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Russian Embassy, Havana, Cuba:
Dasha sat in the office she occupied, dressed in her dress military uniform. Notably, the uniform she wore was not her Russian issued fare, but rather her old Soviet Military uniform. The man in front of her smiled. “You seem much more comfortable in that uniform, comrade. Si?” Dasha smirked and nodded. “Si. How I miss the good old days.. When we stood for something more than making crimelords into oligarchs.” The man raised an eyebrow. “You know, Senora.. We are unhappy with the current state of affairs. Words can not describe how much we owe our Russian comrades.” Dasha nodded her head in acknowledgement of the gratitude. “And likewise, the Cuban people have been loyal and stalwart partners in our glorious revolution. However, I am curious to hear your complaint.” The man nodded, pausing to adjust his collar a bit as he did so. “You have spent much time down here. My children view you almost as family. I know of your commitment to the Revolution. But the Russian government.. Are they not becoming as corrupt and decadent as the Americans?”
Dasha reflexively grabbed her pistol, but did not draw it. The more she thought about it, the harder the point was to argue. Finally, she let out a sigh and waved her hand dismissively. “They tell me it’s for the best And anyone who challenges President Putin.. Is taken care of. They either end up in jail, or they end up dead by unfortunate circumstance.. “ The man she spoke to nodded and took drag from his cigar. “Well I would never tell you how to do things, Hermana, However…” He says, leaning close, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Ju always have a home in Cuba. Viva la Revolution.” Dasha laughed a bit and nodded. “Gracias, Comrade. Perhaps I will retire here. My service to my country has entitled me to such, I think.” The man laughed, both knowing there was another meaning to the invitation and acceptance. One that Dasha had not immediately refused. Dasha deftly changed the subject. “So. Valora Salinas.”
The man laughed. “There are some of my countrymen who view her as the second coming of Che. Maybe Castro. But it stops at admiration. Senora Salinas is not a Communist as far as we know thus I can safely say no official aid or support from our government is coming to her.” Dasha nodded. “Good, keep it that way. It’s odd. The Americans think they are punishing her. In many ways, Mexico is much better off than the U.S. at the moment.” The man nodded. “Indeed. I believe we are witnessing the break up and fall of the corrupt American Empire.” Dasha smirked coldly. “Pity it didn’t come sooner. But I will still look forward to the day when can celebrate our victory.” Her guest nodded and stood. “Forgive me for taking so much of your time, my friend. I am sure you and your partner would like to rest after the flight from Texas.” Dasha stands as well and nods. “Indeed. I would like to continue our meeting though. Tomorrow, perhaps?” The man smiled and nodded. “Only if you share a drink and cigar with me. You have to try one of our national treasures at some point.” Dasha nodded. “I’ll bring some Russian vodka.”
A few moments later, Dasha left the office and glanced at Boris. “Boris!” She said sharply in a whispered shout. Boris sprang to his feet and fell into step with his partner as the two moved. Boris remained in his assigned public role until they got into the car and Boris turned to Dasha and raised an eyebrow. “Learn anything interesting?” Dasha smiles. “He says his government is not aiding Valora. But he made sure to compare her to Fidel and Che. I believe that is his way of saying without saying that someone in the government is sympathetic to her or at least believes Valora could be brought into the communist fold. Foolishness, I think but I’m willing to listen to suggestions on how it could work. For now, get us to the hotel.”
Boris nodded and the duo pulled out in their car and a short while later, sat in their hotel room, Dasha sat in front her encrypted government laptop, looking at the video chat she was having with a Russian official back home. Who smiled. “Your progress is noted, Comrade Dasha. Indeed. The President himself has noticed you and we have a couple of potential ways for you to strike while the iron is hot, as the Americans say.”
Dasha nods as she listens to her superior and unseen by him, moves a piece on her chessboard, playing a game against herself. “I am honored the President has taken an interest in me. What are these ideas?” He nods. “First. We are taking a page out of Germany’s playbook. There is an American communist held in Cuba. We have a plan to get him out of the American prison colony there. You and Boris would be perfect for this op.” Dasha moves the black knight as she considers her move. “I assume the plan would be to ensure that Ares Metaxas is taken to America to begin his revolution, much as the Germans did with Lenin?” The commanding officer nods. “Da. You have it just right. I am curious though. Your prediction of his odds of success?”
Dasha moves the white bishop in an attempt to counter the knight and thinks for a moment. “High. America is a tinderbox waiting to be set off. Ares has allies and an already established movement. Valora, a socialist populist, could have been a major thorn in Ares’ side.. But the American government was kind enough to remove her form the board. Thus without a moderating alternative, the oppressed proletariat will be much more open to Ares’ message and when the government overreacts and cracks down…” Dasha makes an explosion gesture with her hands. “Boom.”
