"Where the hell are we?" Nora asks bewildered, jumping off the car and looking around followed by Hanna.
There's not much to see, to be honest. It's pretty obvious that we're in a massive abandoned industrial park, the big buildings are ruined, windows are broken and there's rusty metal, cars without tires and all kind of garbage scattered everywhere. There're some crop fields on the other side of a railway but I can't see inhabited houses. It's understandable, if there's a village nearby, it'll be behind the hill where the neighbours can enjoy the forest views instead of looking at this apocalyptic mess.
"Around two hours north of Odessa by car, this is the Podilskyi district," Zenaida answers getting off the other vehicle. The doctor moves closer too and my guts relax when I see her, I would've wanted her to come with me in my car to make sure I was there if the police stopped us and things got ugly. I'm a little disappointed, I promised myself that I'd trust Ruby and would try not to behave like a stupid overprotective woman but it's really difficult, damn it. "This is the old factory of a liquefied and compressed gas company but they moved to a new place two years ago, closer to the city port."
"Nobody will disturb us here," I whisper nodding approvingly and Zenaida smiles.
To be honest, I never thought that she'd be able to meet my requirements but, so far, the girl is doing a great job helped by her cousin. Oleg brought me the blueprints of the Bristol hotel and the buildings around it yesterday morning while I was checking Google maps and the weather. The very same evening, I got pictures of the streets along with a topographic map of the city, I don't know where he found that but it's been very useful. His grandmother has fed us delicious and nutritious food while I was doing math in my head and chose a suitable spot, elevated, with good visibility, easy access and that allows me to escape easily and fast.
It was a challenge because buildings and streets in that area form a perfect grid of squares and none of them is too tall, three storeys at best. I can't move too far away from the target because I'll lose sight of the Bristol hotel door and I can't shoot from a car or a lower floor because trees would get in my field of vision. The best spot is the most obvious of them all, unfortunately. At the junction of two streets, diagonally opposite to the Bristol, there's a two-storey old building with a dome-shaped attic. The perfect den for a sniper and, in addition, it'll be an easy shoot, only 100 meters (300 feet)... If I were one of Zhukov's bodyguards, after the initial bewilderment watching their boss lying on the ground with his brain scattered around, that would be the first building I'd search to chase his murderer.
Luckily, it's a big and popular hostel and I'll be able to blend in with a hundred of guests and flee through the backyard till reaching the back street, where the girls will be waiting for me in a van that Oleg found for us. A discreet and grey vehicle, with some scratches on the body so it doesn't look too new, but with a powerful engine that was checked by a skilled mechanic, fake plates and a full tank of gas. It should be enough to reach the Moldavian or Romanian border. And we have a ton of walnut cookies baked by the boy's grandma to snack on during the trip.
"The boss texted back," Tara points at the phone while we walk towards one of the biggest abandoned buildings carrying our backpacks and other equipment that we brought with us in the cars.
"What did she say?" Dakota asks with curiosity.
"That she received the text we sent her," the French pilot answers as if it was obvious and the marine rolls her eyes, heaving a sigh while the girls chuckle around us.
"What did you tell her?" Ruby asks me while I check if the metallic stairs will bear our weight and are safe before we start climbing to the second floor.
"I told Colonel Larsen that we had managed to contact Zenaida, that she'd give us the hard drive in a couple of days, we'd get a vehicle and drive out of the country. I told her we'd text her when we were on our way."
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Sappho's Commando
FanfictionNot all women wear pearls and sensible shoes to work, some wear dog tags and combat boots.
