Agent of Change

Prologue

May 21, 2012
Midtown Manhattan, New York City

As the late Spring sun shone brightly on the city streets, delicate wisps of steam evaporated off the damp asphalt.  Pedestrians crowded at street corners waiting to cross the road. Early morning traffic filled the air with the sounds of millions of tires on pavement, and millions of engines pumped exhaust into the sky.  Twenty-six stories above street level, Mikhail Reznov leaned out over the balcony of his penthouse, admiring the uncomfortable situation on the ground from a comfortable distance.  Mikhail had considered New York home, or at least one of them, for over four years now, since his employers had deemed him capable enough to take over the East Coast branch of their American offices.  He always maintained a permanent residence in the city, although with his frequent business trips he rarely had the chance to enjoy the use of his own home.  Mikhail had one such business trip today, a drive out to a supplier in New Jersey.  He was disappointed to have to cut his leisure time short, especially given the good fortune he had last night.  He looked back through the open balcony doors, into his bedroom.  The beautiful woman he had met last night was still sleeping, the sheets draped gently over her body.  Mikhail took a moment to look at her, considering what he would say to her when she woke up.  The previous night Mikhail and a dozen members of his staff had gone to a nearby bar.  Whenever he had a night off in the city Mikhail always brought his people to the same bar.  The owner, an older man named Orlan, had been a key source of information for Mikhail in his earlier years, when he was still trying to prove his worth to his bosses.  Mikhail was known among his colleagues for his loyalty, both to his superiors and those under him.  Orlan had done much for Mikhail, and in turn Mikhail felt he owed Orlan something, and buying a few drinks every couple of weeks was the least he could do.  For some reason Orlan had taken the night off from the bar, which Mikhail had never known him to do.  He thought for a moment about calling the man today, knowing that Orlan was always happy to talk to his best customer.  He quickly put the idea aside.  After his business was done today, Mikhail had to catch a flight to Morocco.  He would just have to see Orlan the next time he was in the city.  For now though, Mikhail had a gorgeous young woman in his bed, one that he was not eager to send away.  He moved towards the bed, reaching a hand out to her shoulder to gently wake her.  His fingers had barely brushed against her skin when a faint buzzing drew Mikhail’s attention to his pants, which lay exactly where he took them off last night.  He reached into one of the pockets and removed his phone.  The screen read Nikolas, the name of Mikhail’s top aide.  Mikhail took the ringing phone into the living room across the hall before answering, hoping not to wake the sleeping girl.  Although he would most likely never see her again, Mikhail did not wish to leave her with the wrong impression of him; that of a man who takes a business call with a women still in his bed.
“Nikolas, what is it?” Mikhail said curtly.
“Mikhail, have you gotten rid of that woman yet?” Nikolas replied. 
“No, she is still asleep. I didn’t want to wake her yet, we had quite the long night.” Mikhail said suggestively.  He hoped his tone would defuse Nikolas before he became agitated.
“We have an important meeting in Jersey in ninety minutes.  You should stop thinking so much about her comfort and start thinking about our business.” Nikolas said.
“Thank you Nikolas, I’ve got it under control. Get everyone ready, and bring the cars around.  I’ll meet you in the lobby in twenty minutes.” Mikhail said.
“Yes, Mikhail.  Just remember, we have work to do, so get rid of her quickly.  If everything goes right, management is going to have a lot to say to you after this meeting.” Nikolas said just before hanging up.
Nikolas and Mikhail had become good friends while working together, and Mikhail always considered him such, although he would still prefer if Nikolas questioned his judgement less and followed his orders more.  He was right about one thing though; after today’s meeting, Mikhail’s bosses will almost certainly see fit to promote him yet again.  Saying goodbye to such a lovely woman would be a small price to pay for the reward he would soon receive.  Mikhail set his phone down and moved back towards the bedroom.  As he walked in he saw the woman he had met last night sitting on the edge of the bed, with the sheet wrapped around her body.
“Who was that?” she asked, apparently having heard Mikhail’s phone call.
“It was work.  I’ve got an important meeting to get to.” Mikhail said, letting his genuine disappointment come through in his voice.  There was no reason to let her think he was trying to get rid of her.
“Oh, I bet you do, mister businessman.” She said playfully.
She stood up from the bed and let the sheet fall to her feet, her naked body glowing in the bright sun coming into the room.  She stepped over to him and pressed her body against his, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him seductively.  Mikhail had not told her much about his job, hoping to keep their encounter casual.  Even so, the women could see he was very successful, no matter what it was he did.  At the bar where they met he had ordered expensive drinks for dozens of people all night.  They took his Rolls-Royce, driven by his personal driver, back to his penthouse in midtown.  Mikhail’s wealth was apparent to anyone, and the woman could imagine the kind of commitment it would take for such a young man to make it as far as he had so quickly.
