite of Michael Jones. He let out a trail of smoke from his cigarette as he lazily stared at the cleavage of their waitress. “Great place, eh Aidan? Great place.”

“Yep.” Snow drank hungrily from his half litre beer glass. It was his first of the day and he had some catching up to do.

Jones’ eyes followed the woman as she returned to the bar. “What more could you ask for? Great beer, great tits.”

“Michael.” Katya wagged her finger at the Welshman. “What would Ina say?”

“Oh, she would agree. She also likes tits.”

Snow snorted into his beer. He had been away yet nothing had changed. His friends were still the same, and even though many bars had been renamed Kyiv was still Kyiv.

Webb raised his glass. “I would just like to say a toast to friendship, for without it we are all truly fucked!”

Katya nudged him in the belly. Snow and Michael both raised their glasses. “Fucked”

“Your friend Vitaly spoke to me today.” Webb stated matter of fact. “He says that Kopylenko is now being very co-operative and wants to grant us permission to take Ana to the UK.”

“That’s good news.”

“True but in return he wants me not to give evidence against him.”

Snow raised his eyebrows. “So what are you going to do Brian?”

“He is going to give evidence and then when they put that idiot away a judge will of course let us take Ana to England.” Katya crossed her arms.

Webb sipped his beer before winking at Snow. “That is what I am of course going to do.”

Snow felt his Blackberry vibrate. It was a message from Patchem. He’d have to fly home in the morning but tonight he was home. Snow switched off his phone and ordered another round of drinks.

‘He won’t be stopped now. The book will become popular among Kyiv’s expats; some of them will even recognize themselves.’ Kyiv Poston ‘ Hetman’.