Pseudo (2 page)

“Sir, you do realize that I will still be recognizable by name?”

“Of course I’ve thought of that which is why you will be traveling under another passport and name. You will be using a British passport under the name ‘Sophia Hayward’...when you register for anything there, you are to use this name and passport as your official ID. Of course, you will need to carry your US passport with you securely in case you need it. We are also providing you with a CIA ID under ‘Sophia Hayward’ in case you need special access and such.”

“As I covered earlier, there are three leaders of the group. From everything we’ve gathered one is Hispanic, one is German and the other is Russian. The head of the three seems to be the Russian but we’ve nothing confirming neither that nor anything to confirm their identities. Neither witnesses nor past associates of possible suspects have been able to confirm anything. They are possibly ex-government or have insiders as some of the work they’ve done could only have been accomplished by people that knew what they were looking for,” said Mr. Madison.

He put three small folders on the table for Elizabeth to take. “The latest information that we have from intelligence is that El Diablo plans to access to one of the largest US government funding accounts, pull funds down into Mexico through the National Bank of Mexico and while pulling those funds through, transfer them to an unknown foreign account. Your job is to track them down before they accomplish their ‘transaction’ and bring them in with evidence collected. Part of this is to carry out the operation in a very low profile manner so as to not draw attention of civilians to what has been occurring. You surely understand that this would harm the security they have in national banking systems and then we would really have a problem on our hands,” said Mr. Madison.

“Okay, I understand what needs to be done. The first action we are going to have to do is to locate them, once located we then have our men bring them in quietly, right?” said Elizabeth as she played it out in her mind.

“Right, Duarte, right. But, you must confirm to me that you understand the importance of this. Do you?”

“Of course, sir, I understand. The American people will not have confidence in the government if any band of criminals can just steal money without being caught.”

“Right Duarte, however, keep in mind that the American people will never even know of El Diablo’s plot as it will never happen and you are not a CIA operative but simply ‘Sophia Hayward’ on a historical tourist vacation in the great Mexico City,” said Mr. Madison with a smile on his face.

“Right, sir, I get the gist of my role.”

“Good, Duarte, it’s now 7:00am, your flight to Mexico City is waiting...well, you will be flying from Langley to Miami and then you will be flying American Airlines into Mexico City under the identity of Sophia Hayward - we cannot have you arrive there under any other name. Realize that they may already be tracking you. We don’t know what they know about you or why they are interested in you but we will find that out once you’ve got them.”

“Okay, I’m set and ready to go,” replied Elizabeth quite cheerful for having been up most of the night.

“Good luck, Duarte. We will meet here for debrief once your operation is complete.” Mr. Madison shook Elizabeth’s hand.

CHAPTER THREE

Elizabeth’s plane took off at 7:30am from the small CIA airfield in Langley. It was a small propeller plane on which she was the only passenger. After two and a half hours being jostled in the tiny plane, she landed in Miami around 10:00am. Elizabeth could not have been happier to hit the tarmac of Miami International and pull up to the gate. She hated small planes.

Her connecting flight took off two hours later – 12:15pm she was on the flight to Mexico City. Elizabeth tried to get some rest but thoughts kept running through her mind. “Why would they know about me?” she kept asking herself. Finally she resolved that once she was into action in Mexico, all the pieces would come together just like any other operation she had done in the past and they might have just found her name on a list somewhere connected to the CIA and be using to distract anyone on their tail. She finally nodded to a light sleep.

CHAPTER FOUR

Dmitry Sidorov sat in his office in Moscow looking out the window at his view of the Red Square. “You see the problem with the world today is that there are too many people who are useless. They are useless because they think they are useless and never try to make something more of themselves or their lives as the bureaucracy of every government in the world pushes them down. Unlike me - I am a god in my own world, above all governments. I do what I please and have everything I want. I used to be like those kids begging on the street but I knew I was different,” said Dmitry to his secretary.

Dmitry grew up in a poor family. His father worked the market selling used watches, jewelry and other trinkets that he found around or stole. This was a cover for getting clientele for Dmitry’s mother who he ran as a prostitute for wealthy clients that came by from time to time to get a good deal on a Rolex or other such items. They would buy the item, his father would show them a picture of his mother (who was beautiful) and that was it, deal was done. One day Dmitry was home early from school, as he was feeling sick - only he wasn’t sent home, as the teachers had no sympathy or compassion - he ditched school. As he entered their small two story apartment, he heard creaking coming from his parent’s bedroom upstairs. He stopped to listen and he distinctly heard his mother screaming. He immediately went to the cabinet where his father kept his gun and grabbed it. He had been out shooting many times with his father and had good aim. Dmitry ran up the stairs, burst open the door to find a strange man on top of his mother. Without any thought he held up the gun and shot the man in the back twice. The man died within minutes. His mother was screaming at him, why he was home from school, what he had done, etc. Dmitry was only staring forward in complete shock - he could not even hear what his mother was saying and could not respond to her.

