. . .
On a peaceful night in the small city of Berdsk, Russia, a black van parked on a street across from a local elementary school. Few of the civilians who were on their evening jog only brushed it some glances, not knowing a surveillance team inside it kept watch in the vicinity.
"The sparrow is entering a phone booth beside Humlin Montessori," an agent whispered to the microphone on his suit, his cover that of a regular workplace employee reading a newspaper beneath a post lamp. "She's dialing a number."
He narrated every movement of the beautiful lady clad in a red dress. With the codename Sparrow, Greissha Ricci's every movement was being reported back to the van. Six other agents watching her from different angles.
"The sparrow has left the phone booth," the agent relayed his every observation. "A hidden portion of the school's walls had opened. Agent K, do you have vision?"
Agent K, undercover as a street sweeper on night duty, responded. "I have vision. The sparrow is following a path leading underground. Wait. The walls are closing!"
Their panic radiated from the transmitter before a voice replied. "You don't have to follow her inside," the sound of their commander's voice on the line said. "Just stay on your posts."
Jinno Di Angelo was inside the surveillance van, overseeing the operation. He instructed Agent B to turn the volume up on Greissha's mic to hear her surroundings better.
"Copy that," Agent B responded. His eyebrows furrowed from the sparrow's movement. "What is she doing inside an elementary school?"
Agent M, who was sitting beside him, in charge of the transmission signals, responded, "Miss Ricci divulged the location of the club where Salvio Iannucci frequents. It's underground that elementary school."
"What?"
The surveillance team could only wait in a van as Greissha Ricci entered the club, with dozens of bouncers greeting her at her entrance. The video surveillance ended right then and there, and they could only rely on the audio devices for intel.
"Have the tech team dissect Greissha Ricci's voice from everyone else's," he said, ears twitching from the sudden loud sound of people screaming and loud music booming from the transmission. Greissha Ricci had already entered the rowdy club.
A few seconds later, Greissha Ricci could be heard talking in Spanish to a man she addressed as Senor Dado. Once the noise died down, they heard nothing but the sound of a door closing. Having mistaken that the bugs were not picking anything, Jinno ordered for its frequency to be maxed, but just then, a low voice with a thick Italian accent boomed from the speakers.
"Mi Amore," the voice said, "I've been waiting for you. What took you so long, my love?"
The surveillance team ruled the man who spoke to be Salvio Iannucci. The agents were fast on writing their reports despite taking notice of the intimate endearment.
"They appear to be well-acquainted, Commander," Agent B said, his left hand lifting his left headphone away from his head. "What if Miss Ricci sells us out?"
The commander's eyes bore a deep gaze into the speaker as if Greissha's face were posted on it. "That's entirely possible," he said. "We'll bust the entire Iannucci family down when that happens. Break into their midst and arrest everyone."
Unknown to everyone else, the commander had twelve separate teams that kept surveillance of every turf of the Iannucci Family. He had countermeasures, given that Greissha Ricci betrayed him and ruined the operation. But knowing Greissha, her doubtful nature would have guessed his plans already. It was up to her to persecute the entire Iannucci Family if she wanted.
In a thrilling shift in the atmosphere, a kissing sound came out of the speakers. Having deduced that Greissha Ricci kissed the Italian boss as a greeting, the agents reported 'kiss unclear; lips or cheek.
"They sound rather intimate," Agent A said, his eyes looking up at the commander. "This is an unusual relationship."
Jinno Di Angelo remained stoic. His ears focused solely on the operation. "That makes everything better," he said. "The closer they are, the easier he'll open up."
"I heard you sold me out," Greissha Ricci said, her voice oozing with sweetness even from the other line. "Mijo."
Jinno Di Angelo's face budged for a second, his attention coveted by the nickname Greissha used to address Salvio Iannucci.
Mijo.
He hadn't heard this nickname for a long time.
The sound of Salvio Iannucci's laughter pulled him back to his task. The surrounding agents were still fast at their work. Not even one noticed a change in his mood.
"I apologize for that slip-up, Mi Amore," Iannucci enunciated, "Mr. Chikamoto is one of our top clients. I just couldn't have him doubting the integrity of our transaction."
"So when you told me about his plans," Greissha said, "You called him just to give me away?"
Footsteps were heard, each step louder than the other. They interpreted Salvio Iannucci to be walking closer. "Well, everything happened just the way I wanted. Didn't it?"
"What way? All of this? Did you plan to drag my name to the mud?" Greissha said, her voice remaining calm. "How would that benefit you?"
"You're here beside me, aren't you?" Iannucci said, his voice had gotten more airy, even louder as if he was breathing right on her neck. "You're alone, helpless, on the lam, and now you're asking me for help just the way I planned it. You have no one else but me."
Greissha started laughing on the other line. Earning a few eyebrows from the lieutenant but not even a budge from Jinno.
"That's brilliant. I never thought you'd do me like that," Greissha whispered, her voice becoming more sensuous and seductive. "But I was tortured and brought to prison. How do you make up for that?"
"You know I can always set you free," Iannucci whispered back.
The agents had their fingers frozen on their reports. A bright screen, a stenotypy, a handy typewriter, and a notebook staring blankly at their reddened faces.
"Commander, she won't take off her clothes will she?" Agent A asked, "The wiretaps—"
Agent H couldn't even finish his question, his eyes brimming with fear upon meeting the commander's deathly glares.
"Stop imagining things," Jinno Di Angelo ordered, his tone distraught yet intimidating. "Focus on getting every sound interpreted."
Soon, the reports collected no intelligible words but various sentences of vivid sound imagery of sheets rustling, heavy breathing, and various sounds that reddened the agent's faces upon input. When they finally heard some clothes rustle, they had to recollect themselves. The worse has ended, they believed.
"So, when is the bombing going to take place?" Greissha asked Iannucci without a foot on the break.
Her phrasing had the agents glancing at one another. It was a direct attack—a risky move that could make Salvio Iannucci suspicious, so they waited in silence for his response.
"You're suddenly interested in his ruse? Why? Are you going to stop it from happening and be a hero that saves the day?"
"I'm not a fool, Mijo. Chikamoto's already flourishing from my downfall," she said, "I've already fallen from grace so that bombing will most likely occur in one of my buildings, wouldn't it?"
The sound of Iannucci's laughter echoed around the van. "You take my breath away, Mi Amore!" he said, followed by consecutive claps. "My perfect beauty and brain!"
"It was a no-brainer. I'm already in prison, or so he thought," she replied. "What better way to create a bigger controversy than mentioning my name again? I don't care how low they're willing to go, but I won't do my employees that way."
"Alright," Iannucci replied. "I'll tell you everything."
. . .