“I wish we had more time,” Mikhail said as he slowly pulled away from the woman, “but I really must be going soon.  I can have one of my driver’s take you wherever you need to go.”
The woman looked up at him,
“I know, I could hear you on the phone.  I don’t want to hold you up.  I have to be getting to work too,” She said, “maybe I’ll see you again sometime?”
Mikhail knew he probably wouldn’t, but didn’t want to say as much to a woman he had brought back to his home and who had slept in his bed with him.
“Maybe.  I had an amazing night with you, I wouldn’t mind having that kind of fun again.” Mikhail said.
The woman laughed softly and said “Well Mister Reznov, I bet you just can’t wait to see what I have in mind for next time.”
“Then it’s a date.  I’m leaving the country for business this afternoon, but next time I’m in New York I’ll call you.  How does that sound?” Mikhail said.
“You’re leaving the country? That’s too bad, we were just getting to know each other.” she said sarcastically, before giggling and turning around to retrieve her clothes from the floor.  This woman was different than most that Mikhail met.  Often they were disappointed when he had to cut their time together short, and even more so when he told them of his business trips.  An attractive, wealthy, generous man always attracted many women, although he was in no position to have some kind of relationship, and so made sure to only spend time with women he knew were only looking for casual flings.  Even so, when Mikhail took them home they very often decided that perhaps he’d make a good boyfriend, and weren’t happy to hear that he had brought them home only to tell them the next day that he was leaving the city.  But this woman seemed to have no interest in keeping him around. She hadn’t even skipped a beat when he told her we was leaving the country.  In fact, it seemed like it wasn’t even Mikhail she was interested in, but rather the experience she could have with him.  This had attracted Mikhail to her even more than her long black hair, her smooth pale white skin, and her effortlessly beautiful smile.  As Mikhail watched her dress he found that he was the one wishing for her to stay, not the other way around.  After putting on her bra and panties she slipped into her tight dark jeans and pulled her shirt over her head.  Mikhail walked over to his closet and grabbed a grey business suit and dark red tie from inside.  He quickly donned his suit.  The woman had grabbed a small brush and hair tie from her purse and was in the process of fixing her hair as Mikhail walked from his bedroom into the bathroom.  He examined himself in the mirror, making sure he looked as professional as possible for the supplier in Jersey.  When he returned to the bedroom the woman had put her shoes and sunglasses on and slung her purse over her shoulder.
“Don’t you clean up nice.” She said to Mikhail, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder.
“Not nearly as nice as you.” Said Mikhail.
“No, I look like a mess,” she said, looking at herself in the full-length mirror on Mikhail’s closet door.
“Darling, I’ve been all over the world and you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the good fortune to meet.” Said Mikhail.  It was a line he had used before but it had never been so true as with the young woman in front of him.
“Good fortune?” she asked, ignoring his compliment. “You don’t think it was fate that we met?”
“In my line of work you tend not to believe in fate.  I think whatever happens is just a combination of the right people in the right places at the right times. Or perhaps wrong, depending on how you want to look at it.” Mikhail said.
“And how do you look at it Mikhail? Was I in the right place at the right time?” she asked, grabbing him by the collar and kissing him again.
“I’d say everything about you is right, but then again I don’t know a lot about you, now do I? Maybe next time we can share some of our secrets.”  Mikhail said after they had pulled away from each other.
“Maybe, maybe not.  Right now you’ve got some important business to take care of and I have to catch a cab.” Said the woman, as her and Mikhail walked down the hall towards the penthouse’s private elevator.
Mikhail gave her a smile and a slight shake of his head, then hit the button for the elevator.
“A train? That won’t be necessary.  I told you, one of my drivers can take you where you need to go.  It’s the least I could do after throwing you out so quickly.”
“No, thank you, but I work at an office in Queens, I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.  Really, I don’t mind taking a cab.” She said.  The elevator doors slid open with a hiss of hydraulics and the two stepped inside.  Mikhail hit the button for the main floor.
“It’s no trouble at all.  I’m the important businessman after all.  Besides, it isn’t like I’d be driving you myself.  You wouldn’t be asking me, I’d be asking one of my men, and I’m sure none of them would complain.” Mikhail said.
“I do appreciate it, but I’ll be fine.  I kind of enjoy the ride anyways,” Said the woman.
“If you insist,” said Mikhail, “but next time I see you I better not hear about how I made you take a cab all the way to Queens.”
