Monday, August 29, 2016

NATASHA IVANOFF



THIRTY THOUSAND EMAILS



PART FOUR



 

As the four Range Rovers left the airport runway, some reporters jumped in their

cars and tried to follow. But while the gates of the runway area allowed the four FBI

vehicles to slip through, they snapped shut entrapping the gaggle of reporters trying to

give chase. Destination Wichita, McConnell AFB, a hundred and five miles southwest

of Kansas City, seemed safe enough for Natasha and Vince to regain their bearings.

A network of Russian spies who had broken the FBI intelligence system nation

wide, felt otherwise. Twenty miles west of Kansas City, tucked away in a non-descript

large barn, ancient in appearance, a stolen Bell Super Cobra twin engine attack

helicopter had left at the same time as Natasha and Vince’s caravan cleared the airport.

Forty miles out of Kansas City, the helicopter took up position above the highway

to Wichita, approximately 400 feet above ground, waiting for its prey. Armed with 5 inch

Zuni rockets and a 20 mm M197 Gatling gun, the Cobra took full use of the moonlight

and dropped down to firing range. .

Inside the third Range Rover,

“What kind of weapons does this British beast carry?” Vince said

The driver answered,

“Mounted to an arm that extends from the rear of the Range Rover, we carry a

M240 machine gun. Are you familiar with it?”

“Yes, Yes.” Vince and Natasha both answered.

“My name’s Robert,” the driver said, are you worried about an attack?”

“I’m always cautious,” Vince said.

“I am trained as a killing machine,” Natasha answered. “How quickly can the

M240 be operative?”

The driver turned to Vince, “About 45 seconds, are you both former Seals?”

“Might as well think that.” Vince hugged Natasha around her shoulder.:

The highway opened up to wheat fields on both sides, the light from a full moon,

gleamed off the black Range Rovers. Vince leaned up and talked to the driver,

“We’re the third vehicle in this caravan, we need to be last, signal behind you and

have him move up.”

Vince somehow either heard the helicopter above them or sensed danger. Either

way, the caravan changed places..

“Now drop back another hundred feet.”

“Can you tell me why?”

“Never mind, do it.”

With the last sentence, the noise of the attacking Cobra became louder. The third

vehicle in the caravan disappeared in an instant h a fury of fire from a direct hit of two

Zuni rockets. Vince climbed over the back seat,

“Move it, I’m going to take the wheel. He swerved off the highway nd looked for

cover in the wheat field. The other two vehicles went in opposite directions. Vince

realized a second Range Rover was dead meat and prayed it wasn‘t his. They screeched

to a halt and deployed the .M240.

“Do you want the first round, Natasha?”

. “No, I’ll feed, you fire.”

The sound of the Super Cobra increased and Vice with a range of 880 yards had

only a moment to save a second Range Rover. He saw the copter hover for a few

seconds to fire two more Zuni’s. At that moment Vince fired about three hundred rounds

at the Cobra. They had made a fatal decision to hover and fire. The copter exploded in a

mass ball of fire. The Zuni’s plowed through an acre of wheat and exploded about two

hundred feet from one of the Rovers.

Out of his peripheral vision, Vince saw the pilot miraculously ,leap from the

copter and hit the ground a safe distance away. He was still on fire and managed to roll

through the wheat and put the fire out. Natasha sprinted across the field to see what

information she might squeeze out of the dying pilot.

Natasha drew closer, the pilot managed to pull his pistol out. Instead of firing at

Natasha, he placed his own gun to his ear and pulled the trigger. So much for

information. He was burned so badly, she hesitated to be sure he was dead and then

walked back to Vince. The other Rovers circled Vince and Natasha as the FBI chief,

Brian McCloud stepped out,

“The two of you saved all of us from certain death. Will you escort to Mc

Connell, we’ll follow.”





..

Tuesday, August 9, 2016

NATASHA IVANOFF



THIRTY THOUSAND EMAILS.



PART THREE



 

 

 

The flight cabin hummed with activity with Natasha broadcasting “Mayday, Mayday,” and Vince filling her in on what went on in the rear of the plane. Finally an answer from the Kansas City Airport,

“What‘s wrong?:”

Natasha handed the phone to Vince,

“We had an attempted hijacking here but it was thwarted.”

