THE KOSTENIUK’S DOUBLE BLUFF – Part 2 & Last

By Bob French

After forty minutes of wandering in different directions, White Beard moved to one of the benches and removed her straw hat indicating that she thought that she was safe. In the meantime, Marco had hired a two-seater dune buggy and was meandering across the dunes.  He checked his watch then slowly made his way over to the blind side of a small dune where White Beard was waiting. It was the perfect cover; they were mobile, could talk freely and would be ignored by everyone as they roamed the dunes. 

Marco approached the subject with care, allowing White Beard to open up and explain what has caused her to possibly compromise herself and all the good work she had done over the past few years.  

The next morning Marco explained to Bazyli that White Beard was frustrated about being past-over for promotion as the next head of the cypher and crypto team. 

“I told her that whilst we had no influence in her workplace, we were prepared to increase her money.” 

“Did she buy it?” 

“Yes, and wanted $600 a month, transferred to her numerous Swiss bank accounts.” 

Bazyli thought for a minute, weighing up the value of the intelligence she had been secretly passing to them over the years, and nodded.” 

The following Tuesday, Bazyli had arranged to meet Freddy Baxter for their usual monthly update meeting, in the lounge of the Castelli Hotel on Ouzounian street in the centre of Nicosia. He had just finished his second coke when Freddy quietly sat down opposite him. Bazyli was about to greet him when a woman eased herself in next to Freddy and sat down. 

“Greeting my dear Bazyli, may I introduce Hillary Milcovitch. She has replaced Bill Worthing who has been recalled.” 

Bazyli quickly gave the young brunet the once up and down and thought that she was too attractive to be a CIA agent, then nodded his approval. 

After some polite chit-chat, Hillary tilted her head back and looked at Bazyli from the bottom of her rimless glasses. 

“Not sure what Freddy here has told you about me, but I sure as hell don’t feel that your team is pulling its weight out here, so if you are thinking that just because I’m the new guy on the block you can change my opinion about sharing intel with you, then you are very much mistaken.  Do we understand each other?” 

Bazyli felt as though he was being lectured at by his old headmaster, but smiled.  He understood the American mentality and quickly shrugged it off.  Then, ignoring her completely, turned to Freddy. 

“I was going to inform you that we have picked up some traffic from Dubai that there is to be an incident here on the Island to coincide with the arrival of a United States warship in October.” 

Before Freddy could respond, Hillary Milcovitch blurted out “And where the hell did you get that from?" 

Bazyli stared at her, then looked at Freddy.  “Sorry Freddy, if we are to hold these meetings in a quiet and calm environment, then I suggest we do it without the young and inexperienced CIA apprentice here.”  He then turned and smiled at the white face of Milcovitch, who was seething with anger at being put down. 

“I will keep you briefed once I glean more intel on the operation.”  With that, he stood, nodded to them both, then left.  Smiling to himself that he had scored an important point on the way to getting access to the intel he so badly needed. 

Aware of the shortage of time, Toni had hired a camera crew from one of the many small companies on the Island, explaining that he wanted to put together a short film about the culture and history of the Island.  He called a meeting a few days later where he had sat down with the camera crew and Nancy and gone over the programme.  He expected her to dress up in various costumes of Cypriot and Turkish village people, tourists from many European countries and the young set. The backdrop was to be the historical buildings, temples, market places, including touristy places of interest.   Bazyli made sure that money was not a problem for Toni and his part of the operation. 

A week later, Marco reported that White Beard had been summons to the Head of Personnel to talk about the incident in Kyrenia. White Beard explained that she told the Personnel Officers that she was depressed; wanted to do something different with her spare time rather than sit in the station bar and drink. The Personnel Officer said that he would get back to her, but in the meantime, she was to take a few days off. 

It was the morning of the first of October when Benni strolled into Bazyli’s office.   “Got a minute Boss?”

          “Sure, what’s on your mind?”

          “I don’t know, I get the feeling that I’m being ignored.  I know there is something big coming down, but I am out of the loop.  Anything I can do to get involved?”

          Bazyli thought for a moment, then nodded his head. “Yes.  Now, this is important and highly classified. Toni is making a tourist film for a British company.  He’s using a well-known actress as his leading lady.  Your job is to chaperone her. Toni and the camera crew will be unaware of your part in the operation, so you must hide in the shadows, but be on hand to protect her at all times.  The most important thing is that no one must know you exist.  Do you understand?  Your performance will decide the outcome of the operation.”

          With a huge smile on his face, Benni left the building.  His first task was to get some form of disguise ready for his covert operation, then track down where Toni and his crew were operating.

          For the next five days, Benni did exactly as he was briefed and Toni or Nancy went about their work without knowing that Benni was close by.

          White Beard had made contact with Marco and informed him that as part of her rehab programme organised by the Personnel Officer, she had been assigned to the British and American Ship Visiting Programme where Expats meet and greet Allied ships and their sailors visiting the Island.

It was Monday the seventh of October when Toni sat down with Nany and the crew and explained that tomorrow, they were going to recce the last day's shoot to the famous Thursday Market in Famagusta. As it was a dry run for the final day’s shoot, Nancy was to be made up and dressed as an Arab woman, complete with hijab and headscarf and was to catch the bus into town.  To avoid the possibility of compromise, the crew were to conduct a recce at mid-day and later, Lucy would make her way into the centre of the market, to arrive at the centre by five o’clock. 

The camera crew’s task was to choose the best spots to cover her as she wandered through the market.  That evening the camera crew would point out to her on the map of the market area where she had to wander. 