“You seem pretty certain there’s going to be a next time.  What happened to you leaving the country?” she asked, and Mikhail knew that somehow he was the one sounding desperate.
“Let’s just say I have a good feeling about you.  After all, we were able to meet once, maybe fate will see fit to put us together again.”  Mikhail said.  The elevator doors opened into an opulent lobby.  Post-modern artwork adorned the walls and plush brown leather couches sat around gleaming black coffee tables.  Several people that Mikhail recognized as his neighbors sat at various couches, reading the paper, drinking tea or coffee, and talking quietly with one another.  At the far end of the lobby a group of men stood in a circle, not speaking.  Mikhail and the woman stepped out of the elevator.  Mikhail looked over to the group standing by the doors.  Nikolas looked back at him, and after noticing the woman standing by Mikhail, raised his arms, tapping on his watch with his left index finger.  Mikhail raised a finger.  Nikolas nodded and looked away.
“I thought you didn’t believe in fate.” Said the woman.
“I normally don’t, but I can make an exception for you.” Mikhail said, putting a hand on the woman’s left cheek and kissing her softly.
“I had fun.  Let’s make sure to do it again,” she said, “maybe when you’re not so busy.”
“You have my word,” said Mikhail, “I’m sorry I’ve got to run.”
“Don’t worry about it.  Call me.” Said the woman. She turned away from Mikhail and walked towards the side door.  Mikhail watched her go, then as the door closed behind her he walked towards his people by the main entrance.
“Mikhail, everything is ready to go.  The drivers are bringing the cars around now.” Said Nikolas.
“Good, I want everyone to be on top of it today.” Mikhail said.  He looked around at his employees as they nodded briskly in his direction.  They were all more than competent enough to accompany Mikhail to this meeting.  He had complete confidence that the day was going to go just as planned, a confidence that was boosted by the presence beautiful woman he had just watched walk away.  Mikhail’s men walked out of the lobby as their vehicles pulled up to the sidewalk out front.  Nikolas moved to the back of the group to have a private word with his boss before they left for the meeting.
“So did you enjoy your night Mikhail?”  Nikolas asked.  Mikhail knew the question was more about the woman he had been with than anything else, and decided not to be coy about.
“I enjoyed her very much Nikolas.  There’s something about her, she’s not like most other women.” Mikhail said.
“I can see that.  It’s the first time a woman has made you late to a business meeting.  I certainly hope it’s the last time as well.” Nikolas said.
“That may depend on whether or not I see her again,” Mikhail said jokingly, hoping to get a rise out of his favorite employee.
“Then for your sake I hope you don’t.” Said Nikolas sternly, taking Mikhail’s bait.
“Relax Nikolas.  I’m not going to retire and move to the tropics with her just because of one night together.  The only thing I’m focused on now is making sure today goes smoothly.”
The pair walked up to Mikhail’s personal car, the silver Rolls-Royce he made sure came with him on every business trip, so long as there were paved roads to drive it on.
“I believe you Mikhail, but it’s my job to make sure you can do your job, and business always comes before pleasure in our line of work.” Said Nikolas, opening Mikhail’s door for him.  Mikhail got into the back seat, Nikolas following him in and closing the door behind him.
“She’s just a girl, Nikolas,” said Mikhail, “the worst she’s done is make me a few minutes late.  What’s the harm?”

Across the street the woman who had slept with Mikhail Reznov watched as he got into the car they had driven home in last night.  His right-hand man Nikolas got in next to him and closed the door.  The young woman reached into her purse and pulled out her lipstick.  First she took the lid off and applied a fresh layer, then she replaced the lid and flipped the chrome cylinder over.  She popped the bottom off of the container, revealing a small white button.  A small light next to the button was lit up green.  The woman turned the rim around the button until the green light turned red.  She glanced up at the Rolls-Royce.  The driver had turned on the engine, and the brake lights had come on.  The woman waited a moment for the brake lights to go off.  As the wheels began to turn and the car pulled away from the curb the woman pressed the white button.  All at once gouts of fire blew out the windows, smoke and dust billowed into the sky; there was the sound of glass shattering as the front windows of the hotel and the cars nearby exploded inward from the shockwave.  The woman felt the wave of heat and pressure wash over her. Small pieces of plastic and metal and glass rained down on the area, and then it was over.  Men piled out of the cars ahead of and behind the Rolls-Royce.  They nearly fell over each other to reach the now burning vehicle.  Flames were licking the roof of the car, and smoke was pouring out the broken windows.  The woman watched for a moment as the men made phone calls and walked around frantically.  Bystanders were calling emergency services, and a crowd was starting to gather around the decimated car.  The woman grabbed her cell phone from her purse.  She dialed a number then waited as the phone rang.
