I put on with a motorboat at a dock some miles away from towncenter. Dressed as a homeless person, I got into the town. A bottle of cheap Vodka stretched its neck out of my coat. The thick coat was dirty and frayed at the bottom. The skin cap had a hole at its back. A shot hole...
It is a past century. Russia is under the dictatorship of Stalin. The streets of St. Petersburg are forsaken, only the heavy-armed miliz's march through the russian winter snow. It is very cold and continously snowing for two weeks. I was faking being drunken, while I walk down the streets and I start to sing a russian child song: "The fat giant stands in the west and thinks he's the best, but community will catch him, a single person will never win. All together we are strong and it will be hard to go on, for the lonely ant bear."
A russian miliz orders me to leave the street. Strict orders, in those days, when a black heavly-armored limousine with blinking signal lights drove past me. I stepped back to a side lane, where the agency I work for deposited my tools in a marked trash can. There was a car bomb and a SVD-Sniper. I took the things and started to study the map of the area. Primary targets will meet for a discussion in the Kyrov-Park. Satellite photographs showed the highest building in the area is a radio tower, who is guarded by only one miliz.
I went back to the street. Now I have to proceed cloaked, because a homeless person equipped with an SVD-Sniper would be no longer considered as a homeless person by the russian miliz. I waited for a good moment to proceed through the canalworks. My journey continued now through the veins of St.Petersburg, where all the dirt from the surface is running through. Finally I got to the nearest exit to reach a parked black limousine. The satellite photographs showed that the Chauffeur of the limousine was in the same side lane, like the exit of the canalworks. I silently left the canal entrance to find the Chauffeur pissing. I got a handkerchief with chloroform out of my coat. Several minutes later I was dressed in the clothes of the Chauffeur and I went back to the parked black limousine. I slightly pulled the cap over my face, so the sorrounding bodyguards would not recognize me. As I got into the car, I placed the bomb under the steering wheel and connected the fuze to the igniter. After that I proceeded back to the sleeping Chauffeur, cloaked as always.
"Igor, what do you think about our plan ?" General Stukov was curiously.
At a place, very close to the two, a russian miliz lighted a cigarette.
"Where will you get the ressources for the plan from?" Igor Wassilkov was worried, because his investors were out of money.
"We have friends on the whole world, Fidel owes us something."
Next to a radio tower a nacked miliz with the throat cut was covered by the russian winter.
"Are you serious? My partners demand collateral."
A bold skinny man screwed a silencer on an SVD-Sniper.
"I will give you my admitance on a document, if you wish, but then I want you to promise that there won't be any assasinations by the americans."
The bold skinny man, who has a barcode with the numbers 4 and 7 on its skin, typed in the code into the explosion device on the ground.
"I promise you that, deal?"
The russian miliz lost its cigarette, as a dull shot cut off the air.
"Deal...", Igor Wassilov talked to the dead body of the general, the blood ran out from a head wound over the ear. Then he fled to the black limousine, as fast as his legs could carry him.
When the explosion of a T-model by Mercedes Benz shocked through the empty streets of St. Petersburg, a bold skinny man was singing the last strophe of a russian child song:" Now, the ant bear is dead and the community didn't take long to fulfill, the dicatators will. The lone soul though, never allowed to say a thing, will be able to become the new king...."
by entropie 1998