It turned out the man Dmitry shot was the younger brother of the head of the Mafia in Moscow. Dmitry’s father knew this and tried to cover up all traces that would lead to their family. His efforts were all useless as the Mafia controlled more than half of the city - including the KGB and other government bodies. Within two weeks of Dmitry shooting his mother’s “client”, his parents had been hunted down and murdered. Dmitry ran away from his home, hoping he would never be found. An orphanage picked him up, which was more like a prison than anything else.

Dmitry stayed in the orphanage from age ten to thirteen. At thirteen he found a way to escape and took his opportunity. Living day to day, begging from passersby in the Red Square and prominent Moscow streets, he made living enough to eat. Occasionally other homeless people would take him under their wing as well.

Life went on like that until one day Dmitry met a man dressed to the nines with a large ring on his finger and a fur coat. Dmitry had been doing his usual run of the Red Square when he met this man. He was the head of the Moscow Mafia, Alekxander - the man whose brother he had killed and who ordered his parents murder.

This man took a liking to Dmitry - he saw something different in him. He told Dmitry: “Listen boy, do you want to live the rest of your life like a mongrel on the street? Or do you want to rise above all else? Above the common man, the aristocrat and the government?” said Alekxander holding his hand out to Dmitry who was sitting on the ground in the snow. And that was it; Dmitry was taken under the wings of the Moscow Mafia.

From age thirteen to twenty Dmitry apprenticed under Alekxander and his best men. He rose in the group under the constant protection of Alekxander. Despite his success in the criminal underworld, Dmitry had a yearning for a different life. His mother had always told him he was a good person and he should not follow in his parent’s footsteps. That meant trying to have an honest life doing legitimate work, whatever it was. “My son, you are going to come to do great things. Be honest, kind and work hard and you will have everything you desire,” he recalled her telling him when he was just a young boy. Crime and dishonest dealings were the way of Russia as Dmitry grew up – not only in the streets but also all the way through high society and governments. Dmitry made a promise with himself he would change his way of life and be legitimate. However there seemed to always be “one last deal,” or “a great opportunity” which kept him criminal.

Just after his twentieth birthday, Dmitry announced to Alekxander that he wanted to go off on his own and establish another unit of the mafia. Alekxander told him how foolish he was. “Dmitry, Dmitry, do you think that I invested so much of my soul into you in order to have it all wasted on something like that?” said Alekxander as he shook his head.

“Alekxander you have been like a father to me. Everything I am I learned from you. I have a vision - a vision to create an international level of Mafia - a Mafia that rises above all others. My loyalty is of course to you and I would not rise above you but pay my respects to you,” said Dmitry, as he looked Alekxander in the eyes with complete solidarity.

“Very well, Dmitry, you make your way out there. But remember, you make a mess it is yours. I will not be there with my men to clean it up,” said Alekxander putting his hand on Dmitry’s shoulder.

And so, fifteen years later, here was Dmitry, head of his own international Mafia and ruler of his own world - of course still holding Alekxander as a deity and paying him “respects” - very valuable “respects.”

It was in his venture to establish his Mafia that Dmitry found Max Liebermann - eight years after he left Moscow. Dmitry had been traveling through Berlin when he came across Max. Max was working a newspaper stand as a cover up for his dilettante drug cartel. He tried to jip Dmitry when he was buying a newspaper. Needless to say, Dmitry did not appreciate that. Rather than have him beat up or killed as he had been known to do in the past, Dmitry held a gun to his side and brought him to his car. Once in the car, Dmitry started to interrogate him. “Little imbecile punk! What the fuck do you think you were doing by trying to cheat me like that? Do you know what I normally would have done with someone like you? Do you?” said Dmitry quite enraged and trying to make a point.

“Look, I don’t know who the fuck YOU are or why you think you can just abduct me like this but I have some friends who would not like that,” replied Max nearly shaking with fear.

“Listen, boy, you clearly don’t know who I am or what I can do. I want to make a point to you: never try to cheat someone in your profession. It just might be the wrong guy on the wrong day and then you’ve had it. It’s unprofessional. If you’re going to be criminal, you need to learn to work above the system, not below it. Police will always be on the lookout underneath them but not above them,” said Dmitry as he lit a cigarette and offered Max one - testing his trust level as if he refused then he did not trust him. Max accepted.

