The Spy Devils by Joe Goldberg (top rated books of all time .TXT) 📕

granted immediate access to the Bondar network, but Imp was surprised. Pavlo’s network, he discovered, was an impressive display of computer expertise. Imp encountered a sophisticated ring of security partitions. After a few hours, he was finally inside the files and retrieved the information they needed.

The other Spy Devils noticed Imp’s struggles and quickly used it as a way to mock the self-absorbed kid.

“You can all eat shit,” Imp said. They let out an exhausted laugh.

“This is going to take forever. This clay will never come off,” Beatrice said, rubbing spirit gum remover across her forehead.

“Beatrice. Disguise. Technical. She has had a long couple of days,” Bridger said to Peter.

Beatrice was at the table looking into a mirror, vigorously wiping her face with tissues and creams. A dozen bottles, jars, puffs, tissues, and towels were spread out in front of her. A wet brownish wig was in a bag on the floor. Milton was next to her, making sure all the trash was collected for disposal.

“Would you rather be tackling the makeup right now or spend some more time kissing our pal here?” Imp jerked his thumb toward the screen. Beatrice looked at him, flipped him the finger, then turned back to the mirror. Milton grinned.

The door opened, and Peter saw two large men walk into the room.

“Olegs! Bridger said.

“Spy Devils?” Peter asked.

“Friends of the Devil.”

Bridger exchanged a handshake with each man. “You guys were great.”

“It is not too hard, as you saw, Mr. Bridger,” said Oleg Koval.

“We thought he might shit his pants,” Oleg Rudenko added.

“I thought he had,” Imp said, as he tapped on his electronics.

“We are available for you any time,” Rudenko said.

“Great. The money is already in your accounts. Once we are gone, you can scrub this area and pack up the equipment and put it back in storage.”

“Yes, sir, and thank you. We appreciate your generosity,” Koval said. “You are a valued customer.”

“Make sure you tell Lana and Anna hello. And those kids of yours.”

“Thank you,” they said in unison, as they walked out the door.

“I love Oleg,” Imp said.

“Which one?” Milton asked.

“Oleg,” Imp said with emphasis.

“He’s the good one,” Milton agreed.

“Time to check on another one of us,” Bridger said, as he took out his mobile phone and launched the Signal app.

As it connected, he hit the speaker button and put the phone on the table.

“Beast? We are about ready here. What’s your status?”

“Status? It is still dark if you can’t tell. I’m in my room. The street lights are on. I can see cars parked everywhere. The usual Kyiv parking chaos. Same cars and scooters as before, generally. I will head for the restaurant when it opens at six—in about forty-five minutes. I will have a better view of the sidewalks and the street.”

Since they departed Cyprus, Beast had worked solo gathering intel on the Bondars and their facilities. Traveling as a businessman, he stayed in a boutique hotel next to the Ukraine Standard Bank, a prime location to surveil the bank and adjacent residence location. He noted the times and which doors they used to enter and exit the buildings. Beast observed the cars and drivers that parked or passed by the bank more than twice. He memorized who was on the streets each day and at what times, looking for patterns of plain-clothed security. He reported his intel back to Bridger three times each day.

“Okay. We will leave when you are in position. See you soon.”

“Roger. I will enjoy my morning coffee.”

Imp looked up. “Can I put in an order?”

The phone was silent.

“Jesus, what does it take to get a little coffee around here?” Imp let his complaint be heard as he turned back to look at his glowing laptop screen.

“Snake, I want you on a scooter,” Bridger said.

“How about the Devilbots?” Milton asked, his face lighting with the hope that he could release his toys.

“Keep one over the bank and the other one handy, just in case. I don’t know where the safe house is yet. When I do, I will let you know.”

Beatrice patted Milton’s arm as he wiggled in his chair, unable to hide his delight in hearing the positive response.

Not knowing the safe house location irritated Bridger.

“Demon, you take the Toyota and run counter-surveillance to the bank. Imp, you ride with Demon. Find a spot on Dilova Street and get your eyes and ears on that bank. We will take the Skoda. Milton and Beatrice. You load the bots into the van and leave. Where are you setting up?”

“There is a parking lot for a skate park south of the nearby sports stadium secluded in some trees,” Milton reported. “We scouted it out yesterday. There wasn’t much pedestrian or car traffic. I am sure there is nothing at this hour.”

“Good. Get a Devilbot in the air right when you arrive. There won’t be much time.”

“Got it,” Milton said.

“Beast should be nearby in support if anything happens. Imp, you have Pavlo’s information on the bank security and layout?”

“Yes, but getting surveillance into his little RF-protected ferret den will take a few minutes. He has disabled all computer cameras and sound. I am blind there.”

“Pavlo stump you again, Imp?” Milton asked.

Imp ignored the comment. He hit his keys hard like the finale of a Beethoven piano concerto. Then he slammed his laptop closed and tossed his hands in the air. “Done.”

“I want everyone alert. This is ripe for mistakes. Peter, Pavlo, and I will get the case. I call Chapel, get the address, and head to the safe house. When I get the address, I want you on your horses checking it out. We hand over the case to Chapel. Then we get the hell out of here and go on vacation.

“Everyone ready? Beast, we are on our way.” Bridger disconnected the call and pocketed his phone. He put on a baseball cap, some glasses, and darkened three days of stubble he had grown.

“Put these on.” He tossed Peter a floppy worker’s cap and a pair of tinted sunglasses.