“Hello, you have reached the home of John Miller.  Please leave a message, and I will get back to you as soon as possible.” The pre-recorded male voice said flatly.
“Hi John, it’s me,” said the woman, “I wanted you to know everything is going great here, I just finished up and I’m about to catch a ride back to the house.”  The woman hung up.  Sirens could be heard approaching the bombing from multiple directions.  The woman turned away from the scene and walked calmly around the corner.  After walking several blocks she hailed a cab.  The driver pulled over and she got in the back seat.
“Hey, you know what the hell is going on back there?” the driver asked.
“Not a clue. Sounded like some sort of explosion.” Said the woman absentmindedly.
“No shit.  New York, crazy place right?”  Said the driver.  The woman ignored his remark.
“Ok, where to miss?” Said the driver after a moment of silence.
“United Nations Headquarters, quickly please.  I’ve got to get to work.”



Chapter 1:

18 Hours Earlier
United Nations Headquarters, New York City

A young woman sits alone at a long wooden table in an indistinct conference room, an older man standing next to a large screen at the end of the room displaying photos, transcripts of phone calls, and various other pieces of information.
“Your target is Mikhail Reznov,” says the man, “For the past several years he has directed the majority of American operations for a Russian crime syndicate known as ‘Friend of the People’.  According to a credible source, he arrived in the city this morning, and is preparing for an important meeting with one of his weapons suppliers.  Up until now he has not been considered a serious threat.”
Elizabeth looked down at the dossier marked ‘Operation Red Menace’ on the table in front of her, memorizing every feature of the man named Mikhail Reznov.  He was in his mid-thirties, with a slightly receding hairline but youthful eyes.  In the picture he wore a well-tailored black suit, with a cell phone in his right hand and a briefcase in the left.
“I take it this meeting has something to do with the sudden threat reassessment.”  Said Elizabeth, flipping through pages of information on Mikhail Reznov.
“Absolutely correct, Agent Hall,” said the man, nodding approvingly.  “The supplier is a well-known black market arms dealer, who has recently come into possession of forty computer guidance systems for long-range payload delivery platforms.  Mr. Reznov has plans to buy them wholesale, then auction each one individually to anyone with the means to make use of the devices.  If Mr. Reznov is successful, there could soon be dozens of groups in possession of this technology.  Technology that can be used to guide a missile to any location on the globe with pinpoint accuracy.
“We have a team assigned to intercept the arms dealer en route to the meeting location, but Mr. Reznov is ambitious and determined.  It is possible that he already has buyers interested in the computer chips, and he can’t afford not to come through.  We must eliminate him or he will likely find another avenue to acquire the guidance systems.”
Elizabeth continued to look through the dossier, reading over the brief psychological profile compiled to aid her in her task.  The man was a notorious partier, known to pick up young women for casual encounters.  This was why Elizabeth was selected for the operation; getting close enough to kill this man required a certain set of skills and abilities, one of which was the ability to put a man at ease, to get him to let his guard down completely without arousing any suspicion.
“So why aren’t the Russians handling this?” asked Elizabeth, curious about why a Russian member of a Russian criminal enterprise would be killed on American soil.  “Surely they won’t appreciate not being given the opportunity to eliminate him themselves.”
“Normally you’d be right,” said the man, “but in this instance the situation is made more complicated by politics.  ‘Friend of the People’ has financial ties to certain Russian opposition leaders.  The Russian government feels that direct intervention on their end may result in retaliation against officials perceived as responsible for the attack.  They have asked us to take care of it instead.”
The man then used the laptop on the table in front of him to bring up a new set of photos on the wall display.  They showed a series of luxury cars, including a silver Rolls-Royce, black Lamborghini, and dark blue Mercedes.
“This brings us to the method of elimination.  Mr. Reznov always travels with a significant security detail.  Neutralizing him personally would be unwise.  Our source is a man named Orlan, the owner of a bar frequented by Mr. Reznov when he is in the city.  He assures us that Mr. Reznov, as well as his staff and accompanying fleet of luxury vehicles, will be visiting Orlan’s establishment, a high-end sports bar in Midtown, later this evening.  After you gain his trust, your first step will be to identify which vehicle is Mr. Reznov’s personal transportation.”
The man called up another image on the display, showing what appeared to be a purple make-up compact.  Next to it was a chrome lipstick applicator.  Elizabeth recognized the pair of innocuous items as Agent gear, one a high-yield explosive device, the other a radio-frequency detonator.  She had used these same devices multiple times before; they were standard-issue for female Agents on many disruption and neutralization missions.
