Vlado Petrovich lay back on the lounge chair on the upper deck of the freighter. The day was bright and warm, and he watched the wake as the ship plowed forward in the Adriatic Sea to its next destination and a new life for him. After his twenty-five years in the Russian KGB the department was being dissolved, and, rather than being tossed on the street as he had seen it happen to others, he had decided to disappear rather than live in his native country. His financial future was guaranteed. In the hold of the ship were dozens of crates marked as machinery made in Sweden. In truth they were rocket launchers, rockets, chemical warfare weapons, and other munitions that had been stored in a port in Balkania and were for sale to anyone or any nation that could pay in the hard currency needed in his home country. During his trip to Russia two months ago he had helped with the destruction of the records of his old department, including those of the merchandise. He then secretly left Russia, sold the merchandise, and now it was on its way to be delivered for 2,800,000 US Dollars. He already had half as a down payment in a personal Swiss bank account. The other half would be received when the ship arrived, and then he would begin a one-year contract as an advisor at a very comfortable salary plus living accommodations.
In a couple of minutes the man walked directly past Peter toward the clearing. Peter recognized him immediately – Sevetkov – KGB Internal Security - everyone referred to him as the undertaker (grobovshchik) – he never came back with the person he was sent after. Sevetkov walked to the clearing and looked about. Seeing nothing, he returned to the path and stopped almost directly opposite Peter. He took a pistol from under his coat and began to fasten a silencer.
Peter watched and finally stood up. "So, Sevetkov. You decided you needed a gun for our meeting?"
Sevetkov looked in Peter’s direction. He couldn’t see him in the darkness of the woods. "Is that you Comrade? The gun? No. I have it because you never know what kind of animal you might run into in a strange woods." He kept peering into the woods. "Come over here. I have a letter for you from the government. Good news. Everything is being reorganized, and they want you back. A big promotion for you." He reached into his coat pocket with his left hand and pulled out an envelope. "Here’s the letter."
Peter replied, "Read it to me." And he moved to his left behind a large standing tree.
Sevetkov whirled half way around and fired his pistol three times in Peter’s direction.
Peter stepped from behind his tree and shot him in his right shoulder. Sevetkov dropped his gun and fell to his knees; he tried to pick up the gun with his left hand. Peter shot him again in the left shoulder and stepped out onto the path in front of him. "Comrade Grobovshchik, I am going to do the world and Mother Russia a favor and send you to join all those good people you murdered." He shot him in the forehead and the body rolled onto the path.