The officer nodded. “Neutralize Valora Salinas.. Prevent her from derailing Ares’ efforts at all costs. If she can be recruited, fine. If you need to zero her out, fine.” Dasha nods and moves a black pawn. She then moves the second white bishop and takes the black queen out. “Neutralize Valora, Salinas. Second proposal?” The officer nods. “We will come to that a the proper time. Debates among the higher ups and such.” Dasha nodded and continued her moves on the board, as she listened to him. “Back to Salinas. How would you recommend we proceed?”
Dasha leaned back in her chair and thought for a second. “It is hard to say for sure. She is ideal recruit for our side. She grew up with nothing. Her whole life she has been crushed and oppressed by the brutality of capitalism and materialism. She cares about the people and wants to help.” The commander nods, listening intently, his face stoic. “Well sounds like ideal recruit. Where is the problem?” Dasha smirks. “The problem is that she likes materialism. She has money. She enjoys spending it. She enjoys having villas in Mexico City, in Barcelona. But she also loved, really truly loved, this run down little gym she owned. She is a complicated woman. I will have to do some research on her, but I would say recruitment is our best choice. People and organizations who operate directly opposed to her tend not to last long. As her current enemies will be learning shortly.”
Her commanding officer is silent for a moment, considering this and nods. “Begin efforts to try and bring her to our side. If we can get her and Ares working together.. Even if they have separate groups, we can broaden our range of success to more than just the United States.” dasha makes her next move and nods. A short while later, the conversation ends and Dasha continues her chess game against herself, analyzing her tactics, looking for weak points, refining them, making herself better as she goes…
One Day Later, Russian Embassy, Cuba:
Dasha sits at a table in a conference room, her chessboard laid out in front of her. Across from her sits a man watching Dasha play. Boris stands against the wall, arms crossed across his chest, looking intimidating. The man leans forward. “I have been in contact with Comrade Metaxes for a while now. He is expecting Valora and his allies to rescue him. I have made it clear to him that even if they wished to, a direct assault on Guantanmo Bay is suicide. Even if they manage it, they have nowhere safe to fall back to. They need our help. I have pitched my idea to him and he approves of it.”
Dasha nods, her typical stoic, slightly bored expression on her face as she listens and takes in the information. “Very good, Nikolai. What was his response to our offer of help and how exactly do you plan to pull it off?” Nikolai scratched his beard for a moment and grinned. “He is willing to accept our help, and the terms that come with it. As for the actual operation himself…” He pauses, lifting up a briefcase and opening it, digging through folders and papers. Finding what he wants, he sets it down in front of Dasha. It is a paper with the seal of the white house and President McStrump’s signature on it. “I convinced our puppets in America that Mr. Metaxes has information on Valora. I’ve also convinced him we are far better at convincing people to talk than his people are. You are looking at his executive order approving transfer of the Terrorist Ares Metaxes to Moscow for ‘Enhanced Interrogation to discover threats to the American and Russian peoples.” You and Boris will, very literally, walk into Guantanamo, have Ares handed to you and walk right out. Once we do that, we will bring here to Havana to prepare for final transport to Russia, of course, here, we will swap him out with a body double, while the real Ares will be given a fake id to get him into the country and we are hoping by that time we will have employment papers for him with UOW as well.” Dasha nods as she listens to this and examines the documents, meticulously looking over the plan to ensure everything is in order. Nikolai looks at her and points. “Your name.. Sounds familiar but you are too young to have worked with me.” Dasha, still looking through the documents and the orders for the operation nods. “My mother worked for the KGB, head of re-education division.” Nikolai snapped his fingers. “DA! Knew I recognized the name. Your mother did good work. She did not groom you to follow?” Dasha nods, catching the past tense of ‘did’ and filing that away for future use. “She did. I majored in psychology and went through training. Cut my teeth in Chechnya where I learned to interrogate terrorists. I was temporarily assigned to Spetsnaz to serve role with them. Then transferred permanently when I impressed.” Nikolai nodded as he stood up, Dasha standing up as well after gathering the documents and replacing them in their folder. “The Americans are expecting us?” Nikolai nods. “I am sure they are not pleased, but they know you will be coming.”
