All Out War by Sean Parnell

Author:Sean Parnell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-09-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 32

Budapest

The Last Drop had started out as a KGB hangout during the Cold War—a spot where the KGB and their underlings plotted against the West over rakija, a popular fruit brandy. Located on the banks of the river Danube, it became the intelligence hub for the Balkans. Now it was owned by a Russian gangster who called himself Johnny Prague.

“This used to be the Wild West,” Percy said with a wave that encompassed the entire waterfront. “Russian rules all the way.”

Steele had heard stories. Back in the 1980s radical Islam was still in the cradle and the top spies were working in and around East Germany. There were rules in Germany, an agreed-upon give-and-take, but the closer you got to Moscow the wilder things became. It sounded a lot like Afghanistan in 2001 and Iraq in 2003. Before the brass arrived. Back when an operative could make his own rules.

“When the wall came down, the Drop became a haven for journalists covering the fighting between the Serbs and Croats. One of the only places you could find cheap beer and girls who wouldn’t try to steal your wallet,” Percy said.

“Sounds like my kind of place,” Demo replied.

Steele had expected some renovation, but for some reason he assumed the Drop would remain unchanged, so when they came over the rise, he realized how wrong he had been.

“Ho-ly shit,” he said.

Renovation was an understatement. The waterfront had been transformed, and in its place was an oasis of neon and shimmering incandescence. Searchlights cut across the horizon, advertising a new club, and the streets were packed with bright red brake lights.

“Yeah,” Demo said. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

“Peace had always been the one elusive commodity the Balkans needed to come into the twenty-first century. Now that they have it, they are taking advantage,” Percy added.

Steele had seen it before—stability brought prosperity, and prosperity brought outside investors. Nowhere was this more evident than on the waterfront, which was in the midst of massive revitalization.

The Drop had undergone a metamorphosis. What was once a somber building with filthy windows and a faded metal sign hanging over a gunmetal-gray door was now a neon-clad butterfly.

The street in front of the bar had been ripped up and replaced with cobblestones and a small fountain. Off to the right, a line of Bentleys and Mercedes dropped off smartly clad Serbs, who followed the red carpet past a pair of searchlights to the mirrored front door. Above it all a neon marquee proudly displayed the club’s new name: komrades and kommissars.

Steele pressed the microreceiver into his ear, wishing he had worn a jacket.

“So, what’s the plan?” Demo asked, handing off the transmitter.

“Percy you stay with the car, Red, you and Phillip are on containment. Demo you are with me.”

Steele checked the pistol one last time and opened the door.

“Hey, mano,” Demo said, getting out.

“Yeah?”

“You got a plan?” he asked, checking the tracking monitor.

“Yeah.” Steele nodded, lifting the case from the backseat. “We’re going to do it live.”

“How many times do I have to tell you—that’s not a plan,” Demo said.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.