Sexpionage 3 – Blowback

Blowback – Sexpionage 3

‘Blowback’ is a term originating from within the Central Intelligence Agency, explaining the unintended consequence and unwanted side-effects of a covert operation.

Reflecting signs of a rapprochement between Belarus and the USA, both countries had recently appointed diplomatic ambassadors to one another. Russia had stopped the energy talks but there was clearly a more determined intent to develop a mutual understanding between the USA and the Russian Federation’s near neighbour.

Ekaterina, posing as Yulia Jelic, had played a very important part in stopping the energy deal (See ‘Swallow’s Nest’), thereby allowing Russia to retain its grip on the much smaller, and very reliant, border country. But Belarus was wary, and suspicious. They knew that Anatol Radkov had not disappeared through his own choice. Belarusians did not defect, and they had intelligence showing their official on, what turned out to be, his last night, flirting with a coffee girl and meeting her later for dinner. A girl that purported to be Belarusian herself … well she was not. She was Yulia Jelic, a Russian immigrant … and she was being watched very closely by the Belarusian embassy.

The unrelated, and very unfortunate, demise of the Belarusian Ambassador to the USA before he could formally take up his position, meant that Belarus had no Lead Official in Washington, but they had a diplomatic team that included members of the Special Purpose Police Detachment (OMON), deployed into the US by the Ministry of Internal Affairs (MUS) in Minsk.

They wanted to ‘talk’ with Yulia.

The Embassy of Belarus in Washington, D.C. 1619 New Hampshire Avenue.

She slowly descended the stairs from her first-floor apartment, smiled at the various people she passed, and walked out into the bright sunlight. It was only a short walk to the Belarusian Embassy, and she was there in fifteen minutes.

The guards on the outer gate inspected her ID and nodded as, with an inevitable glance at her partly exposed cleavage, they cross checked their visitor list for today.

“You may proceed Miss Jelic.”

A beaming smile, followed by a slender smirk acknowledging the fact that showing more than a little cleavage never failed to help her cause, and Yulia was inside. She passed the internal guards and crossed the inner courtyard.

The letter had been delivered to her apartment – which meant they knew where she lived. That in itself had caused alarm bells to ring inside her head, but Comrade Colonel Tretykov ordered her to attend the requested meeting with the Belarusian Diplomatic team, and after the way she had been treated by Tretykov and the people who were supposed to be her colleagues during their visit to Washington (see ‘A Friendly Hell’), she was in no mood to dissent. If she didn’t accept the invitation, he had said, then there would be too much suspicion aroused. And so here she was … but was she a lamb to the slaughter

There were several people in the main reception area, but none of them paid her much attention; if she had been admitted past the outer gate then surely her presence had to be legitimate. On the door of the inner entry point the OMON officers furrowed their brows at her. She smiled at them in turn, and stepped into the hall, waiting for a moment to allow her eyes to become accustomed to the relative gloom, then headed towards the staircase, but checked herself as a door on her right opened.

Yulia turned and gazed at the shirt-sleeved man looking at her. More alarm bells rang in her brain as she saw the way he stared at her, but in her attempt to be as disarming as possible, she smiled back at him.

“Mister Petrov?” She inquired. Mikhail Petrov was the person who had invited her to the meeting, and it was only her intuition that deduced this was him.

“Miss Jelic, how good of you to come, and if you don’t mind me saying …” his lecherous gaze devoured her breasts, before adding, “… you are looking spectacular… please come this way.”

Yulia nodded and, as Petrov stepped aside to allow her entry, she walked past him to the interior of his office feeling his gaze stripping her of every last stitch of clothing.

“You are looking so well Miss Jelic, even if in your case it will be a temporary condition.”

“Huh, what do you mean …”

“I mean, Miss Jelic that you are under arrest.”

Yulia’s shocked surprise was paramount obviating the opportunity to object. Then she heard movement behind her. Two large side doors had opened, and when she turned her head, she discovered six men, all looking a little apprehensive, but all considerably larger than herself.

She was trained to fight, but the odds here were not good at all. She was under arrest but for what? What would they charge her with? There was no proof of anything, was there?

At least these men appeared to be unarmed, and they were waiting for her to move.

“It would be very unwise of you to attempt to resist,” Petrov said. “We know you are dangerous, but I doubt even you could cope with my men. And I do know that they would dearly love to get their hands on your body.”