“Any medical emergency?”

“Yes, both pilots are dead. two federal agents shot, three agents dead along with six dead hijackers.”

“Sounds like a war, let me connect to the airport manager, but I’ll continue. What about plane condition and who’s flying it?”

Natasha quickly jumped in.,

“I am Natasha Ivanoff. I have a multi engine active license.”

‘Plane condition please?

“Windows blown out, oxygen masks on. Request permission to lower altitude.”

“I have you, see new coordinates, Drop slowly to 18,000 feet and switch auto pilot back on. We’re clearing you in, approximately 45 minutes.”

Vince quickly entered the main cabin and made an announcement. A doctor approached him,

“These agents won’t last an hour, how soon can we land?”

“Forty five minutes according to Kansas City. Are you sure the other three agents are gone.?

“Unfortunately yes but one hijacker is still alive.”

“For God’s sake, keep him that way.”

“All I can do is try.”

As the plane approached the airport, ground control briefed Natasha on the landing procedure. She responded calmly as he ran her through all the instruments, length of runway and wind direction. The plane made a dead approach and at two thousand feet, the auto pilot switched off. All traffic had been diverted, emergency equipment stood by.

Wheels touched the runway once, airborne, touched a second time, airborne for a moment and then the plane settled to the runway. Natasha flew a plane four times the size of any she had any experience with. She reversed pitch, used the engines for brakes, swerved once slightly on the runway and then eased to a perfect stop close to the end of the runway with only 120 feet to spare.

Emergency equipment, medical ambulances waited as the door opened. Swat teams entered first, then medical. The landing was broadcast with a live feed to Fox News as well as major networks. So much for cover for Vince and Natasha, as they remained on the plane while the agents and one hijacker were attended to. Natasha hesitated in front of the main cabin and waved to the grateful passengers as they exited next..

Two FBI agents entered the plane,

“Miss Ivanoff, Mr. Donahue, please stay on the plane with us for a moment. A request from the state department, it’s for your own safely. We need to get you away from the reporters who are here. You’re going to be national news and heroes. Unfortunately, according to the state department, we are to take you immediately to McConnell Air Force Base for security purposes.”

“How about some identification from you.”

The agents showed their papers to Vince. As the plane emptied, the bodies still remained. Four more agents entered the plane door and circled the couple as they descended the steps to waiting cars, four of which had their engines running.

The chief of then Kansas City FBI introduced himself,

“Brian McCloud,” he said. “after what you’ve been through, we’re taking extreme caution in traveling to Wichita.”.









.

.

Monday, August 1, 2016

NATASHA IVANOV



THIRTY THOUSAND EMAILS



PART TWO



 

Natasha held Vince close in the plane rest room,

“Our being together has been arranged by the Joint Chief Of Staff, and the Secretary Of State, high level stuff“.

“You mean we‘re dealing with the Russians? Pardon me for asking.”

“I understand the confusion, you see I’m a double agent working directly for the State Department.”

“Why did you need to put yourself in mortal danger?”

“Vince, thank you for being protective. I know you’re a retired Navy Seal with a brilliant record, but I’ll tell you why. I’m the one that hacked the Democratic National Committee.”

“Did you do that to gain more trust?”

“Exactly, but not completely. For over a year, I’ve been building a cyber juggernaut aimed at America, under direct orders from Putin.”

“Did you leave some vital parts out?”

“You’re catching on quick but my cover’s about to be blown and that’s why you’re here, to protect me while I finish my work.

“But I’m by myself, you know.”

“There are six men aboard this flight to help you. All have proven their worth.. Now we need to get out of here. I’m turning the scanner off. Make some noise and try to put some passion in it.”

Between the moans and the slams against the walls, both Vince and Natasha were laughing like school kids wondering what the plane’s passengers were thinking. With his tie at 30degrees, his shirt stuffed halfway in his pants and his hair all messed, Vince left first and calmly walked back to his seat, with 150 sets of eyes glued on him. Natasha followed with the same experience.

“Now make this look good,” she said as she cuddled, bit Vince on the ear and ran her hands all over him. Hw responded gladly until they heard an angry voice,

“I’m the last one to knock love,” the stewardess said, “but you two are causing so much disturbance on this plane, the captain has suggested if you don’t stop, you’re going to be handcuffed and ride in the baggage department, Savvy?“

“Is it air conditioned?”