          It was near four in the afternoon of Tuesday the eighth, when Bazyli met with Freddy in a Hookah Bar in downtown Nicosia.  He was secretly pleased that Miss CIA was not present.       

          “Sorry it is at short notice, but I can now give you hard intel about the young woman who is planning on blowing up the centre of the Thursday Market in Famagusta.  It will be at five o’clock in the evening on the tenth of this month.”

Freddy Baxter quickly worked out that the American ship would dock at three and by five, the docks and the marketplace would be packed. 

Bazyli then slid across a photograph of Nancy dressed in her Arab costume.  “I should point out that she’ll have a minder close by.”

          Freddy took the picture and studied it for a minute, then nodded. “I shall have our boys pick her up before she gets to the centre of the market, and thank you.”

          White Beard had caught the mini-bus down to Famagusta docks early on Thursday morning, along with several of the British and American staff of the Troodos Signal Station.  They were all eager and excited at a couple of days off entertaining the sailors and to do a little shopping.  As White Beard stepped off the bus, her Personnel Officer called her over.

          “Can you help on the drinks stall at four for a couple of hours?”

          “Of course, anything to help and thank you for allowing me to come, I really do appreciate it.”

          On the outskirts of Famagusta, Toni and his team were going over the last details of the day’s shoot.

          “Now listen.  The marketplace is going to be heaving today.  We have an American frigate just docked so we can expect a lot of partying which I hope will not interfere with the shoot.  Lucy, I want you to catch the bus, just as you did on your dry-run on Tuesday, and wander into the market.  You’ve heard where the crew want you to be and remember, they will be invisible so just do your own thing and remember you need to pace yourself so that you reach the centre of the market at five.”  He paused… “Any questions?”       

          Benni had followed Lucy when she had undertaken her dry-run a few days earlier to Famagusta market and noticed that she paid particular attention in arriving at the centre of the market at five, a few hours after the American ship had docked, so he decided to wait at the market place for her rather than tail her from outside town.  After an hour of waiting in the hot afternoon sun, he decided he needed a drink, but the pub across the courtyard was packed with sailors.  He then caught sight of a make-shift bar set up by some welcoming committee for this ship’s visit and moved towards it.

“Hello, do you fancy a drink?” 

 

“Yeh, thanks.  It’s certainly hot today.  I’ll have a beer if you got one.” 

As he eased himself onto the barstool, he studied the British woman with the short blond hair as she handed him an ice-cold beer.  Benni seemed to have lost track of time because when he glanced at his watch again it was ten to five.       

          Lucy had taken her time wandering through the hundreds of stalls at the market, glancing every now and then at her watch. She was a little early as she approached the centre of the market when of a sudden, she felt a tug on her gown. A small local boy with huge brown eyes stared up at her.  He called to her.

          “Do not waste your time looking at these clothes, come across to my father’s stall, he will give you a very good discount, come, come”

          As she allowed herself to be guided across the courtyard, there was a huge explosion.  She felt the heat of the blast as it threw her and the little boy to the ground.  People began screaming and suddenly there was chaos all around her.  She dragged herself to her hands and knees, shaking her head to try and clear it and wondering where the little boy was.   When she got to her feet she staggered, then stumbled away from the smoke and the screaming.  As she straightened up, she saw Toni rush towards her.  She couldn’t understand what he was yelling at her as everything seem to be muffled.  Then he grabbed her shoulders and ushered her roughly away from the chaos. Within five minutes they were climbing into the mini-bus and heading for the outskirts of town. 

          At a hurried meeting an hour later, Toni paid off the film crew and handed Lucy an airline ticket for Athens, along with a letter of introduction to the Libris Academy of Dance and Performing Arts which Bazyli had organised as part of the extraction plan.  By eight that night he had taken Lucy to the airport, put her on the plane for Athens, then spent the rest of the evening ensuring that everything regarding the operation was deleted or destroyed. 

          It was near nine in the evening when Bazyli received a phone call from Freddy suggesting that they meet at the old Crusader fort on the Paphos seafront in an hour’s time. 

          Freddy was sitting at one of the benches facing the sea, with a tall glass of iced lemon.

          “So glad you could make it. I wanted to thank you for the tip off about the young woman bomber who…..”

          Bazyli interrupted him.  “Sorry but I don’t understand.  I spoke to the port and the local Police.  They both claim that the bomber got clean away, so who was responsible for the explosion in the market?  They say that two people were killed.”

          “Ah. Yes.  Sorry about that.  You see I had to make a judgement call. I could do as you asked and attempt to arrest your bomber and run the risk that her minder would detonate her bomb remotely, killing possibly hundreds of people, or use the situation to solve one of my own problems. You see my security bods had discovered that we had a leak at the Troodos Signal Station.  Apparently, a woman had been supplying valuable intelligence to an unknown power for nearly two years.  Once I had identified the leak, I had to remove her so to speak.  That’s when I came up with the idea of detonating my own bomb just before five o’clock so that the local police and the CIA would think it was your bomber.”        

          Bazyli sat and stared at Freddy in semi shock.

“As it worked out, my judgement call was correct.  My bomb scared off your bomber, thus saving many lives and at the same time removing a spy within my classified area. 

“Who was the other person killed?”

          “Some local chap.  I think his name was Skassoss, Benni Skassoss, a bit of a bar fly by all accounts.  It would seem that he arrived at the market around four and propped up the bar organised by the welcoming committee. A case of wrong place – wrong time. I want to thank you Bazyli for your intelligence work on this.  I can assure you that both Her Majesty’s Government and the CIA are in your debt.  If you’d like to pop over to the Embassy for tea on Monday around four, I feel sure there are a couple of files that you may find interesting.

The End

 Copyright Bob French