Disgusted by his implication Yulia had no time to reflect on her thoughts, because the fact they were about to arrest her was most obviously uppermost in her mind. Exactly what did they know, Yulia thought to herself, was this all a bluff enticing her to confess. Then it dawned upon her that she had no support, no backup. She could not demand asylum via the Russian Embassy because that would be tantamount to a confession. Tretykov had already warned her that bunder no circumstances should she call upon their assistance in the event of being caught, and now she walked straight into a trap. What would her fate be … the Belarusian’s were not known for their willingness to abide by international law?

Yulia’s nostrils flared as she inhaled. But for the moment she was helpless, it was time to deploy one of her greatest assets … patience. “Aren’t they going to do that anyway?” She responded to Petrov’s comment about getting their hands on her body … her voice was low and controlled.

“Not if you behave yourself, and do as we say. Take off your jacket and give me your purse and place your arms behind your back.”

Yulia obeyed. “May I ask why you are doing this? What am I being arrested for?”

“You will find out soon enough.”

Yulia felt the touch of steel, and listened to the click of the handcuffs, as her wrists were secured resulting in the inevitable thrust of her breasts out from her exquisite body. She was powerless, and at the mercy of these men – of Petrov. She had to protest.

“Would you like to call your embassy huh, Yulia?”

As she looked down at the floor, the hapless girl whispered, “I am from Belarus, this is my Embassy.”

Petrov laughed, “Then I do not think your Embassy is interested in you any longer, Yulia.”

The Embassy of Belarus in Washington, D.C. 1619 New Hampshire Avenue.

She stared at him, and resisted the sudden panic that was threatening to cloud her judgement. “I have the right to …” Yulia began her sentence but found herself quickly cut off.

“You have no rights, “Comrade” Jelic.” He came close to her. “I think this is how I like you best, Yulia. I don’t think you would carry a weapon into this meeting, but you never know, maybe I should make sure.”

Once again, the alarm bells rang in her head, and they rang out so violently that she hardly felt his hands sliding over her top, squeezing her breasts, and then moving downwards to feel between her legs, a move designed only to weaken the Agent and highlight how vulnerable she was.

However, trained as she was, Yulia knew that if this was the worst that was going to happen to her, she had nothing to worry about. She was shrouded in stale cigarette and whisky breath, but he was already stepping away.

“I am going to see a lot more of you in the near future, Yulia,” he promised, “And hear a lot more from you, also.” He nodded at his men. “Take her away, and remember your instructions.”

“Yes, Polkovnik, Sir,” one of them said.

“You will come with us, Miss.”

Yulia looked at Petrov. “I assume you will be informing your superiors at the Embassy that you have detained me and why?”

Petrov merely smiled.

“May I have my jacket pleased, it’s a little chilly outside?”

“And risk removing your handcuffs? I think not Miss Jelic. Take her.”

Yulia was marched to the back of the building where a car waited.

The back driver side door was opened and she was pushed into the interior, not violently, but without the use of her hands to steady herself she stumbled, landed on her knees, and would have fallen had her shoulders not been grasped.

“We do not wish to mark such a beautiful face, do we, Comrade Jelic`?” She could sense the sarcasm in the guard’s tone.

Yulia got her breathing under control as she was pulled up, turned round, and made to sit, her hands crushed against the back of the seat. She was moving into an unknown situation, and one which could carry a death sentence for her. Except that right now she had committed no crime, at least not one that anyone could possibly know about … could they?

She knew, of course, that the Belarusians had some substance for their suspicions, and believed they knew what the truth was, but they had no proof … did they? But there was nothing, as far as they were concerned, for her to be suspected of. What she had done was known only to herself and her colleagues at the centre. And presumably to Tretykov’s superiors. There was no reason for any of them to betray her; it made no sense.

Yet Petrov seemed to know. Indeed, he appeared to know a great deal about her secret background. She had not been looking where they were heading, but now the black Range Rover swung through a gateway set into the high wall of a large, seemingly dilapidated, building, to stop before an open door. A discreet glance told Yulia very quickly that she was surrounded by high walls on all sides.

The car door was opened, and Yulia’s arms were grasped to pull her out. She staggered again, and one shoe came off. One of the men picked it up, but left her to limp lopsidedly into the entrance hall where several people waiting for her, men and women, but only one seemed to matter.