The Scorpions Nest

HRH Prince Harry is Kidnapped in Afghanistan, What would you do get him back, follow this exciting story through several countries, and High octane action in the quest to bring the monarch back alive

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3. St.Petersburgh

 

Russia St Petersburg 15.00 GMT/17.30 AFT/19.00 MT     A slow steady stream of cigarette smoke leaves Sergi's pursed lips, as it starts to slow he blows some intentional smoke rings out to amuse himself, he reaches down for a small shot glass on the table in front of him, his hands slightly shaking, and although it was not warm in this little taverna, it was not the cold causing these shakes, nor was it the drink in the little shot glass, Sergi Mukhin leader of an extremist Russian rebel army, was waiting for news, news that would eventually change the way people saw his country, news that would in fact change the world and write his name in the history books of every country in the world, news that would mean the start of his complex and well thought out plan, years of planning, negotiating, bribing and blackmailing all hinged on this single piece of news.    He raised the small glass to his lips and breathed in its aroma, before gulping the contents in one mouthful, a warm glow descended down through his body as the drink made its way to his stomach. He slammed the glass down and expelled a loud appreciating "aaahhhh" sound to confirm aloud his admiration of the alcohol, he leaned forward from his slouched position on two of the chairs four legs, bringing the chair to its normal position, he slowly unscrewed the lid of his bottle of Russky Standart and topped the little glass back up, straightening himself up he checked his watch again, then he tapped a button on his cell phone which was lying next to the bottle of his favourite vodka, the display lit up, illuminating his peering face, nothing to note was being displayed, anxiously his eyes skimmed to the top of the display, four bars and the word Megafon in the corner of the display indicated he had a full signal, so why, why no message.    The meticulously planned operation should have started over an hour ago, had it gone wrong, had he miscalculated the British army, or the ability of his men to carry out this mission, no, impossible, he had even sent his top man to oversee it and ensure its completion General Dimitry Koronov was the best he had, he was the man to train all men, this couldn't of failed, so why no contact ?, He leant back in his chair again to try to calm himself, small beads of cold sweat trickled down his frowning face, he gulped down another shot of vodka, as he placed the shot glass back down, the cell phone which had faded back to darkness suddenly lit up again and vibrated on the red chequered table cloth, gently shuddering on the table. Sergi instantly grabbed the phone, unlocked it with his pass code and read the contents of the SMS message he had just received, it simply said 'Phase 1 successful'. He smiled as he placed the phone back down, grabbed the bottle of vodka and gave a huge swig, filling his mouth with the clear liquid, he swallowed hard and continued his smile, grabbing his things and leaving a small tip, he nods to the barman as a pleasant gesture then leaves.     Walking outside into the cold snap of the St. Petersburg air, quickly awoke his senses, he drew in a long breath to absorb the cold freshness of it, as he approached a gleaming new Bentley continental car, he gave a nod to the driver standing beside it smoking a cigarette, the driver seeing this threw his cigarette on the roadside and hurried around the car to open the back door for him.      Despite Sergi's millions made from illegal drug trafficking and money laundering, a family business he had been involved in from early childhood, and eventually handed the reigns of by his father before his 30th birthday, he has been unable to make anyone of any note sit up and acknowledge his rebel army, and he knew it wasn't just because no one knew who they were or who was funding them, it was because they had achieved little impact in their home country, let alone the world.    In 1991 they were responsible for assisting in the attempted overthrow of the Latvian government, which failed miserably and left Sergi with a very bitter taste towards Latvian people. Being very pro-soviet he wanted his once great nation to be whole again, and he spent the next 15 years amassing a huge army. Unlike traditional urban mercenaries, these men were trained and trained well, he also recruited ex soviet military soldiers and KGB officers to assist him in recruitment and training, paying what would seem a small fortune to them, but an insignificant blip to his great fortune. These men would have joined and helped for a fraction of the money they were getting, they were working to the same ideal as Sergi, bringing back the motherland as a whole.   Sitting in the back of his Bentley slowly being driven back to his mansion on the outskirts of St. Petersburgh, he pulls his cell phone from his pocket, looking up his contacts list he selects Romanov and the hits dial, Romanov his older brother shares in his dream to bring those broken fractions of Latvia and Georgia etc back under the soviet wing.  "I have good news Brother" he said in hushed tones, for although he trusted his driver Dimitry, he did not want to involve him in this plan, the ultimate goal of this plan can only be known by a select few.         "Sergi say nothing more, wiretapping and listening devices are prevalent in my line of work." "You're a politician Romanov, not a spy" he chuckled.         "None the less, it is the job of the press to find dirt on us politicians, and they use any method necessary." "Ok can we meet tonight ?"         "Of course, i'll come to you at 8pm." "Good see you then."    
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