“Mr. Donahue, that’s not at all funny.”

They settled from their antics and although Vince was dying for more information, he knew he couldn’t discuss it now with Natasha. His mind ran at full speed.. ’Why Fox News and why me?’ he thought. ‘This kind of skullduggery can’t be revealed to the public, even to Fox News. There has to be more to this than she’s telling me. And why am I totally captured? Do I miss the action I was trained for?‘

His mind snapped back to attention with the first shot. And the second shot brought all the Adrenalin pumping. Three men, obviously hijackers ran through first class. One spoke in broken English,

“Stay in your seat or you‘ll die”

Two of them shot the lock off the pilots door, entered and gunfire erupted immediately. More gunfire rang out in the business class. The third gunman was distracted for a moment and Vince moved like a panther, delivered a killing blow to the highjack’s neck, took his gun and cautiously crept to the open cabin door. One of the hijackers in the cabin looked up and was greeted by a bullet between his eyes from Vince’s gun. The second burst through the cabin door, firing his weapon. Vince dropped him with one shot.

Meanwhile, in the rear area, firing had ceased. Vince entered the flight deck, both pilots were dead, the plane had reverted to automatic pilot. Running to the rear, death was everywhere. One man stood, Victor leveled his pistol,

“Raise them,” he said.

The man did so,

‘I’m a federal marshal, there are six of us, the other five are down as well as three

hijackers.”

. The stewardesses checked all eight men, the hijackers were dead, three of the agents also, and two wounded.

“Who is flying the plane,” the marshal asked, “the automatic pilot is not on, I can tell.”

Vince ran through the aisle to the flight deck, the captain had been moved from his seat. In his place, Natasha sat, flying the plane.



“My God, do you know how to do this?”

“I am a licensed pilot, multiple engine but I’m not familiar with this large a plane.”







. .

Saturday, July 30, 2016

NATASHA IVANOV



THIRTY THOUSAND EMAILS



 

 

 

Dead on his feet, Vince had covered both political conventions for Fox News. He settled back in his international. flight from Philadelphia to Australia, with a stop in Los Angeles and one in Hawaii. The seat was empty next to him and it surprised him because the flight was full. His first class ticket was courtesy of Fox and they gave him twenty grand as a bonus and three weeks off.

The plane‘s engines came to a roar but then settled down as the cabin door reopened and a vision entered. She was twenty five at the most, auburn hair with a figure to kill for. He checked her outfit, it was a habit of his and he guessed about eight grand worth with a two thousand dollar purse. His extra seat was the only one left and she slipped into it with a cultured smile, busied herself with her purse and note book.

He thought, ‘I’m captured’, but when she crossed her pins he knew heaven just watching her.

“Do you like what you see?”

He turned beet red and then a shade deeper if possible. Gathering his wit, he answered,

“That’s the most gorgeous suit I’ve ever seen on a woman.”

“I recognize you, Vincent ……”

“Vince Donahue at your service, and you?”

“Natasha Ivanov, I live in Washington and work at the Russian Embassy.”

“Are there any more girls in Russia that look anything like you.”

“Word game, can you answer your own question using one word.?”

“Hardly. It’s a good one when you need it.”

The stewardess leaned over in a scoop neck and asked, “Drinks?”

Vince looked at her pair and then at Natasha as if telecommunicating, “Two double vodka’s straight.”

“Amazing” she said, “do you read minds too?”

“I might if I care to. Were you at the convention?”

“Oh yes, I’m a specialist in cyber security and biometric identification.

“How’d you get in that field?”

“I was an exchange student a few yeas ago and went to MIT with a full scholarship and received my doctorate last year.”

“Good Lord, at your age?”

“I’m older than you think.”

“Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“One thing, it’s no accident I’m sitting next to you.”

“But………”

She leaned over and kissed him, deep and slow,

“’I’m headed to the restroom in the rear. Wait one minute, knock four times.”

He watched her slip down the aisle, counted to sixty and followed her. As he squeezed in next to her, he could smell her hair, he stood so close. His heart pounded with excitement as he looked into her eyes searching……

“Two good to be true?” she asked.

