How I Met Your Mother Ch. 09

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Ghosts of East Berlin.
13.6k words
4.7
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Part 8 of the 8 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 09/28/2009
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How I Met Your Mother: Ghosts of East Berlin

Couderay

Wisconsin

2010

"That will be fifteen sixty-four please." The cheery tone of the cashier contrasted her surroundings. Illuminated by poor strip lighting with the occasional flicker thrown in for good measure, the convenience store was more akin to something out of a 1970s horror movie or a gulag.

Hmm, he thought as he handed her a crumpled twenty-dollar note, funny I should think about the gulags again. The young girl -- no more than about eighteen years old he estimated -- smiled as she handed him his change as he picked up the brown paper bag containing Vodka, potatoes, eggs and several slabs of dubious-looking frozen meat.

"Thanks." His gruff response to her failed to hide any trace of his distinctive East European accent that was clearly at odds with the name on his driver's license being that of one John Bettany of Grand Rapids, Michigan. Paying little attention to anyone else in the store as he shuffled out of it, bracing himself for the sudden wall of cold air he encountered as he left the seven/eleven.

Trudging through the thick covering of snow that had fallen in the twenty minutes he had been inside the store, he fumbled for the keys to the battered old car that sat in the furthest corner of the car park. Cursing the decision to park his car there, he muttered under his breath as he reached it; opening the boot to deposit his supplies inside he paused for the briefest moment, certain that he had heard something behind him.

He looked over his right shoulder, expecting to find that his aging ears had played a trick on him again. In the dim evening light he was certain that his eyes were deceiving him as he made out a shadowy figure advancing towards him, closing the few feet left between them in a few moments. It was only at the point when something hard, heavy and metallic struck him across the face that he realised it was no illusion of his fractured psyche that was assaulting him.

Somehow he managed to remain on his feet until a second blow -- this time across the back of his skull -- knocked him to the floor. The sound of eggs breaking beneath him as he hit the floor filled his ears. As the last vestiges of consciousness slipped away, he was vaguely aware of someone man-handling him into the boot of his own car and slamming it forcefully shut. The inky darkness within the musty smelling storage space mirrored his condition as blackness overtook him.

****

Slowly he felt himself regaining consciousness again. He lifted his head slightly, finding each movement laced with pain from the blows he had received earlier. Unsure of who had actually attacked him, he became acutely aware that he was bound to a chair and gagged, effectively silencing any chance he had to call for help.

It took his one uninjured eye a moment to adjust to the light in the room before he recognised where he was. He was in his own home, sitting in the middle of the living room. Trying to turn his head as best as he could he finally managed to pick out a figure standing at the window, casually looking out at the winter's night that was closing in around them.

Lena

He recognised her immediately and felt his stomach knot in fear. The realisation of who she was and -- in all likelihood -- what she was here to do hit him harder than either of the two hammer blows he's sustained earlier.

"Such a cold night out tonight. I had no idea that anywhere in America got this cold. I always thought this was the land of eternal summers or something to that effect. But this? This almost reminds me of a St. Petersburg winter, so bitterly cold. A pity we don't have the comfortable heat of a roaring fireplace to warm us, yes?" she thought out loud, still continuing to look out the window. "Speaking of which..."

Turning away from the window and allowing the curtain to fall back across the opening, Lena turned to face her host finally, taking a cigarette from the packet in her hand and sweeping back her long dark red hair, then placing it behind her right ear. She paused for a moment before she continued.

"You're a difficult man to find Mr...Bettany," Lena said as she looked at the small plastic identification card she had plucked from his wallet whilst he was unconscious. "You know, tracking you down has helped me to reach an epiphany in my life; I'm simply too old for all this running around the globe. I'm approaching one of the true milestones of age and it's about time I put my feet up. However, I do have a few loose ends that I need to tie up before I can truly start planning my retirement from active life and handing over the reigns to my more youthful protégés -- I think I've earned it by now, don't you? After all the hard work I've put into things..." Lena squinted slightly at the picture on the credit card sized laminate in her hands. "You know, the picture doesn't really do you justice you know -- you're much more handsome in real life Piotr." She used his real name for the first time. It sounded alien to him -- a relic of a life he thought he'd left behind in the past.

