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Agent Blake MacKay deviates from his normal clandestine duties and takes on the role of assassin. He is ordered by the President to eliminate a drug dealer as a personal favor to the U.S. Ambassador to Czech Republic after the Ambassador finds that his 19 year old daughter has become a participant in the darker aspects within the clubs in Prague.
Pulled into the dark world of raves, sex and drugs by the euphoric state the Ecstasy provided her, Tracy Clark, the all of 19 daughter of U.S. Ambassador James Clark, was a willing player in Sergey Dubrovskiy’s rise to glory among the drug dealers and the club scene in Prague.
Her beauty and charm helped lure in new customers for Sergey, but her diplomatic immunity is what really piqued his interest. However, when Sergey pushed too hard, the Ambassador found himself in a situation that needed to be dealt with quickly and harshly. Deciding to use his friendship and influence with the President, he called in a favor and and asked for the ultimate action.
Agent Blake MacKay has been ordered, as a personal favor by the President, to deviate from his normal clandestine mission types and take on the role of assassin. Blake flies to Prague to hunt down his target and complete his objective. His actions unleash a calamity that will be spoken about for years.
Prague, Czech Republic
0:45 (23:45 GMT)
The music was fast and the beat driving, Tracy moved her body in a seductive rhythm, and what a great body it was. The orange juice she drank just before hitting the dance floor kept “the roll” from her Ecstasy going strong, but if the roll waned, the man she knew upstairs would give her another pill. She could have as much as she wanted, and she always picked up enough to distribute to those she felt deserving.
Any of the men who stared at her as she danced would happily take advantage of a beautiful American girl absent her inhibitions, euphoric thanks to the Ecstasy, but, this girl was off-limits. Sergey Dubrovskiy, the man literally upstairs, had dibs on Tracy; and no one was stupid enough to challenge his claim.
Sergey Dubrovskiy, a 26 year old- drug pusher, from Tver, Russia, had grown up in an orphanage. At 18 he left for his compulsory two year stint in the military, but because of his issues with authority and two fused vertebrae in his neck due to an injury he acquired on a training mission, he was kicked out of the military after just a year. He was out on the streets with no money and nowhere to go, and so he did what he could to survive; theft and armed robbery and, even though Sergey wasn’t homosexual, male prostitution. There was little he wouldn’t do to put money in his pocket and food in his belly.
One night, a man who picked him up took him to an abandoned building and requested vile things that Sergey had never heard of, things he had never even thought possible. Sergey refused and the man got insistent and shouting and pushing Sergey, almost dared him to fight back. Sergey tried to leave, but the man grabbed Sergey and punched him in the face, then twice in the gut.
Sergey fell to the ground and his assailant followed, landing on top of him and ripping at Sergey’s pants. When Sergey got his breath back, he punched the man in the forehead, snapping his head back. In return for Sergey’s obstinance, the man delivered two hard punches to Sergey’s kidneys. Sergey kneed his assailant in the crotch and when the man raised up, Sergey got one of his legs free and kicked the man off of him. Raging like a lunatic, the would-be John stood up and pulled a knife.
Sergey stood, and without thinking, kicked the knife out of his assailant’s hands and to the floor. The man lunged at Sergey, and now fearing for his life, Sergey dove for the knife and grasped it in his hands. As the man dove toward him, Sergey turned to face him and plunged the knife deep into the man’s abdomen and twisted it. Sergey then rolled the man onto his back, withdrew the knife, and thrust it into his assailant’s chest.
Sergey rifled through the man’s pockets and found 150,000 rubles, the equivalent of about $5,000 U.S., and a bag of Ecstasy. Sergey’s only experience with the drug was as an occasional user, but he knew the 350 to 400 pills in the bag, had a street value of between $15,000 and $20,000. Knowing that the police would eventually find the body and would be looking for him, since several male prostitutes had seen him leave with the man, he realized that this wind fall would be his one and only chance to finally escape Tver, and maybe even Russia altogether.