“Yes, what’s a foot?”

She put her forefinger to her lips, Opened her purse and pulled out a small electronic box and pushed a hidden button,

“All electronic activity has ceased within five feet of this box. Are you wearing a Rolex?”

“No, too flashy.”

“Then look at you watch.”

His second hand had ceased to work. His cell phone died and the light went out.

Even the battery emergency light failed to go on.

“It’s pitch black isn’t it? We can talk quietly now, no security risk,” Natasha said..

{Sorry…. To Be Continued.]







.
NATASHA IVANOV



THIRTY THOUSAND EMAILS



 

 

 

Dead on his feet, Vince had covered both political conventions for Fox News. He settled back in his international. flight from Philadelphia to Australia, with a stop in Los Angeles and one in Hawaii. The seat was empty next to him and it surprised him because the flight was full. His first class ticket was courtesy of Fox and they gave him twenty grand as a bonus and three weeks off.

The plane‘s engines came to a roar but then settled down as the cabin door reopened and a vision entered. She was twenty five at the most, auburn hair with a figure to kill for. He checked her outfit, it was a habit of his and he guessed about eight grand worth with a two thousand dollar purse. His extra seat was the only one left and she slipped into it with a cultured smile, busied herself with her purse and note book.

He thought, ‘I’m captured’, but when she crossed her pins he knew heaven just watching her.

“Do you like what you see?”

He turned beet red and then a shade deeper if possible. Gathering his wit, he answered,

“That’s the most gorgeous suit I’ve ever seen on a woman.”

“I recognize you, Vincent ……”

“Vince Donahue at your service, and you?”

“Natasha Ivanov, I live in Washington and work at the Russian Embassy.”

“Are there any more girls in Russia that look anything like you.”

“Word game, can you answer your own question using one word.?”

“Hardly. It’s a good one when you need it.”

The stewardess leaned over in a scoop neck and asked, “Drinks?”

Vince looked at her pair and then at Natasha as if telecommunicating, “Two double vodka’s straight.”

“Amazing” she said, “do you read minds too?”

“I might if I care to. Were you at the convention?”

“Oh yes, I’m a specialist in cyber security and biometric identification.

“How’d you get in that field?”

“I was an exchange student a few yeas ago and went to MIT with a full scholarship and received my doctorate last year.”

“Good Lord, at your age?”

“I’m older than you think.”

“Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“One thing, it’s no accident I’m sitting next to you.”

“But………”

She leaned over and kissed him, deep and slow,

“’I’m headed to the restroom in the rear. Wait one minute, knock four times.”

He watched her slip down the aisle, counted to sixty and followed her. As he squeezed in next to her, he could smell her hair, he stood so close. His heart pounded with excitement as he looked into her eyes searching……

“Two good to be true?” she asked.

“Yes, what’s a foot?”

She put her forefinger to her lips, Opened her purse and pulled out a small electronic box and pushed a hidden button,

“All electronic activity has ceased within five feet of this box. Are you wearing a Rolex?”

“No, too flashy.”

“Then look at you watch.”

His second hand had ceased to work. His cell phone died and the light went out.

Even the battery emergency light failed to go on.

“It’s pitch black isn’t it? We can talk quietly now, no security risk,” Natasha said..

{Sorry…. To Be Continued.]







.

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

ONE FOR THE GIPPER

ONE FOR THE GIPPER

 

Robert Buckley slammed the cabinet front shut,

‘Damn I’m out of coffee. You might know on Sunday’

Since he had no one to complain to, he hopped in his Maserati, gunned the

engine and woke up half the neighborhood on the way to the grocery. The store had

sparse customers at eight in the morning but only one checkout was operating, ‘go figure’

he thought.

He picked up a few other items and waited patiently in line, when a mis-trodden

young man burst in front of him and pulled a 45 and pointed it directly at the middle aged

cashier,

“Give me all your money,’ he said, “and be quick about it.”



People scattered as quickly as they could but Robert calmly picked up something

in his cart and firmly pressed it to the robber’s spine,

“This is a glock I’m holding against your back. You make one move and I’ll blow

your spine into pieces. Do you understand? You turn around, you’re a dead man.

I am detective Robert Buckley and I could care less whether you live or die.”