“Tell me something, Max. Tell me what you really do and how that has gone for you.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Max, I know a lot of things. I know your name, I know you’re an orphan and I know what you really do. You start talking and showing some trust and I will tell you more of who I am. I am thinking of having you join me but I never rush into things.” This was the beginning of Max Liebermann’s entry to the real Mafia world.

Dmitry got Juan Duarte in much the same “recruitment” style. It was just one year after Dmitry had Max join him. They were at a gentlemen’s club in Miami. Juan was in Miami on business. He had previously been the leader of an efficient drug cartel in Colombia. Dmitry had heard of him as he had created a name for himself in the underworld as the only man known to phase out of a cartel and move on to live a normal life with all the riches accumulated during his cartel days.

Juan had told his wife Elizabeth that his grandfather was a very wealthy man and left him a generous inheritance and that is how he lives so well. She had no idea Juan had been a drug lord, not to mention that he was currently involved in a criminal group again. Juan thought he would be able to get by for the rest of his life without Elizabeth ever finding out. He loved her, so he thought, but was not willing to be honest. There were days where he missed having different women and so he was unfaithful when he had the chance. Those chances came quite often as Juan traveled frequently for business. Juan was a version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. A respectable businessman and husband by day. A treacherous husband and criminal by night.

The truth being he was a pauper growing up in the streets of Bogota with his parents and got involved in a drug cartel, moved his way to the top, decided to go live a “normal” life in the United States and turned his whole operation over to another drug cartel leader. Nothing ever traced back to him. Juan then moved on to be a business entrepreneur in the United States. His primary business was a company manufacturing dental products.

Dmitry decided Juan was the one that he wanted to be his third man; he figured three close associates was a safe operation to have at the top with others below. This arrangement made them harder to track and to take out the top. Dmitry tracked down Juan when he knew he would be out of town. He flew to Miami and knew the exact club Juan frequented and in fact knew the owner who owed him a few favors in return for having bailed him out more than once - monetarily and otherwise. 

Dmitry arrived at the club, asked the bartender where Juan was seated - he was directed to the front near the stage where there were beautiful Latino women “performing.” Dmitry sat at the VIP table right next to Juan’s. Dmitry pulled a waitress near him, gave her a thousand dollars, told her to go to Juan and offer him a private dance in the back. The woman went right over to Juan and tantalized him until he followed her to the private dance rooms.

Just as the woman was sitting on Juan’s lap about to undo his pants, Dmitry came in the room. He walked right up to the woman, grabbing her by the arm and told her to get out - stuffing another thousand dollars in her bra. The woman immediately left.

“Who the FUCK are you?” exclaimed Juan in complete surprise at what just happened.

“I’m a butt lover and came to get some…fuck you asshole! Do you think women like her just come up to you and start giving you something like that without having been substantially paid first?” said Dmitry.

“Well, I don’t know you and you just walked in here like you own the place, gave that girl one grand to get out of here - uh, it’s a little concerning!” exclaimed Juan as he straightened his shirt and pants.

Dmitry sat down across from Juan at the table in the room. “Listen, Juan Duarte, I know who you are. I know your past; how you got away from it and the ‘normal life’ you pretend to be living now. I came here to give you an opportunity to join me in my business,” said Dmitry with a smile on his face.

“Oh, really, and what kind of business is that? Drugs - forget it. I am done with that life,” exclaimed Juan. “So, whoever your name is, if that was what you came here for tonight, you can leave and I will pay another girl to come in here and finish the job you nicely interrupted.”

“Juan, my business is not drugs - it does involve drugs at the lower levels sometimes. It is far more than that and has a greater purpose or mission in the grand scheme of things.” Dmitry went on to explain how he operates. “So, there you have it Juan. I have told you everything. Realize that if you choose not to join me and I EVER hear one word about what I told you, I will hunt you and your family down and have you all decapitated and shipped to Colombia to be buried with your ancestors in the drugs fields of the country,” said Dmitry with a face stone cold in resentment. “Oh, and that woman that was in here - she’s waiting for you when you leave the club. She will go to your hotel with you and do anything you want her to do, all night long. That is regardless of accepting my offer or not, so do not worry about not getting any tonight my dear Juan,” said Dmitry.

Juan thought for a few minutes and said, “Okay, I will accept your offer - but you do know who my wife is and who she works for?”

“Yes, we know all about that. That is part of what you bring to the table. You’re least suspect with that connection,” replied Dmitry with a smile on his face.

“Okay, then we have a deal,” said Juan reaching his hand out to shake Dmitry’s. “One thing, do you know what she looks like?”

“Who? Your wife? No, to be honest I don’t,” replied Dmitry.

“Good. Let’s keep it that way. I want your agreement you will never try to find out what she looks like, contact her or have anything to do with her.”

“Alright, I give you my word on that which I will keep unless you betray me.”