Russian. How long can that be? Not long!”
Sasha was right. The Brauhaus Bönnsch was right there. He wanted to find a restaurant that he had never been to before so no one could have anticipated where they
might end up. Jared obviously knew they would be in Bonn. But how? He needed time to
think.
They were greeted as soon as they walked in and were immediately seated.
It
helped that Sasha’s German was impeccable.
“I will say this, Sasha, our miserable restaurants could learn a thing or two from
German waiters. The Germans see it as a profession.”
“Yes, that’s true. I think the Austrians make even better waiters. Do you like venison?”
“Of course. Just no sausages,” said Sami.
Sasha ordered two Dortmunder Union Pils beers and two orders of Hirschbraten,
Eifeler Art.
“So what do you think, Sami?”
“I don’t know,” said Sami. “Maybe I should call the Colombians and get them
into Canada right away. This Anderson is an idiot,” said Sami.
“He is not an idiot. On the contrary, it is extremely intelligent and very powerful.
Don’t underestimate him. The problem with Anderson is that he doesn’t know much
about the intelligence business.
Nothing at all!
Worse, he is a religious zealot.
That
makes him irrational, and therefore dangerous, when it comes to anything that touches on
religion,” said Sasha.
“I can understand Anderson’s obsession with Ziemelis, but why is Reisinger so
interested in killing Ziemelis? I know that they don’t have any official backing from the
White House. I heard another source that said that they are working entirely alone in this
matter and that the White House has no knowledge of their activities,” said Sami.
“I’ve heard those stories as well. With regard to Reisinger, I think he is cooperating as a favor to Anderson. Reisinger is a very politically astute fellow.
He has been in
intelligence since college. I doubt he gives a damn about killing Ziemelis. He is currying
favor with Anderson and Anderson thinks that God wants Ziemelis to die,” said Sasha.
“Reisinger is close to involuntary retirement. He wants to find a comfortable home after
he leaves the CIA.”
“I am glad I don’t have Anderson’s fucking God. Jews don’t have God speaking
to them to do things.”
“Are you serious or is it that you just don’t read the Old Testament?”
“OK, let me rephrase that. My kind of Jew doesn’t have God speaking to people.
For that matter, I’m not much of a Jew.”
The food arrived. They drank and ate but didn’t speak much more for the rest of
the evening. They both had a lot to think about.
Chapter Five – A Distant Wind
Eagle’s Head Island – 26 May 2013
Smolenskiy was highly skilled with the Mir assassination crossbow favored by Speznaz , but now he finally had what he was really longing for. He slowly opened the
aluminum case and took out the rifle.
He never failed to appreciate its dark beauty and
cold elegance. His brother had saved it for him all these years, waiting until Smolenskiy
returned from Afghanistan and eventually got to America.
Smolenskiy drove it down
from Canada just a month ago. It was his beloved Dragunov. He mouthed the name like
he was beckoning a lover.
It used a NATO 7.62 mm round with precisely 3.1 grams of
powder.
He always loaded his own shells. Hot loads were too risky.
Smolenskiy had
considered requesting a .50 caliber sniper rifle, but he wasn’t accustomed to it. Moreover,
he knew that it might attract attention if he tried to sight it in.
As far as he was concerned, there was no sniper rifle like the Dragunov anywhere.
Everyone knew that the Russians were the masters of weaponry, especially rifles.
His
Dragunov could theoretically kill at two kilometers but its reliable accuracy—by an expert—was about 800 meters. It was the wind, not the rifle that sometimes failed him. He
had often done far better than that. The muzzle velocity was a remarkable 830 meters per
second. It was a marvelous tool if it was in
Sasha was right. The Brauhaus Bönnsch was right there. He wanted to find a restaurant that he had never been to before so no one could have anticipated where they
might end up. Jared obviously knew they would be in Bonn. But how? He needed time to
think.
They were greeted as soon as they walked in and were immediately seated.
It
helped that Sasha’s German was impeccable.
“I will say this, Sasha, our miserable restaurants could learn a thing or two from
German waiters. The Germans see it as a profession.”
“Yes, that’s true. I think the Austrians make even better waiters. Do you like venison?”
“Of course. Just no sausages,” said Sami.
Sasha ordered two Dortmunder Union Pils beers and two orders of Hirschbraten,
Eifeler Art.
“So what do you think, Sami?”
“I don’t know,” said Sami. “Maybe I should call the Colombians and get them
into Canada right away. This Anderson is an idiot,” said Sami.
“He is not an idiot. On the contrary, it is extremely intelligent and very powerful.
Don’t underestimate him. The problem with Anderson is that he doesn’t know much
about the intelligence business.
Nothing at all!
Worse, he is a religious zealot.
That
makes him irrational, and therefore dangerous, when it comes to anything that touches on
religion,” said Sasha.
“I can understand Anderson’s obsession with Ziemelis, but why is Reisinger so
interested in killing Ziemelis? I know that they don’t have any official backing from the
White House. I heard another source that said that they are working entirely alone in this
matter and that the White House has no knowledge of their activities,” said Sami.
“I’ve heard those stories as well. With regard to Reisinger, I think he is cooperating as a favor to Anderson. Reisinger is a very politically astute fellow.
He has been in
intelligence since college. I doubt he gives a damn about killing Ziemelis. He is currying
favor with Anderson and Anderson thinks that God wants Ziemelis to die,” said Sasha.
“Reisinger is close to involuntary retirement. He wants to find a comfortable home after
he leaves the CIA.”
“I am glad I don’t have Anderson’s fucking God. Jews don’t have God speaking
to them to do things.”
“Are you serious or is it that you just don’t read the Old Testament?”
“OK, let me rephrase that. My kind of Jew doesn’t have God speaking to people.
For that matter, I’m not much of a Jew.”
The food arrived. They drank and ate but didn’t speak much more for the rest of
the evening. They both had a lot to think about.
Chapter Five – A Distant Wind
Eagle’s Head Island – 26 May 2013
Smolenskiy was highly skilled with the Mir assassination crossbow favored by Speznaz , but now he finally had what he was really longing for. He slowly opened the
aluminum case and took out the rifle.
He never failed to appreciate its dark beauty and
cold elegance. His brother had saved it for him all these years, waiting until Smolenskiy
returned from Afghanistan and eventually got to America.
Smolenskiy drove it down
from Canada just a month ago. It was his beloved Dragunov. He mouthed the name like
he was beckoning a lover.
It used a NATO 7.62 mm round with precisely 3.1 grams of
powder.
He always loaded his own shells. Hot loads were too risky.
Smolenskiy had
considered requesting a .50 caliber sniper rifle, but he wasn’t accustomed to it. Moreover,
he knew that it might attract attention if he tried to sight it in.
As far as he was concerned, there was no sniper rifle like the Dragunov anywhere.
Everyone knew that the Russians were the masters of weaponry, especially rifles.
His
Dragunov could theoretically kill at two kilometers but its reliable accuracy—by an expert—was about 800 meters. It was the wind, not the rifle that sometimes failed him. He
had often done far better than that. The muzzle velocity was a remarkable 830 meters per
second. It was a marvelous tool if it was in
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