He pressed harder and the robber winced at the pain,

“Drop your gun very slowly, don’t move and place your hands on you head, easy

now.”

The man behind Robert stood there frozen in awe. Robert took his free hand and

pointed to the customer’s belt, which he quickly removed and stood by Robert,

“Now put your hands behind your back slowly,.” he told the gunman.

 

Robert shoved the Glock even harder against the robber’s spine. The customer

behind Robert quickly tied the robber‘s hands tightly with his belt and two more grabbed

the robber and called the police. The customers still in the store broke out in polite

applause as Robert held his Glock high for everyone to see,

“The zucchini are rather hard this time of year, don’t you think?”




Monday, June 27, 2016

MISS KITTY

MISS KITTY

 
MYSTERY CHIEF INSPECTOR

 
 



At three thirty in the morning, John Murphy’s front doorbell rang, not once but

four times. He hated that time of morning ever since he found it was the death hour that

more people die than any other. At his age he expected to run into the grim reaper at any

given moment. With high anxiety he cracked the door to see a small cradle decorated

with a ribbon, sitting on his front porch.

When he uncovered the blanket tucked around the cushion, a small calico kitten

looked up at him with her green jade eyes. Love entered John’s life as soon as he set his

eyes on her. He guessed her age at six weeks or so and decided to name her ’Miss Kitty’.

John was officially retired as chief detective on the Miami police department. However

he worked special assignments that the department felt he was uniquely qualified for.

Miss Kitty, even at the age of twelve weeks became an eager student of murder

and vice. Training films, she absorbed in multiple doses while John laboriously went over

details and clues he had witnessed during his tenure as chief inspector. Miss Kitty was

trained to look for the unusual at the scene of murder.

At first, the city complained that rules were not followed by allowing a cat to

inspect scenes of murder and malice. But by this time, Miss Kitty weighed an

impressive eighteen pounds and with her training and senses hundreds of times more

acute then man, she began finding obscure clues the detectives missed. The

understanding between Miss Kitty and John took on a mystic awareness and silent

communication took over

.It wasn’t that John could read Miss Kitty’s intentions but the opposite was true.

At a special award service at the Miami Police Department, Miss Kitty was deemed and

awarded the title of Mystery Chief Inspector, in front of the press and television cameras.

Next day national news picked up the story and Miss Kitty’s portrait hit the news stands

across the country.

Scotland Yard showed interest in her talents and invited her along with John to fly

across the pond to England for an interview. She was awarded the title in England as

‘Dame Miss Kitty.’ At that point, John received a call from the Secretary Of The Interior

in Washington. Upon reaching the capitol city, she was whished to the pentagon along

with John, and interviewed by the Secretary Of Defense.

John was exhausted by this time and Miss Kitty had started to lose weight and her

coat lost some of it’s brightness.

“It’s time we took a vacation, Miss Kitty. Where would you like to go?”

Miss Kitty trotted over to John’s computer and typed in ‘Disney World’. John

knew that might be a serious problem for the park allowed only service animals in the

public area. When he got off the phone with a friend who had a management position, he

was faced with a no decision, but the next day he received great news. He and Miss Kitty

were to be greeted by Mickey Mouse and Pluto and fifty some reporters.

At Disney World, Miss Kitty appeared anxious and restless and John began to

wonder,

‘She’s never been shy in public before, there has to be a good reason. I’ll put my

phone down for her to type’.

The press was quite amused but when John read what she had typed, he

swallowed his reaction and calmly asked for security.

“You say your cat typed this message on your computer?”

The security official began to laugh.

“Let me see that message please.” came from the vice president of Disney World.

“Evacuate the park,” he told security, “follow procedures but be quick about it“

John reread the message his ryes at first had trouble believing,

“I can sense explosives in several areas.”

“I’ll turn her lose,” John said, “but we need to be quick. It won’t be easy keeping

up with her.”

An hour went by, bomb squads has diffused six areas of explosives that if set off

could have caused the lives of hundreds of visitors.

Next morning Miss Kitty again reigned supreme on front pages around the world.

“You are one magnificent cat, Miss Kitty,” John announced.

“Thank you,” she typed. “does that mean fresh salmon for dinner?”

“You bet!”

 

[Look for future stories of Miss Kitty solving mysteries