With the contacts that he’d made living on the street, Sergey was able to get a passport in a matter of hours. He went to the train station and looked up at the boards to view the schedule. He was looking for the train going the farthest away that was leaving within the hour. The train to Prague was leaving in 45 minutes. He had never been out of the country, let alone to Prague but he had heard good things about the city and hoped that he could make a new start there.
The night clubs in his new city were always full, and he got a job as a bartender at one of the more popular. The demand for Ecstasy was high in the club where he worked, and he not only sold the Ecstasy he’d stolen but met the right people to refill his stock. Within a couple of years, he’d made enough money to purchase Club Disko and ran his operation out of there.
From Sergey’s perspective, Tracy was more than a hot body without the benefit of inhibitions. She also had money and was the daughter of a U.S. Ambassador, which meant, most importantly, she had diplomatic immunity. She could pass as much Ecstasy as she wanted, and if she ever got caught, she would be free from any prosecution or official questioning of any kind. She was Sergey Dubrovskiy’s little “try before you buy” pusher and people always came back for more. He had seen a 20 percent increase in his business since he started using her. The fact that she was good looking and he could bang her anytime he wanted were just added bonuses.
Tracy, all of 19, had decided to take a year off from school before returning to the United States to start her college career. After all, her father was the U.S. Ambassador to the Czech Republic, and with that came a plethora of benefits. It also came with great responsibility, her father had informed her, but Tracy decided that part of the bargain didn’t apply to her.
To the disappointment of many of the men watching her, Dominika and Hana, two of Tracy’s friends, came out onto the dance floor and interrupted her.
Hana said, “Tracy, come over to the table. We’ve met some people who want to get a sample.”
Tracy looked over Hana’s shoulder. “They look like tourists. They wouldn’t be back to actually buy any. Sergey only likes me to give it away to people who will actually come back and buy.”
Dominika then said, “So what if they’re tourists? They’re here for a week, and more than likely they will be back for more. Besides, the guy on the right is cute and I really want to get laid. He’s a bit shy, and with a little help, he might loosen up a bit.”
“Come on, Trace,” added Hana, a hint of begging in her tone.
Tracy looked again and counted. “Guy’s, there’s ten of them. Add the three that I need to get for us, and that might be too many to ask for.”
“Oh for fucks sake, Tracy!” Hana then said, “Here. This is for Dominika and me. Please?” Hana grabbed Tracy’s hand and placed 1500 Koruna, the equivalent of $80 U.S., in it.
Tracy sighed. “Okay, let me see what I can do.” Tracy then left the dance floor and went upstairs to see Sergey.
The club, in an old two-story building with bare brick walls, was on the Vltava River and not far from the famous St. Charles Bridge. Inside, the floors were a well-worn hard wood. Lining the wall to the left as you entered the club were black booths with small tables in front of them. On the far back wall to the right was the bar, and at the very back was a wooden staircase that went to the second floor.
A walkway about a meter and a half wide ran the entire length of the club on the far right wall, a very popular perch from which to watch the people dancing and mingling below. Halfway down, the walkway crossed over, making a bridge to the other side of the building. Behind a thick velvet curtain was Sergey’s private room, which he used to entertain VIPs as well as to conduct deals with some of his larger customers from other parts of Prague and throughout the Czech Republic.
As Tracy approached the room, Sergey’s main henchman, Bronislav tried to stop her. At 6 feet 7 inches and over 300 pounds, he was a commanding figure. His name was a combination of the names of two Norse Gods, and roughly translated it meant “glorious protector,” a fitting name for this large man given his responsibilities. Unfortunately, his command of the English language was not so good. As she approached, Bronislav held out his arms and said, “Nyet! No go.”
Tracy rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, Bronny. I just need to pick up a few samples for some potential new customers.” She then flashed a sweet smile and played with her boobs in a flirting way.
Bronislav shook his head and pointed to his chest. “Bronislav. Not Bronny. Sergey beezy. No veesitors.”