"Have you any idea how much you've hurt me Piotr? After all the time we spent in the academy and in training, our time in the VDV together, Afghanistan, Europe and you turned on me without a second thought? I couldn't believe it; I refused to in fact for a long time, until I learned the truth." She turned away from him and started to pace the living room floor. "So now that leaves us with the question of what to do next. After careful thought, I believe I need to make...a 'statement' of sorts to those who work for me. Something to discourage my...associates and business partners from contemplating a similar course of action. What do you think of that, Piotr?" When Lena heard no reply, she stopped pacing and turned to face her friend.

"Ah, silly me. Here, let me help you." She moved over to kneel beside him and removed the gag from his mouth as he struggled in vain to escape the tight industrial ropes that tied him to the chair securely. "There we go...much better, da?" Piotr gasped for air greedily as soon as the gag was taken away, and turned to look at her, fear evident in his one open and uninjured eye.

"Please, Lena...you don't have to do this...after everything we've been through..." he said shakily after spitting blood caused by the various injuries she had inflicted. "Let me go. We've been friends for years!" Lena paused for a moment, and then shook her head.

"I truly wish it didn't have to be this way, but you really left me no other choice, old friend. You know how much my business -- our business -- needs to be conducted in the shadows, away from the prying eyes of the outside world. Well, now...I guess we should go ahead and get this over with."

"I'm begging you...no!" With a sad smile on her face, Lena stood up and left the screaming man, going to the cosy little kitchen in the back of the house. She admired the simple yet efficient design of the kitchen, taking notes of some of the design ideas and thinking of using them in her own little dream home. Returning to the living room, she stood before Piotr and surveyed his state.

"Piotr, Piotr...stop this pitiful display!" she lightly chided him, moving to the coffee table and picking up the full gas can she had brought with her, then walking back over to him. "What would our instructors say if they saw you now, blubbering like a scared old woman? Show the bravery of a true son of Russia! At least endure this with a little dignity, da?" The expression on his face as he saw the gas canister made Lena chuckle slightly. "Oh, so you think this is how I'm going to kill you? That I would burn down this little slice of suburban heaven and run the risk that you might survive somehow?" She mused. "No, no, that would never do." Lena added as she reached into her jacket and pulled out a compact looking pistol. "This is how I intend to kill you."

Blam! Blam! Blam!

The bullets struck Piotr in the chest, the force of the sudden successive impacts knocking him backwards and onto the floor. Lena stood over him, watching the life fade from his eyes. Once she was certain that he was dead she set about dousing the room with gasoline. Pausing to ensure she had soaked everything thoroughly, she moved back to the front door, carefully leaving a trail of liquid in her wake. Opening it and discarding the near-empty can inside the hallway, she stopped to light the cigarette she had stored earlier behind her ear.

Taking several quick drags from it Lena stepped out of the house and tossed the cigarette back into the open doorway. Just as she anticipated the fuel she had liberally applied quickly caught hold, accompanied by a soft whoosh sound as the canister provided a small explosive accompaniment to the rapidly increasing inferno. She watched from the sidewalk as the flames lapped around the building, studiously observing her handiwork until the sounds of terrified local residents met her ears. Taking this as her cue to leave, Lena melted away into the night, satisfied that her business here was now concluded.

****

Dugong Province

Taipei, China

1977

If there was one duty Svetlana Lebedova hated since she had been promoted, it was this one; security detail at official functions as part of the Diplomatic Corps. She stood at the edge of the room and watched as the various dignitaries, assistants and staff moved around the room. Officially the talks had been a success -- a thawing of Soviet/Chinese relations was now looking more and more likely despite their differing ideological viewpoints on the Communist philosophy -- however something about the atmosphere in the room simply didn't feel right to her.

"If there's one thing I've learned in my time in the KGB it's what a worried expression looks like even when you're trying to hide it. What's wrong?" The soft tonal quality of the question reminded Svetlana of her father. She turned her head slightly, recognising the deceptively attired appearance of Innokenty Annenskij. Svetlana sighed slightly.