Later that day, Guantanamo Bay, Cuba:
Dasha looked out the window as the small plane they were on circled around and made it’s final approach to land at the base. Boris sat across the aisle, watching video of their opponents in UOW. Eric Dillinger and Johnny Rage. Dasha left him to his preparations as she adjusted her uniform. She wore her dress uniform while Boris was in fatigues. Today’s assignment required that they be seen primarily as soldiers. It would make the Americans less nervous. Of course this was largely a temporary solution. After they left, someone from the CIA would likely look over the visitor logs, see their names and, if they had any shred of competence at all, would put together who she and Boris were. By then, however, it would be too late and the CIA would remain one step behind the Russian Intelligence services. She drank her water calmly as the plane touched down calmly for a landing. As her plane taxied to a stop, Dasha stood up, glancing out the window as she watched the American military escort take their spot and rolled her eyes, looking at Boris speaking in Russian. “Americans and their toys. Take the gun out of an American’s hand and they turn into cowards instantly.” Boris nodded and the two made their way down to the tarmac. As the pair reached their American escorts, Dasha recognized one of them as likely CIA. The man wore a suit, and had the look of someone who screamed spy to one trained on what to look for The man shook her hand and nodded. “Jack Biel, State Department.” Dasha smirked. “Dasha Ivanova. President of the Russian Federation.” The man frowned. “I’m sorry, I was expecting to meet Dasha Ivanova, Lt. Commander in the Russian Army, psychological warfare division. The same who was then assigned to Spetsnaz division and was he mastermind behind at least 3 counter-terrorism operations. The same Dasha Ivanova currently banned from Mixed martial arts competition for killing one of her opponents.” Dasha listened as the man showed off his knowledge. Amatuer. So eager to prove himself, he gave away his identity. Dasha smirked. “Very good, Mr. CIA.” The man closed his eyes and nodded, realizing he fell right into Dasha’s trap.
He gave Dasha a nod of respect, one spy to another, and gestured to the car. As the group moved to the convoy, Dasha and Boris got in, Boris taking some time to fit into the car. As the vehicles began, moving, Dasha glanced out the window at the base as it went by, her memory perfectly remembering everything she saw and keeping it for future use. Out of the corner of her eyes, she was drawn back to the CIA agent speaking to her. “So. Metaxes. Mind if I ask what Russia’s interest in him is?” Dasha smiles a bit at hearing this. “Well, my American comrade, you seem to have a problem. You are seeking Valora Salinas. You believe Metaxes has information that you can use to track her. Yet so far, you have not gotten information from him, is that correct?” Dasha paused for a moment and nodded as his silence confirmed her supposition and continued on. “Well, you are learning. However, you run into a common problem. You are good at breaking your targets but not breaking them.” The CIA gent raised an eyebrow curiously and nodded. “I believe something is being lost in translation, you said breaking twice.” Dasha nods. “Indeed. You see, there are two types of breaking a man. First is proper breaking. At this stage, the target is willing to tell you the truth. You can then move onto the next stage of collecting information. Then you have actual breaking. At this stage, the target will say anything to make pain stop. Useful for propaganda purposes if you know how to do so, but useless for all other purposes.”
Her companion from the CIA thought about this a second and nodded. “Well we seem to be good at the latter, not so good at the former. You really think he has intel on Salinas?” Dasha smirks and nods. “I do. He might have knowledge without knowing he has it. He and Salinas are very similar insects. Find out what he might do and you might gain insight into what she is doing.” The CIA operative lets out a sigh. “I hope so. The bitch is a pain. Far as we can tell she’s constantly on the move. Someone is keeping her off the grid. We believe she’s using cash and barter to get supplies.” Dasha nods. “This would track with what my people know about insurgents. First rule for them is be hard to track. Never stay in one place for more than 2 or 3 days. Unless that place is well hidden and isolated or unless you know for sure local population will protect you. Still… I would think she would need a central hideout of some sort.” The CIA Agent nodded. “Definitely. But we have no fuckin’ clue where. I mean, we know it has to be Mexico somewhere… but it’s a pretty big country itself.”
Dasha found it amusing that the Americans weren’t even considering the possibility that Valora might hide somewhere other than Mexico. Especially with 2 white companions who would stick out like a sore thumb in isolated areas of Mexico. As the car pulled up to the prison cells, everyone got out of their various vehicles. As the group waited, a group of soldiers led him out. Ares Metaxes walked out, shackled hands and feet, chained to a central chain around his waist. As he was brought to a stop, Dasha said one word. “Boris.” Boris walked over to the man, removing his smartphone and grabbed him roughly by the hair, jerking his hair back to expose his face and took a picture, glancing at his phone as Russian intelligence agents verified his identity and nodded to Dasha who nodded. The military officer in charge stepped forward and held out a folder and pad. “Ma’am. I need to sign this, to confirm the prisoner transfer. I’ll also need to see your orders.” Dasha nodded and handed her authorizations over and the man took a look at them and nodded, nodding once more to his men who handed Ares off to Boris.
