The Gray Man Ch. 32 - Natalia

Gray's face hid the smirk well. He had just gotten a dynamite blow job by an MI-5 agent as he drove to Heathrow on the damp and gray March morning. It was time to put Thomas Patrick James - or even TJ Gray away. He was now The Ghost, or is cover for this mission, Benjamin Reynolds, the British expat, living in Columbus, Ohio and working for Marathon Oil. He was married to Eileen with two sons - Steve and Niklas. His mission was simple: find out if one of the CIA agents housed in the US Embassy in Moscow was a traitor. Ghost had to remind himself that this was an intelligence mission, not a military one. He had to make sure to stay in the moment and not rush too far ahead. The current objective: Catch the first of his flights to Dusseldorf Germany, then to Ankara, Turkey then finally to Moscow.

The Ghost was dressed in an impeccably tailored dark suit that allowed him to blend seamlessly into the crowd. To any other passenger hustling through Heathrow Gray presented an unassuming figure, but beneath the surface, his senses were on high alert.

TJ boarded early, Izzy from MI-5 had thought of everything, making sure that he was a member of the Executive Club. As he settled into his seat 4 C on the British Airways flight, the hum of the aircraft's engines became a steady background noise. Gray pulled out a nondescript tablet filled with handwritten notes, encrypted messages, and photographs. This was his lifeline, a repository of intelligence on Natalia Kuznetsova, and even notes on his own backstory.

The short flight to Dusseldorf gave Gray time to study his backstory and quickly delete it before anyone could examine the contents of the tablet. Even though Turkey was in NATO, the current regime leaned closer to Putin's Russia than to the European powers.

TJ moved through the Dusseldorf Airport to the gate for the Turkish Airlines flight to Ankara. Again, Gray boarded Business Class early, once again sitting in seat 4 C. He used this leg to relax, clear his mind and think of his first steps once on the ground in Moscow.

The flight to Ankara was turbulent, Ghost hoped that wasn't some sort of omen for what awaited him in Moscow.

With each passing mile, Ghost drew closer to Moscow, closer to answers that remained elusive. It was almost gametime. In Ankara, Ghost made sure he was able to have a couple of amazing cups of Turkish coffee before he boarded the Airbus A 340 to Moscow. Gray was able to stretch out in seat 4-B. He studied all of the intelligence that he had on Major Nikolai Ivanov. This was the SVR agent that CIA Station Chief Harrison Montgomery believed his agent was passing intelligence to.

In the dimly lit cabin, Gray read notes on Ivanov before his thoughts returned to Kuznetsova and the enigma that she had become.

As the large aircraft started its descent into Sheremetyevo International Airport TJ deleted all of his notes other than the ones that Izzy had included to cover his backstory including pictures of Eileen and the children, interoffice emails from Marathon Oil as well as other correspondence. She also included an itinerary which blended in with Benjamin Reynolds movements in Moscow as well as St. Petersburg. As Gray put the tablet in his messenger bag he made a note to see if Izzy and Fiona may be interested in joining Pelican Intel.

The plane taxied to the ramp, the jetway was moved, and the door opened. The cold night air of Russia overpowered the heat of the jetway as Gray made his way into the terminal. He understood that eyes would be on him as well as every other foreign national. Putin had grown paranoid with the stalemate in Ukraine and everyone coming into the country was scrutinized. TJ needed to be on his A game. But, the hunt was on, and Gray was the best in the game.

TJ wished he could go through Green Channel customs, but as Ben Reynolds it was not going to work out as easily as that. The customs area was a blend of weary travelers, disinterested officials, and a multitude of languages, but Gray had been in such situations often enough to know that blending in was paramount. He approached the Federal Customs Service Agent with a calm and confident demeanor, offering a polite nod and a faint smile. This was just another routine business trip, or so he appeared to the casual observer.

The customs agent, a middle-aged man with a stern expression, scrutinized Gray's passport and the entry documents that were meticulously forged by Izzy. With the finesse of an experienced traveler, Gray answered the agent's questions about the purpose of his visit and the nature of his stay. Every detail had been prepared with utmost precision, down to the smallest particulars. Gray noticed that a second agent had moved within earshot. TJ instantly knew that the second agent was FSB, just making sure that nobody entered the country that could be deemed a threat.