Tracy moved to one side and then to the other in sort of a juke move. As Bronislav moved with her, she reached in and grabbed the butt of his pistol that he kept inside his jacket and pulled it out. As he reached for it, she tossed it across the walkway, away from the curtain. As he went for his pistol, Tracy slipped past him and through the curtain to Sergey’s office.
Tracy expected to find several men smoking and drinking vodka and discussing business, but what she saw was altogether different. Sitting half-naked on his black leather couch with his legs spread wide, Sergey was enjoying the company of some blonde, who was servicing him with enthusiasm.
“What the hell?” Tracy shouted.
Sergey rolled his eyes. “Ahhh. Shit. Get up,” he said to the blonde.
The blonde sat up and covered herself with her shirt and then got up off the couch. Sergey rested his arms up along the back of the couch as he leaned back and said, “Where in the hell is Bronislav? Why are you up here?”
“Why am I up here?” Tracy asked. “I’m up here because I have a bunch of future customers for you down-stairs looking for a sample and I came up to get some. I didn’t know you were getting a blow job from some dumb bitch!” Tracy looked at the blonde and asked, “What are you going to say about that you fucking slut?”
Sergey laughed. “She doesn’t understand you, you idiot!”
Now even angrier, Tracy started cussing at Sergey as she crossed the room towards him. “I can’t believe you did this to me you son of a bitch! How many other times have you done this? You asshole! I’ve helped you out and you go and do this shit?”
Sergey, now agitated, stood up abruptly. “Listen, we’re not exclusive, you stupid little girl. We have an arrangement! I give you and your friends shit for free, and in return you help to get me more customers. That’s all! I can’t help it that you like to fuck me as well. I think you enjoy it more than I do.” Sergey went to a chair where his pants were draped and started to put them on. “I’ve given you thousands of dollars’ worth of free shit.” Sergey walked over to his bar after putting on his pants and poured himself a double shot of vodka.
Tracy stepped up to him so close their noses nearly touched. Pointing a red painted finger at his chin like a revolver, she said “You’re such a dick! I have half a mind to tell my father…”
Sergey backhanded Tracy in the face so hard she fell to the floor. There was a small cut under her eye from his ring. The cut was nothing compared to the black eye she would have later in the morning.
Tracy picked herself up off the floor and left the room as Sergey shouted at her to get out. She went back downstairs. Dominika and Hana were waiting to ask her if she was successful in obtaining the Ecstasy. They could see that she was crying, and after they escorted her to a table near the dance floor where there was a bit more light, they could see that her eye was starting to swell and there was a cut under it.
“What the fuck happened?” asked Dominika.
“Oh, he’s just in a foul mood tonight,” said Tracy. “I’m sorry, but I wasn’t able to get any X for you guys.”
Dominika and Hana looked at each other and without saying a word, they silently agreed it was time to take their friend home. They gathered their things and headed for the door. As they left the club, Karl Creek, who worked for the Ambassador, was sitting at one of the tables just outside the club. He noted that Tracy was leaving and called the Ambassador to let him know.
A few months before, the Ambassador grew tired of his daughter ditching her security detail and doing only God knew what. He eventually got her phone long enough to install an application that allowed him to know exactly where she was at all times. He’d long suspected that she had been experimenting with the drug Ecstasy, which was very popular among the young who frequented the clubs and the all-night rave parties. What he didn’t realize was the relationship that she’d developed with Sergey Dubrovskiy.
When he found out, he was enraged and wanted to do something about it immediately. He was advised against it by his team of security personnel due to the publicity it would bring to his family. Shipping her back to the States was, unfortunately, not an option. She was an adult and his hands were tied. Plain and simple, if Tracy wanted to do drugs, that’s what she would do. Eliminating Sergey would do nothing to change that, and as far as he could tell, the man hadn’t harmed her, not, yet. He decided to assign his men to keep an eye on things and if they found anything that could lead to the bigger fish and shut down his operation and his club, then, and only then, would he take action.
However, his plans changed abruptly when the Ambassador saw Tracy’s swollen eye the next day. He was angered beyond comprehension. He decided to call in a few favors and take the ultimate action: eliminate Sergey Dubrovskiy permanently.