Third Time's a Charm

I'm going to catch hell in the debriefing today, because I lost my gun for the third time. Any time you lose anything you catch hell, but I'm going to hear all about how it's becoming a habit and I'm losing focus and all sorts of nonsense like that. As if three times in six years is a habit.

The first time I lost one, it wasn't even a big deal. Four weeks into the job I accidentally left it over a "friend's" house when I rushed out the door the next morning to get to work. When I realized I didn't have it, I just broke into her house and got it back. That was stupid. There was no reason for me to be carrying a piece around town like that. Still, no harm, no foul.

The second time totally wasn't my fault. Back in 2003 during the PK mission, I dropped it in the bay. They're lucky I didn't drop anything else in there, the way MacDougal was piloting the speedboat... the damned guy is weaving back and forth, ripping off near 180's, and it's not even like anyone from Code 7 was shooting at us. The guy could've just punched it straight ahead and things would have gone a lot smoother. Man, just thinking about that whole thing pisses me off. I'm glad MacDougal got reassigned to desk work.

So on this latest trip, I was meeting with the Kyrgyz arm of the Kiev Syndicate. They aren't as big as they used to be, but they still have some weight to throw around. Now apparently, some Canadian guy built a nine hole golf course about half an hour from downtown. And these guys just love playing there. I'm there for business, and I try to explain that I've never played golf before, but they won't take no for an answer. So we play nine at the Maple Leaf Golf and Country Club. And of course, I have played before, but I have to pretend like I haven't... which isn't really that tough, because the course really is.

Now I had the Bersa tucked away, but my main weapon was affecting my swing, so I stuffed it in the golf bag after the second hole. And that's where it probably is right now, because I didn't realize it was gone until the next morning and by then it was too late. You can't just call the Kiev Syndicate and tell them you left a gun at their place. It doesn't work that way.

Dumbass. And what's killing me is that I had that gun broken in just the way I like it.

Back from Bishkek

Oof. I am back from Bishkek. This was not a particularly fun trip, mostly administrative.

Bishkek is underrated as cities go. The architecture may be drab, but it's quite a lively city, full of bistros and markets and tree-lined parks. It may suffer from cold winters, and it may not be the best place to go walking after dark, but the same could be said about Detroit. And it's typically a great place to lay low after an operation in Kazakhstan, but this time around it was straight to Bishkek and back. And I was hoping to stay at the Hyatt, but as usual, the "budget didn't allow for that". So instead I stayed with Aigul.

Aigul runs the safehouse in Bishkek, away from downtown but close to the Osh Market. She takes care of the few of us who drop by, and in turn she's well taken care of, at least by Kyrgyz standards. There are some fine looking women in Bishkek; Aigul's not one of them. But she'll cook you up mutton shashlyk with shorpo and kumis that'll put that Cold Cut Trio at Subway to shame.

Unfortunately, it's April, and that's a little too early for kumis. So instead I suffered through some rotgut arak that damn near burned a hole in my throat. Last month the locals decided to stage their own revolution and took over government buildings and the TV station. "Viva la Revolution" I guess. But when the Georgians and Ukranians revolted, at least they picked one color and stuck with it. The Krygyzstanis weren't nearly that organized... they fought over whether it was yellow or pink or something else. Personally, I think "Pink Revolution" sounds like the title of a Cosmo article, or maybe a Beatles album. At any rate, this development has suddenly thrust a country of goatherders into the world spotlight for a while, so I stopped in to make sure our interests were in order.

And, as expected, everything was status quo. Which meant flying from Seattle to New York to Moscow to Bishkek, then back again, with two weeks of nonsense in between. So right now I'm just going to relax and watch the Mariners beat up on Texas. I was thinking of heading down to QFC to get some Rainier, but I'm far too tired to leave the house.