Extraction

Copithorne is dead.

I've been back for a few days, and I wasn't in the mood to write anything. I wasn't sure if I should write anything. The few of you that read this would probably prefer amusing anecdotes, but unfortunately that's not always the way it is. I feel I owe it to the man to explain what happened, even if that isn't his real name.

We were called in to perform an extraction, which is the worst sort of mess. Extractions are rare. When contact is lost with an agent, the modus operandi is to monitor but not to initiate contact. In other words, it's up to the agent to get out of whatever situation he's in and establish contact when it is safe to do so. It's also policy not to alert anyone to our larger presence; if an agent, as part of their cover, is working alone, and a contingent of agents intervenes, that agent no longer has any use in that milieu; they need to be reassigned and retrained, or simply retired. On top of that, an extraction can only occur when the agency has reason to believe that the agent has little or no chance of reestablishing contact himself.

When it comes to extractions, you have to assume that your target is already dead, that the mission will result in a number of additional dead people, and that you might be one of those additional dead people. It's not a fun assignment by any means. It's also one that everyone lines up for.

Six weeks ago, Copithorne went to the Ukraine to do gather intel on a little-known group called темно паника (Dark Panic... note: it sounds better in Russian). They're believed to be arms dealers, conventional weapons but well-funded, and Copithorne was supposed to spend a week or two assessing the threat level of the organization. He ended up sending a steady stream of info back to the agency for four weeks, when communication abruptly stopped. Jennings contacted the Ukrainians, who were unable to help, followed by the Russians, who had no interest in helping. Word is that Jennings actually met with his superiors, which almost never happens, and the decision was made to send us in.

The team of four, Abby, Gruber, Coop, and myself, were flown to Incirlik and then transported covertly to Sevastopol where we hopped in a van and set out on our extraction mission. Dark Panic's supposed HQ was just outside of Bakhchisaray, so it wasn't a very long drive, but it felt like hours. We busted into their HQ, expecting to meet all kinds of resistance...

The place was empty.

Let me tell you that Coop has been in this business for twenty years, and he was just as spooked as I was. Sometimes during an extraction you get the drop on people and it's over in seconds, and sometimes your targets are well-trained and vigilant, and a prolonged firefight ensues. But when you walk into a place and there's no one there, the first thought you have is 'ambush', and the next thought you have is 'they knew we were coming'. Then you don't know what to think. We found Copithorne... I'm not prepared to write about the condition they left him in. Suffice it to say he was dead.

The office has been quiet, and at the same time busy. No one's really sure what to say. We've lost agents before. It's never easy, but it usually doesn't sit quite like this. This one's going to take a while to get over.