“After you have done so, you must plant an explosive somewhere inside the car.  When you are safely away from the scene, and you are certain that Mr. Reznov is inside the vehicle, you will detonate the device.  There should be nothing to link you to the incident.  Furthermore, this method is favored by ‘Friend of the People’ themselves.  This fact, along with several well-crafted information leaks, should be enough to persuade the group’s leadership that this was an inside job.”
The man turned off the display and closed the laptop.
“We trust your judgement in deciding the best moment to execute the final stage of the assignment.  However, it is vital that you complete the operation by tomorrow morning.  Once he realizes his supplier has been compromised he will suspect something, and our job will become that much more difficult.  If he escapes the country, Agent Hall, we will have allowed a grave threat to global security to go unchecked.  Do you understand the parameters of this operation?”
“Completely, sir,” answered Elizabeth without hesitation.
“Good.  You have four hours to review the file, gather your gear, and otherwise prepare,” said the man.  He gathered the laptop and moved around the table towards Elizabeth.  “When you are ready you may head to the bar by taxi.  Upon completion of your mission you will call the cold line and report your status.  Good luck, Agent Hall.  We’ll see you back here tomorrow.”
At that the man opened the door to the conference room and walked out into the hallway.  The door shut slowly and silently behind him.  Elizabeth stayed at the table, reviewing the information in the file.  After she was satisfied she had absorbed all the data on her latest assignment that she could, she too left the room, carrying the file with her.  On her way to the the locker room she passed a small metal door that resembled a hotel laundry chute and dropped the file in.  The chute led to an industrial incinerator; every file an Agent reviewed was dropped into the chute, or one of the others like it placed throughout the sub-levels of the building.  After the file was destroyed there would be no evidence of any mission to assassinate Mikhail Reznov.  Through a long series of hallways and past a series of fellow Agents working on their own tasks, Elizabeth stepped through the thick metal door of the women’s locker room.  She walked past rows of lockers until she reached her own; she retrieved her mission outfit from the locker.  Changing from the knee-length black skirt and white blouse she had been wearing into the late-night casual wear she’d be wearing for the mission, Elizabeth stored her own clothes in the locker.  The equipment necessary for the mission, including the bomb and detonator as well as a pre-paid cell phone, were in an envelope on the bottom of the locker.  Elizabeth transferred the contents of the envelope into her purse.  On her way out of the locker room,  a tall athletic blonde walked in.  She wore a beige uniform and hat belonging to a local delivery service.
“Once again, Elizabeth, I play messenger girl and you get to party,” she said jokingly, admiring her colleague’s informal attire.  Elizabeth had worked with the woman, an Agent named Angela Wilson, many times before.  She considered Wilson a friend; more importantly a competent partner.  Elizabeth could guess the delivery uniform had been a cover for an up-close recon mission, although Agents weren’t permitted to discuss the details of their assignments.
“It’s hard to party when you’re infirm.” Said Elizabeth, referring to a minor illness Angela had caught on the pair’s last mission together, a hostage rescue op in Columbia.  Until she completely recovered she was limited to participating in low-risk, low-intensity recon and surveillance ops.
“Very funny, Hall.  Don’t complain to me when you’re out the action because of a rare South American virus.” Said Angela, walking past Elizabeth to her locker.
“I’ll remember that.  Get well Wilson, see you out there soon.” Said Elizabeth before leaving the locker room.  She wound her way back through the many hallways, coming to a small bank of elevators.  The two hundred foot ride up to the ground floor of the United Nations Headquarters went by in seconds.  Once she stepped off the elevator, Elizabeth came out through a guarded door secured with a biometric scanner and keypad.  The elevator room was hidden in one of the back maintenance hallways;  hidden so well that most of the people who worked in the building every day never knew it was there, let alone the sprawling underground training facility and command center it led to.  The complex, and the clandestine intelligence agency it housed, were a part of the United Nations Special Warfare Group.  Elizabeth Hall had been a sanctioned UNSWG Agent for four years, and on every assignment had proven herself to be an especially capable asset.  Today would prove that yet again.  Elizabeth used her prepaid cell to call for a taxi as she moved into the central atrium of the UN building.  Once outside she found her cab already waiting for her.  The driver asked her where she was heading and she told him the location of the bar.  On the way there, Elizabeth closed her eyes and recalled the information from the briefing earlier.  In her head she pictured the face of her target; imagined the way she would speak to him, the way she would look at him and touch him.  She considered how she would draw him in enough to take her home.  Finally, she imagined the feeling of pressing the button that would kill him.  Despite what Angela had said, Elizabeth also saw herself as the messenger; it was her job to deliver punishment to Mikhail Reznov, one he wouldn’t even see coming.