"Nothing sir..." She murmured to her superior officer. "I...I don't know - I'm not sure." She gestured over towards where Ambassador Mishin was standing, engrossed in conversation with an attractive young Asian woman by the name of Mei Sheng who they had been introduced to earlier in the day's proceedings. "Something's not right."

"Oh, you mean our Ambassador's young companion?" Inno added. "I have to admit that I find her attraction to our rather...plump diplomat to be somewhat confusing as well." He allowed himself a little chuckle. "Still, you know what they say about power being an aphrodisiac." His hand brushed against her arm. Svetlana felt a chill run down her spine.

"I don't mean that," She barely whispered as she looked up at him. "I mean, what's a representative from Hong Kong doing here?"

"The Chinese requested her apparently -- something to do with trying to secure some sort of trade access into Western Europe through them." Inno added. "You know how desperate the British are at the moment -- their Winter of Discontent and all that -- they want to improve their export business to China through Hong Kong as well, so it's a win-win situation all around." Svetlana shook her head.

"It's just not right -- something about her is screaming at me to slice her throat open with a steak knife." She was bristling with anger as she glared in Mei's direction. Inno chuckled.

"Calm yourself my little swan." Inno said, trying to soothe the savage beast boiling inside her. "I hear they are looking to post you to the office in Kabul."

"Yes, I can't say that I'm thrilled at the decision to dump me into that backwater." Svetlana seethed. She turned to look at Inno and he could clearly see the anger in her eyes. "Intelligence gathering in Afghanistan? What could possibly be going on there that warrants our attention?"

"They are asking us for our help -- who are we to refuse?" Inno chided her. "Besides, at least it's a change from babysitting these dull diplomats." Svetlana actually broke a smile for a moment.

"You're right," She said as she casually glanced back at the party. "And I'll be able to change...where the hell is Mishin?"

"He was there a minute ago." Inno said, inwardly cursing himself for allowing himself to be distracted by his young protégé.

"And she's nowhere to be seen either." Svetlana looked at Inno, who was shaking his head as he was starting to move away.

"Come on, they can't have gotten far."

****

After searching through the smaller staterooms that made up the ground and first floors of the embassy, Svetlana's instincts were screaming at her that something very bad was about to happen. As she followed Inno up the stairs to the second floor, Svetlana located their third associate of the evening, Yuri Demetriov, and relayed to him that they needed to lock down the Embassy as quickly as possible.

"Don't you think that's a little extreme?" Inno said as he waited for Svetlana at the top of the flight of stairs.

"Only if this turns out to be nothing more than the idiotic sexual fantasies of an old man." Svetlana shot back at him as she began checking rooms on one side of the corridor. "Nothing here."

"Same here." Inno said as he moved along the other side. They were moving towards the end of the hallway with an ever-diminishing number of rooms left to check when they both heard something that made them stop in their tracks.

"Oh yes...yes...YES!" They both recognised Mishin's voice in the midst of grunts and screams coming from the last room on the left. Svetlana was at the door in an instant -- pushing it open just enough to be able to see what was playing out within the confined space.

She saw the naked, athletic body of the Mei Sheng straddling Mishin on the floor, her body writhing energetically atop of him. He was clearly lost in the moment and oblivious to the audience peering in at him. As Inno reached the door Svetlana saw Mei reaching back and gripping something on the inside of her calf as she continued to grind down on the older man's pelvis.

The faint glint of moonlight reflecting off something metallic made Svetlana's stomach turn. She pushed the door open and entered the room -- pausing only to allow her mind a moment to register exactly what was in the young woman's hand; a small compact syringe. Reaching instinctively towards the instruments located at the side of the fireplace, Svetlana scooped up a heavy poker and swung it, striking Mei's hand and knocking the syringe to the floor. Before the Asian woman had chance to register what was going on, Svetlana had swung the poker once more, striking her forcefully across the back of the skull.