The FCS agent gaze remained fixed on Gray for a moment, probing for any signs of deception or hesitation. The seconds felt like hours as Gray met the agent's gaze unwaveringly. This was the critical juncture many would flinch, look away, or allow their body language to give cause for detainment. He knew that any lapse in confidence or detail could be his undoing.

One other little twist remained as the FCS agent motioned to a female guard. Gray thought for a moment that his cover was blown. Instead she asked him to put his arms out to his side. He anticipated being swept by a wand, instead it was a pat down. The attractive young guard patted down each arm, his torso, then down his right leg and up his left. She gasped as she worked her way up his left leg and encountered his huge prick hanging down his left thigh. She fondled his prick two or three times just to make sure it wasn't a weapon. She stood, winked at Gray and nodded to the FCS agent.

Finally, the FSB agent grunted and the customs agent stamped Gray's passport, allowing him to pass through and continue his journey into Moscow. To many this would seem like a small hurdle. TJ knew however, this was probably the biggest hurdle that he faced until he needed to make a decision on how to handle Natalia. Every step that allowed his cover to remain was a huge victory. With a polite nod of thanks, Gray moved forward, blending into the sea of passengers making their way through the airport to collect his luggage and move to ground transportation.

TJ had left nothing in his luggage other than business clothes and a couple of polo shirts and pullovers that MI-5 had provided with Marathon Oil logos and identification. As well as a stash of business cards. There was no way that his luggage would not have been gone through with a fine toothed comb.

Gray retrieved his luggage, moved to ground transport and found a car to take him to Hotel Metropol. Ben Reynolds checked in, went to his room and unpacked his luggage. Hanging more formal wear, putting other clothing into the small dresser. The SVR uniform was hanging where it should, it was the perfect size. Every step of the way TJ was more impressed with Izzy's work.

TJ remembered the schedule that Harrison had sent. Most evenings Natalia left the embassy near dinner time and didn't return until close to 11 PM. TJ looked at the clock in his room, it was 7:00. With late dinners being the norm in Moscow he made his way towards the American Embassy and as luck would have it he saw Natalia leaving the embassy gate and started to walk along Malyy Konyushkovskiy Pereulok, then turned left and walked along the Garden Ring.

10 minutes or so into her walk a man joined her as she continued to walk along The Golden Ring before the pair turned onto Ulitsa Spiridonovka. The man walked just a few feet in front of her. She didn't speed up to catch him and he never looked over his shoulder. To any American agents following her this would be a normal way of communicating with an asset. It didn't look like they were walking together, just two people walking in the same direction. Nothing sinister about that.

The hair on the back of Gray's neck stood up and one of the things he had been trained in and learned over the years - never discount what your gut tells you. TJ moved about 50 yards behind the pair and followed. He didn't need to know if they were talking, or if this was as innocent as it looked. Ghost was simply looking for any intelligence he could find.

Things got interesting when both the male and Natalia slipped into The Margarita Bistro. Gray waited for ten minutes, standing under a streetlight as he pretended to look at tourist maps of Moscow.

After an appropriate wait, Ghost decided it was time to enter the restaurant himself. Crossing the threshold of the Margarita Bistro, Gray's senses were greeted by a tapestry of aromas and soft jazz melodies. The crowd was small as Gray imagined many crowds were around Moscow these days. Even though the government denied it, the reality of the west's embargoes were taking a toll. The ambiance was sophisticated, upscale. It reminded him of a bistro along the Champs-Élysées in Paris, or perhaps Via Angelo Emo in Rome.

Gray's footsteps were measured as he approached. He took a seat opposite Natalia and her male escort. It took a minute but the man's face turned and Ghost was able to confirm that it was indeed Major Nikolai Ivanov. From the looks of things it seemed that the Ambassador and the two Station Chiefs were correct.

Gray was not close enough to hear the conversation even though he could observe their interaction. The notes that Gray would later put into his tablet were that their body language was familiar, flirty - like two lovers. Their knowing glances and shared smiles showed that the relationship went beyond professional. Close but not overtly intimate, engaged in conversation. Their words were hushed, barely audible, their shared glances laden with affection.