A short time later, Dasha, Boris and Ares, along with a couple other Russian operatives, were back on the plane and airborne. Ares looks over at Dasha, taking the attractive Russian woman’s looks in before nodding. “So. For obvious reasons, I wasn’t given much of the plan. First off, I wanna know how the hell you guys just got the Americans to hand me over to you? After that, we can discuss other details of the plan going forward.” Dasha leaned back in her seat and regarded Ares for a moment. On one hand, the man’s unmitigated arrogance was astounding. To believe he was in any sort of position to make demands. On the other hand, at least he wasn’t hitting on her. There was room to work with him. Dasha shifted her position in her seat, deliberately taking a moment to answer, a subtle gesture to Ares to remind him who was in charge here. After that moment, she answered. “We’ve learned how the American government works. Turns out our Chinese comrades are correct. The American government is a den of whores. Throw them enough money and they will do whatever they want. Besides. As much as they fear you, there is another one who they fear. They fear her enough to merit the nickname Baba Yaga.”
Ares thinks for a moment. “My Russia is crap but isn’t that like a boogeyman or something.” Dasha smiles. “Or something, yes. We don’t need more indepth descriptions now, but I’m guessing you know who we are talking about, da?” Ares nods. “Valora Salinas. What’s she up to now?” Dasha glances over at Boris and then turns back to Ares. “She is McStrump’s worst nightmares all rolled into one. A Mexican. A female, a Feminist. He has declared her public enemy number 1 and ordered the federal government to declare war on her.” Ares facepalms and sighs. “Stupid fuck. He just gave her everything she wants on a silver platter.” Dasha nods. “She is nearly unstoppable when she has a foe to fight. At any rate. She is essentially leading her own insurgent band. Thus far, she has proven...unwilling to act against your group and has supported them when possible.”
Ares nods. “She remembers we gave her shelter when she needed it. Ran a nice little bar in Detroit too.. Managed to create a nice friendly place and-” He stops, for a moment recalling old memories. “I think it might have been the first time I saw her truly happy.” Dasha nods. “Perhaps you can contact her again. Allen Anderson forced a member of your group, Takuma Sato, to break her arm last match. This has ended it seems, your attempts to recruit her protege Abbigail Dresden.” Ares narrows his eyes a bit. “Well damage control first then. Now, you didn’t free me out of the goodness of your heart. What are you looking for in return?” Dasha leans forward. “I am a communist. I want to see the oppressed proletariat in the United States rise up and overthrown their corrupt Corporate Overlords.” Dasha shrugs. “I would like to see Wall Street burn. I want to see a United States that could be an ally.” Ares nods. “Well that was pretty much my plan anyways, but you know that.” Dasha nods. “Of course, I do. Your views mesh well with our goals. I want to see Russia rebuild the Soviet Union. I imagine I can count on you to focus on your people first and not meddle in the internal affairs of other countries.” Ares takes her hand and shakes it. “It’s going to take awhile to stabilize America. As long as you don’t piss off our major allies, I think we’ll be unable to get involved with small scale conflicts.” Dasha grins. “Glad we understand each other.”
The plane made its way to Havana and came down to land. Dasha took this moment to continue her explanation. “We are landing in Havana to refuel and prepare for the trip to Russia. You will get off here and be replaced by a body double, in case American eyes are still on us. In a few hours, you will be on a flight to Canada and from there, you can make contact with your group to return to Detroit or we can provide you with a way back in. I know it might seem better to your group if you return to America on your own and can let your group believe you escaped and return on your own. Since we both have some time. We can discuss plans for the future a bit more in depth.” She says as they stand, glancing at Boris. “Make sure our double is ready and continue putting together your report for our match.” Ares listened to the two and glanced at Dasha, he opened his mouth to begin but stopped and looked at the TV, glancing at Boris. “Comrade.. Can you turn that up a bit?” Boris looked at Ares and deliberately waited for a few moments until he saw what was on and turned it up as well.
Russian TV News reporting live from the Kremlin. Truly a glorious day here. Our Empire is back!” The scene shifts to the Kremlin where Vladimir Putin sits on a throne, the hated symbol of Tzarist Russia behind him. New Reussian flags bearing the red white and blue bars with the Tzarist symbol on it standing behind him.
Vladimir Putin: “Today, our country continues to grow stronger. Due to the fact that only criminals and anarchists wish to challenge me in our presidential elections, I have decided to restore Our Imperial Glorious traditions. I assume the mantle of Tzar, Defender of the Faith for the Russian Orthodox Church, and Emperor of all Russia. The Russian Federal Assembly will now become the Imperial Assembly of Advisors and will take an advisory role to the Oligarchs. Each Oligarch will be placed in the role of governor of the various provinces or minister over parts of the Russian economy. More specific details will follow in the following days. But the Russian people need stability. I will provide that stability.”
Dasha listened to the report without word. Standing there in stunned silence as words failed her. Her entire world, everything she had been taught to believe was going away. Replaced by the very thing she had been told and believed was evil. Dasha slowly clenched her fist. Ares placed a hand on her shoulder sympathetically. “Perhaps you need a revolution too.” Dasha nods.. “Da… perhaps we do at that.”
To be continued: