"In that case," I said, 'let's do a drive-past. We need to get a look at the blocks. Somebody bring a video camera.
"Better not go dressed like this." Whinger pointed at his DPMs.
"Good point, Whinge."
A quartermaster figure produced sets of thin grey overalls which smelt of mothballs, and soon we were rolling northwards in two cars: my seW Ivan (who had a camera), Anna and the driver in one, Whinger, Sasha and the Wolf-man in the second.
"Tell him we don't want to get too close," I warned Anna.
"What d'you call too close?"
"Nothing under a couple of hundred metres, anyway.
By now it was fully light, and rush-hour traffic was pouring down the main arteries into the city centre. Heading outwards, we could move freely, and it was only five minutes or so before Ivan said something, pointing ahead and to the right.
"Those are the buildings," Anna translated.
"The target's in the left-hand one, as we're looking."
Two slender blocks rose out of a wasteland. They were made of pale-grey concrete, relieved by small square panels of sky blue ranged along the balcony-fronts on each of the sixteen floors. At ground level the entrances were imposing: on the end of each building was a grandiose porch with square pillars, under which cars could drive, and marble facings round the doors. Either side of the doorway into what we'd named Block A stood a guard in grey fatigues armed with a sub-machine gun.
Round the base of the buildings some attempt had been made to establish a garden or park: there were patches of grass and a few saplings had been planted, but further out much of the area was still bare earth, no doubt awaiting development. On the approach road leading to Block A numerous cars were parked end-on at forty-five degrees to the kerb, including a high proportion of Mercedes, BMWs and Audis.
The road to Block B came in from the far side and had far less transport sitting on it.
I glanced at Ivan and saw that he was already filming.
"Ask him to get close-up footage of the roof-line," I said and in response to Anna's request he tilted the camera upwards.
"Just to confirm," I said.
"The target's in this near block."
"Correct."
"And the apartment's facing this way?"
"Correct again."
"In fact we can see the windows now."
"Yes. The fifth floor down from the top."
I was looking for sniper vantage points, and immediately saw one: a third high-rise block of the same model, but with green panels rather than blue, maybe 200 metres away on our left.
"Can we drive back down the far side of Block B over there, behind it?"
"Not very well." Anna pointed.
"You see that long wall?
Behind that's a railway line and marshalling yards. There's no road in that area."
"What about those roofs just over the wall?"
"Those are railway offices."
"OK.".
A kilo metre or so beyond the site we made a U-turn and came back for a second pass. Again I concentrated, fixing details in my mind. The run confirmed my earlier impression that a direct daylight approach from ground level would have been disastrous: there was no cover close to Block A's entrance, and a gun-battle would have led to many casualties.
Back in the Omon briefing room we found architectural drawings of Blocks A and B awaiting us. As Whinger and I went into a huddle over them, mugs of sweet black tea beside us, we had no difficulty coming up with a plan.
"When we were ready, I signalled to Ivan, and we began an informal presentation.
"I don't know if they want to make notes," I said to Anna, 'but maybe you'd suggest it."
Wolf-face let fly a few more disparaging remarks, but the others ignored him, and Ivan produced a notebook and pencil.
"Right," I said.
"First thing, the assault should go down at night, after last light. If the Mafia meeting's due to start at 2100, I suggest 2130."
I had to take it slowly, phrase by phrase, letting Anna translate in between. For a few exchanges the delays irritated me: then I realised that they were useful, as they gave everyone time to take in what I was saying.
"Next, there will be three assault parties, designated Red, Blue and Black. Red and Blue will enter Block B and cross on to the roof of Block A by ladder, as outlined. Red will deploy on the roof of Block A and prepare to abseil down the outside of the building. Blue will enter the building via the fire exit on the roof here then descend the fire stairs and position themselves to assault the apartment from the corridor.
"Black will deploy on the ground by vehicle. Their job will be to drive up to the front of Block A and secure the building by capturing or shooting the two guards we saw. Timing will be critical. They'll need to reach the door at the moment the assaults on the flat go in not before.
"If possible, we'll position sniper commentators in Block C the green block. From there they'll be able to observe the windows of the target flat and report movements. When everyone's deployed, we'll use EMOE to blow the door and at least one window from both sides of the flat and simultaneously.
The actions and timings of all three teams will be coordinated by radio.
"I'll be the leader of Red team.
"Whinger here will lead Blue team. Red and Blue will each consist of the leader and three men. Black team will be commanded by an officer nominated by Ivan. For com ms purposes, the snipers will be designated Green."
Ivan asked Anna a couple of questions in Russian, and she gave him answers herself Then she said, "He is afraid control will be difficult because of the language."
"I've thought of that. If we can have you at the command centre, there'll be no problem. You'll be able to translate and pass things on. The only English commands your colleagues need to understand will be the two I'll use at the end: "Stand by, stand by" and "Go! Go! Go!"
Anna immediately translated these. '"Stand by" is Orushiye k boyu," she said.
"That means literally "weapons ready". Go is posh ii. Easy!"
Ivan smiled briefly as he nodded his agreement.
I went on to emphasise that Whinger and I were not in the business of killing Russian citizens, whether Mafiosi or otherwise. All we would do was get the assault teams into position and blow the door and windows: it would be up to the Russians to clear the flat. Again, there was a murmur of agreement. I could see that Wolf-face was still ticking with irritation.
"Ask Ivan, please: what are his intentions? Is he aiming to capture Keet or kill him?"
As Anna translated, a faint smile spread over Ivan's face but it did not extend to his eyes. The only answer he gave was, "It depends."
"In any case," I went on, 'what we need immediately is a forward mounting base. Those railway sheds behind the wall any chance of your taking one over?"
Ivan sent a colleague to make a telephone call. I began going into the nitty-gritty: ladders, ropes, explosive charges, weapons, com ms I said that Whinger and I would carry pistols only, for self-defence in an extremity, but added that the Russian members of Red and Blue teams should take Gepards with short magazines as well as their pistols. The guys in the Black team should have silenced weapons, to whack the ground-floor guards with minimum disturbance.
Within a couple of minutes an answering call came back: inside the railway complex, it said, were the offices of a company operating steam trips in a joint venture with a Swiss tourist firm. The place had modern communications, and also a large, empty engine shed in which we could assemble our kit and lay on some quick training.
Once Ivan had nominated the men for each of the teams , we had only a few hours in which to sort them out. My three Nikolai Two, Igor and Misha were all built like brick shit houses and well versed in abseiing.
The railway office and shed turned out a big bonus. By midday Ivan had sent the normal staff home, taken the place over and set up a command post and control centre in the main office, with a dish aerial on the roof. The engine shed was high enough for us to put in some abseil practice: with ropes anchored to the steel girders under the roof, we had about fifteen feet clear below us.
Ivan's video showed quite a few possible anchor-points on the roof of Block B the tops of lift-shafts, ventilation pipes and so on and I foresaw no trouble there.
From our study of the architects' plans we knew that the flat had two bedrooms and a living room ranged along the southern balcony face, down which we'd be coming. On the other side, along the internal corridor, were the kitchen, hallway, separate lavatory, a bathroom and a big storage cupboard. To us on the outside and to the snipers positioned in Block C the s windows were the first four from the right-hand end on the twelfth floor. I named them Okno Odin, Okno Dva (Window One, Window Two) and so on, numbering from the right. One was the first bedroom, two the second, three was the top half of a door which opened inwards from the balcony into the sitting room, and four another window in the same room.
Ivan agreed that we should time the hit for 2130, in the hope of catching the big players in the sitting room. Therefore we decided to blow the window-door and go in that way.
Whinger, meanwhile, was sorting a route for his team to enter via the fire-escape door on the roof, and come down the emergency stairs to position themselves outside the flat entrance.
I tried to impress on Ivan how easy it would be to create a blue on-blue to have the Red and Blue teams firing at each other.
But in fact the layout of the flat gave us two natural territories in which to operate. For Red, the balcony team, the obvious field of fire was the sitting room; for Blue, entering from the corridor, the hallway would be the main theatre. We made it a fundamental rule that Red team members would only engage targets remaining in the sitting room and not fire at anyone running through into the hall. Blue would be free to fire into the hall or either of the bedrooms.
Of the three guys allotted to me, I was happy enough with Nikolai and Igor. The one who worried me was Misha, one of the relics of SOBR. Sasha had put him in my team because he'd done abseiling, but our experience so far suggested that he had a low IQ, and wasn't all that co-operative either.
No good worrying about that now.
I took the team through our sequence of actions again and again. We'd abseil down to the balcony, aiming to establish ourselves on it thirty seconds before the raid was due to go in.
We'd need to be extremely careful in our movements: not to clank our weapons against the metalwork of the balustrade, not to let a boot or elbow bump on a window. For the last few seconds we'd crouch against the wall of the flat, under the windows. As soon as I confirmed by radio that Whinger's team was in position, I'd call, "Stand by, stand by... Go!" then crack off the door charge and follow it instantly with a stun grenade.
Seeing the blank looks on their faces, I started to flap a bit. I knew what standard they'd reached, and it wasn't as high as we needed. A fully fledged SAS assaulter is so highly trained that his reactions are instantaneous. These guys were nowhere near that level. Nevertheless, since Igor was the sharpest of our team, I detailed him to be first into the room.
"The second the grenade blows, you're through." I told him via Anna.
"When you go in, stay on your feet and move to the left. None of this rolling around we've been practising.
"You other two, give him covering fire through the blown out window. Aim outwards into the corners of the room. Don't fire straight at the door into the hall, otherwise rounds may go through and hit your own guys coming from the other side."
When Igor protested about being first in, I told him he didn't need to worry. The godfathers inside would be deafened and blinded by the stun-grenade.
Suitable ladders took a bit of finding. There were some in the Omon stores but they were too short and heavy for our purpose.
It was Sasha who had the idea of borrowing better kit off the nearest branch of the fire service. They came up with an extending set of four three-metre sections, made from aluminium, well machined and snugly fitting. The overall length was eleven metres, and since the gap between the corners of the buildings showed on the architects' plans as nine metres, we would have a one-metre overlap at either end.
Once we'd held several practices at assembling the ladders and crossing gaps on them, we bound the ends with foam and masking tape to reduce the risk of making a noise, and handed them over to another team. These two guys, who appeared to be television technicians, drove to Block B and took the ladders up the fire stairs on to the roof, under the pretence of realigning the aerials.
By 4:00 everything was in hand. Omon had discovered an empty apartment on the thirteenth floor of Block C and installed a pair of snipers, armed with Dragunov 7.62mm rifles fitted with telescopic sights. Their brief was to watch for movements in the target flat with binoculars and report any change to the control room. When the assault went down, they were to engage anyone who tried to make a getaway by coming out of a window and escaping along a balcony.
At 4:30 Whinger and I got Sasha to drive us back to Balashika. Rather than handle Russian detonators and det cord of uncertain vintage, I wanted to pick up some of our own. At the base we found everything in order: the lads back from a good day in the open, and no further scares. We had time for a quick meal and a cup of tea.
As I sat down to eat I said to Whinger, "I don't think very many Mafiosi are going to come out of this alive."
By 5:15 we were back at the railway command centre for a final run-through of the plan. I made up my explosive charge for blowing the window a ring of det cord taped on to a sheet of expanded polystyrene about fifteen inches square, to which I'd fitted a short broom-handle and explained to my three how, once we reached the balcony, I'd apply the polystyrene gently and silently to the glass of the door, holding it out with the end of the handle, before I cracked off the charge.
I emphasised that, once we had launched the hit, we must go quickly through with it. If anyone saw us crossing between the buildings, for instance, it was possible that the alarm could be raised. Once we were established on the roof of Block B, we couldn't afford to hang about.
My big worry was the weather. All afternoon the wind had been getting up, and by 8:00 a gale was blowing and driving blasts of rain before it. In a way it was good, as the roar of the storm would cover any small noises we might make; but I also reckoned there'd be hellish turbulence around the edges of those tall buildings.
Everyone was nervous myself and Whinger no less than the students. As before all operations, our watches seemed to stop or at least slow down to a ridiclous crawl, the hands hardly moving.
The snipers came on the air with the occasional bit of news "Green One. Curtains being drawn in Window One.. . Light switched on in Window Two' and by 8:05 all four windows had been curtained off. That suited us fine.
As we rehearsed the action sequences again and again, the only person who seemed unmoved was Anna.
It felt very strange to be dressing in Russian kit. Their flak jackets were heavier and stiffer than ours, and made us pretty clumsy. My helmet fitted my head inside but still felt very big.
Realising that it would be difficult to control my explosive charge on its panel while I was crossing on the ladder, I had Nikolai lash it flat to the small of my back, with the handle pointing up behind my head like a short antenna.
When I glanced across at Whinger I was amazed: he looked every inch a member of Omon, with his features hidden under a black rapist's mask, and only his eyes and mouth showing.
For the tenth time, it seemed, I checked all weapons and magazines.
At last it was time for the off We went out on foot into the cold, swirling wind through a gate in the railway compound wall, over the wasteland. The odd street lamp was burning in the distance, but the area we crossed was good and dark. With us we had one guy in civilian clothes, to range ahead as a scout and radio back a warning if he met anyone on the stairs. The covert com ms system was working well: in my earpiece I could hear the Black team lining itself up in the van they'd arranged for transport, and the occasional remark from a sniper. With the finger and thumb of my right hand I settled the throat mike more comfortably in position.
In the underground car-park of Block B we waited while our scout started climbing.
"Red and Blue at foot of stairs," I reported, and immediately Anna's voice answered, "Vas pony al Khorosho."
A few moments later the scout called to tell us that all was clear as far as floor five, so both teams went scuttling up. After another pause there, we took the next eleven flights straight, and arrived at the top panting.
Out in the open, the wind was formidable. There was no point in telling people to watch themselves. They wouldn't have heard me, anyway, and anybody with the slightest sense of selfpreservation wasn't going to start pissing about in a place like that.
All Moscow, it seemed, was spread out at our feet. Immediately below us the patches of wasteland were dark, but to the south blazed an immense galaxy of lights, and the main thoroughfares were like brilliantly illuminated rivers down which flowed endless streams of headlamps.
The ladders were lying where the pseudo-TV crew had left them, and we had no trouble locking the sections together. But when we tried to raise the whole length upright, the force of the gale nearly lifted two of us off our feet. Quickly I got a second rope round the top of the ladder and secured our ends to vertical standpipes. That way, we could exert enough friction to lower the whole bridge gently into position. Once it was down, we lashed the near end to a rail, in case it got blown overboard after we were across; even though the ladder was lightweight, it wouldn't have improved the health or temper of anyone it landed on after dropping sixteen storeys.
By now I was shitting bricks.
"Wish to fuck I'd never volunteered to lead," I said in Whinger's ear.
"I'll go if you like," he said good old bugger that he is.
"No, no. I'm fine really."