Gray's trained eyes scanned their body language, but it was a tableau of lovers, not spies passing secrets. There was an authenticity to their interaction that defied the traditional patterns of espionage. It was a different narrative, one painted in the hues of romance, not intrigue.

Seated at a nearby table, Gray continued to observe as the two brushed hands, let their feet touch, laughed and whispered. The question now became was Natalia engaged in an activity to flip Ivanov or was it the other way around? The other possibility is that the two were star crossed lovers and neither had betrayed their sworn oaths. TJ finished his dinner and began the walk back to his hotel, noting the tail that he had picked up.

Ghost didn't want to give the asset following him any clue that TJ knew he was being followed, nor a clue that TJ was none other than who his ID said he was, 'Ben Reynolds'. TJ stopped outside of a Russian Orthodox Cathedral, pausing to admire the architecture. After the brief stop he started his walk to the Hotel where he went up to his room, locked the door and listened.

Two minutes later a heavy set of footsteps walked down the hallway. TJ believed that the FSB agent had not found out which room Gray was staying in, but the reality that his room may be checked meant that the SVR Uniform in his closet would be a problem.

Ghost had to come up with a plan B and soon. Looking around the room he lifted the mattress, laid the dark green uniform flat on the base and replaced the mattress. His military discipline allowed him to make the bed exactly as it was. When he stepped back it looked like nothing in the room had been moved.

Ghost waited a few more minutes then moved back downstairs to The Chalipain Bar, made famous by the book, "A Gentleman in Moscow". Gray took a microfiber cloth and wiped his tablet clean, slid a sock under the mattress beneath the duvet on the side of the bed opposite the door. TJ took a piece of thread from his luggage and placed it in the door as he closed the door behind him. He ordered The Star cocktail which was White Rum, Pineapple shrub with pomegranate, Maraschino, Quillaia extract.

'Ben Reynolds' sat in a place that allowed him to casually observe his surroundings. It took about 15 minutes before a beautiful young woman approached him. The hair on the back of Gray's neck stood up as the lithe woman approached. She moved with a practiced grace. Her dark hair framed her face perfectly, her make-up was precise, and her deep red lipstick had left a ring on her glass of what Gray believed to be white wine.

"Good evening," she said politely. "First night in Moscow?" Gray noticed that her English was very good, with a slight British accent herself.

TJ nodded and replied in his backstory non descript midwest American accent with his own British expat thrown in for good measure. "Does my jet lag and sleep deprivation show that badly?"

The woman smiled and made a tiny sign with her fingers, "Maybe just a wee bit. Where are my manners?" She held out her hand, palm down. "My name is Katya Petrova, I'm on the faculty at Moscow State University. Welcome to Moscow."

Gray took the hint and kissed the back of her hand, "Ben Reynolds, I'm with Marathon Oil."

Katya cocked her head, "American. We haven't seen many of your kind here these past couple of years."

Gray shook his head, "Politics, if we could just get politicians out of the way I think we would all get along much better. However, actually I am here in anticipation of things thawing out a bit. Spending a few days here before meetings in St. Petersburg. Perhaps some new partnerships will arise."

Katya lifted her glass, "To new beginnings."

TJ acknowledged the toast by lifting his glass, "Za vstrechu" (To our meeting)

Katya smiled, "You speak Russian!"

Gray smiled, "chootchoot," (just a little bit)

Katya moved closer as the small talk continued, finding small opportunities to brush his hand or leg. She was making it known that a trip to Gray's hotel room was not out of the question. TJ played along as well as he could while not giving away too much information or showing too much interest. There was a possibility that Katya was exactly who she claimed to be, a Mathematics professor from MSU - while it was just as likely that she was a Sparrow for the SVR, using her sexuality to recruit prominent westerners through threats of blackmail.

Fiona's accusations of Gray being a Raven danced in his mind. He was truly becoming the male version of the Russian Sparrow or the NATO Swallow. Using his cock and his sexuality to break, turn, blackmail foreign assets. Gray refrained from his traditional smirk as this dance unfolded.

Fatigue was beginning to take its toll on the American agent. He said goodnight to Katya and headed up to his room. When he reached his door he was not surprised to see that the white thread was no longer where he had placed it. Someone had been in his room. His bigger concern was to see if the sock had fallen. He doubted that they would have flipped the mattress when he had everything else easy enough to find.

