Aleksandra Markovich (Cypher)
I gave a standoffish grin to Shade, then took a sip of the Vodka. "I was just getting to that." Giving on last cursory glance at the bars drunken patrons I looked back to my new team members. Dim looking group.
"We have two weeks to terminate this man," a photo passed between the two. In it a tall, white, blonde haired male smiles while walking two large shepherds. "Our target, is Fredrick Hanstein, code name Nova, is a wealthy banker in Berlin."
"Doesn't look like our usual target," Shade commented.
"If you'll hold your tongue Pindosy, I'll finish." I growled, letting a few russian words intermix with my english. "As I was saying, Nova here kept his nose clean in early banking deals eventually connecting with some not so nice Jihadists in the middle east. According to intell on this guy, he is the middle man when it comes to getting money to Jihad. He makes the money untraceable, transferring it to offshore accounts where the Jihad can access it to buy what ever they need. Our job is to kill Nova and transfer any dirty money back to our employer. Any questions?"
"Yea," Wraith said taking a sip of his beer "Where's this going down, I'm pretty sure not at his work place in Berlin..." I nodded.
"Our best opportunity is at Nova's house in the countryside, there's no one around except for his wife and precious shepherds. It's also the best place to take a sniper shot and get ahold of the man's laptop." Leaning back, I finished the Vodka shot. If only things were simpler, like back home. I'm tired of leading teams around by the nose. Shade looked over to me, worry creeping over his features.
"What about Nova's wife? Is she a target?" My eyes fell closed behind my glasses, now I have a morality bound American on my team...fucking amazing.
"Tactically speaking no, if we need to she is expendable. That is not a suggestion, it's an order. Our cover is as business investors should anyone ask, equipment will be dropped off at our hide in Berlin. You two can stay at my place for the night, tomorrow we head for the airport." I turned from the agents and the bar, stepping outside. Not looking back to see if they were following, I headed towards my flat, hand still on the weapon in my pocket.