Mei Sheng crashed down against Mishin's rotund body, bouncing off his barrel like chest and slumping to his side. The expression on Mishin's face was a mixture of fear, surprise and embarrassment all at the same time. As Svetlana dragged the unconscious woman away from him, Inno threw a bathrobe at the Ambassador.

"To preserve your modesty sir." He said as he picked the syringe up from the floor. He looked over at Svetlana who still had the poker in her hand. "Looks like you were right."

"Call it women's intuition." She muttered. Inno nodded.

"Is she dead?"

"Doubtful -- I didn't hit her that hard." She replied.

"Can either of you explain what is going on?" Ambassador Mishin spat out at the two security operatives. His angry, blistering response a clear reaction to being found in a compromising situation.

"It would appear that your companion here was planning to inject you with this Ambassador." Inno said, holding up the syringe so Mishin could see it clearly. The anger immediately drained from his demeanour. "I would imagine at best its some sort of truth serum; at worst a fast acting neurotoxin or some other sort of poison." The sound of hurried footfalls moving along the corridor prompted Inno to look out of the door. He breathed a sigh of relief when he recognised the figures approaching as fellow Russians. He turned back to the Ambassador. "Sir, if you'll just get dressed and go with the gentlemen outside, they will take you back to the official residence."

Once Mishin was out of the way and the door secured, he moved over to where Svetlana was doing her best to haul Mei back into her dress. Blood was slowly oozing out of the contact point on the back of her skull. Inno handed Svetlana the woman's shoes.

"Have you any idea who she might be working for? I mean, I can't see why the Chinese would want to kill the Ambassador now..." Svetlana said as she struggled with the zipper on the back of her dress.

"I wouldn't put it past the Chinese -- however my money is on the British, after all, she is from Hong Kong and they're always recruiting people from that colony of theirs to spy on the Chinese." Inno muttered. "Pity, she's quite attractive..." His evaluation of her physical appearance was cut short by Svetlana's icy glare.

"So, what do we do with her now?" She asked. Inno shrugged.

"We'll get Yuri to bring the car around to the service entrance and take her out that way -- she'll be shipped back to Moscow for questioning then we'll decide what to do with her." He sounded nonchalant. "If she's lucky she'll get a bullet in the back of her head; if not they'll dump her in one of the Siberian camps." He helped Svetlana lift the woman up and they moved out of the room. "How did you figure out there was something off about her?"

"Oh, that was easy." Svetlana replied as they struggled out of the room. "I didn't like the way she laughed."

****

Offices of Clearwater House Publishing

February 2010

Wednesday morning

Slap!

The manuscript landed on the hard wooden desk with a satisfying sound once it completed the short descent through the air from some thirty-five centimetres above it. The noise it made was accompanied by the sound of a man slumping down into a heavily padded chair across from the functional piece of office furniture.

"There you go," Andrew Hargreaves said as he dropped down into the chair across from her. The springs whined at the sudden weight applied to it from a relative height. "The completed final draft of Zombie Disco Divas From Hell."

"Thanks, and a Happy New Year to you too." Diana, his editor and representative at Clearwater House Publishing, said as she picked up the manuscript and flicked through some of the pages. "I'll be looking at a publication date around March -- is that good for you?" Andrew shook his head.

"No -- kid's birthdays." He said. "And you'd better rule out April too." Diana shook her head.

"Fine, May it is then." She sighed. "However you're not skipping out on the promotion work this time." She opened the draw of her desk and dropped the manuscript inside. As her hand came back into view, she threw a thicker document in Andrew's direction.

"What's this?" He asked. Diana took a moment to reach into her handbag and pull a packet of cigarettes out. Andrew watched her. "I thought quitting was your New Year's resolution?"

"I tried." She said as she lit up. "It lasted all of about six hours before I started climbing the walls." She took a deep drag from the cigarette before returning her attention to Andrew's original question. "I received this manuscript from a prospective author I was contemplating signing; lovely woman, East European from what I can gather; Serbian or Slovenian or something like that. Her surname ends in that ich sort of sound -- you know what I mean, right?"