Gray breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that the sock was still in place. He took some powder that he had brought with him on his tablet that he had wiped clean. Again, he was not surprised to find gloved smudges on the screen. So he was now sure that someone had been in his room, had gone through his stuff, but had not found the uniform hidden beneath the mattress.

Experience had told him that if he gave nothing to raise more alarm he should be safe for the next couple of days. He had to be sure that to not do anything that seemed suspicious. TJ's next day would be a trip to Moscow State University. His goal was to speak to a professor that was a CIA asset in the Master's Program in Geological-Geophysical Exploration and Modelling of Hydrocarbon Fields with the side goal of seeing if Dr. Katya Petrova was a faculty member. He would also visit St. Basi's and The Cathedral of Christ the Savior while looking for Icons for his wife Eileen. During the evening he had tickets to the CSKA Moscow Hockey game.

TJ followed his itinerary to the letter so as to not raise suspicion. He was definitely being tailed as three different FSB agents followed him throughout the day. Most would have never noticed it, but TJ had been on both sides of that equation and knew what to look for.

When Gray returned to the hotel he walked by the bar without stopping leaving a disappointed Katya Petrova sitting alone in the same place Gray sat the previous evening. When the elevator doors closed, Gray smirked for the first time the entire mission.

The following day found Gray headed to spend the morning at Lenin's Tomb and other tourist items before spending the afternoon at a Banya. The man who used the birch branches to gently flog the back audibly gasped when he saw the viscous scars on The American's back.

TJ truly enjoyed the almost Upper Peninsula type of experience going from the very moist heat of the banya to an icy plunge. He even grew to like the felt hat that they made him wear. He hid his smirk when both the men and the women saw the size of his cock through the black speedos that they had provided for him.

Once again that evening TJ followed Natalia. This time though she walked away from the embassy, hailed a Yandex Taxi and went to an Apartment Complex. TJ was able to get the name of the complex, but no idea where she went inside of the building or who she saw. He had an idea, but no proof.

Fortunately the next morning as Gray went down to breakfast around the fountain, the British asset at the front desk was working. TJ went over to ask about arranging a car to the opera that evening, while slipping her a note regarding the apartment complex. She told him that she would have the information about the car after he had eaten.

When he had eaten a delicate slip of paper gave Gray the intel that he needed. Major Nikolai Ivanov lived in apartment 821 of the building Natalia had gone to the night before. TJ knew his next steps.

That day, Gray stayed around the hotel. Walked the square around the Kremlin and played the part of a fatigued tourist. He took his tablet to the lobby and "worked" in the business center. He logged in to read The WSJ and The Economist. Tracked at charted oil and natural gas prices and trends and made a couple of phone calls to numbers that were assigned to Marathon Oil but ported to an office at the US State Department. To anyone watching, TJ was nothing more than Benjamin Reynolds.

Once again when he returned to the Metropol he found Katya sitting at the bar. It was time for Gray to change the game just a bit. Ben Reynolds made his way to the bar, ordered a chilled bottle of Russian Vodka and moved to a table. The one thing Gray knew was that predictable people were predictable. It only took a few minutes for Katya to make her way over.

Gray asked for another glass and poured each of them a drink. The two sat and talked as Katya became more flirtatious. TJ had to get up a couple of times and made sure that he turned so that Katya knew how well hung he was.

Just about 11 PM Gray stood and held out his hand. The wordless invitation for Katya to join him as they moved to the elevator.

Katya was certain that her mission was about to be completed. The graduate of the famed Kazan school, Katya was a sparrow. Well, she had graduated but was not assigned to the intelligence gathering side of being a sparrow. Her job was to seduce and fuck married foreign nationals, obtain evidence, and use that evidence to blackmail them into passing along information that her bosses found important.

As the elevator door opened Katya could already hear her station chief's praise in her ear. TJ led her into the hotel room. No sooner than the door closed than the large American spun and pinned her to the door by her throat. Gray's 6'1 frame towered over the diminutive Russian. Katya stood 5'1 in heels, 4'11 in her stocking feet.