Prague 1995

The two blondes chatted and laughed over their lunches. They could have been any of the many actresses who are always in and out of Prague filming movies.

Ivan cleared his throat. “Which one is Fowler’s wife?”

Boris pulled a flask from his battered leather jacket. “The one in the blue dress.”

“Who is the other one?” Ivan asked.

“Some embassy wife. The political counselor’s, I think. Some guy named Davidson.”

ballantine's Day, task Force 125Ivan raised an eyebrow as he turned to face Boris. “Do we own him?”

Boris ripped the flask from his lips mid gulp. “No.”

“Too bad.” Ivan turned to look back at the women. “I wouldn’t mind a shot at her.”

Boris slapped Ivan’s head. “Hey, we’re here to do a quick hit, not kidnap and rape. Nothing happens to the Davidson bitch.”

Ivan backed against the door and held his hands up. “Okay but it’s a waste of a great lay. We could get ten, maybe 20 thousand American for her on the market.”

“Probably, but our orders are clear. Understand?”

Ivan reverted back to his native Russian. “Da. Da.”

Boris watched as the women paid their check and stood to go. They hugged each other and left the cafe to walk to their cars. The tall one walked into a shop next to the cafe while the buxom one walked to the blue Mercedes in front of the cafe. “Okay, now!”

Ivan jumped out of the car and ran across the street. He slowed to a walk as he reached the woman who had just slipped into the driver’s seat of her car.

He pulled a gun from his jacket.

She screamed.

The sound of automatic weapon fire ripped through the crisp Czec afternoon.

ballantine's day, task Force 125

Ballantine’s Day. Coming Soon.