Back at the apartment after spending an hour scouting out Tzvika’s, Victor, and Daniel contacted their handler in Kiev. Officials in the Ukrainian capital were getting nervous that the Israelis were onto their plans. They feared that capture of their agents in Tel Aviv could lead to international condemnation. They were mostly concerned with consequences that would result from both Washington and London. But many in the halls of power of Kiev really wanted to put this whole situation behind them.
It was with this in mind that Victor and Daniel’s handler relayed that if the whereabouts of Eli and Eitan remained unknown, Plan B was now the preferred option. Tzvika’s crowded bar would indeed be the target. It was believed in Kiev that such an attack would satisfy the seething hatred emanating from the presidential palace. It would also assuage the intense pressure every Ukrainian intelligence office was feeling as a result. It was believed that if Victor and Daniel could pull it off, they should do so as expediently as possible.
The two Ukrainians waited anxiously in their apartment for their final orders. Their mission was already approved by military intelligence. Now it just needed approval from the top. Urged on by his wife, and still furious that Israel had gotten the better of him, President Kovalenko approved the order. Moments later, Victor and Daniel’s handler sent them a one-word message: GO.
For the next fifteen minutes, Victor and Daniel carefully placed the weaponry and ammunition they would need for the job into two backpacks. Each man placed in his bag an Israeli made Uzi 9x19 millimeter submachine gun. The weapons had been purchased illegally from rogue IDF soldiers on the black market. Their backpacks were adorned with patches of the Israeli flag and a popular Tel Aviv football club. Nothing about them would have raised any suspicion. Of this they were sure. After properly readying their weaponry and equipment, Victor and Daniel reviewed their plan one time last before heading out the door.
First, they would secure a table outside under one of the green Heineken umbrellas. They would arrive at eight o’clock, order drinks, and spend some time speaking in Ukrainian about the game. If possible, they would engage other tables in conversation to indicate that they were serious football fans excited for the game to start. A few minutes into the game, when the crowd was properly engaged in the match, they would open fire with their automatic weapons and eliminate as many targets as possible before fleeing the scene. A car would be waiting for them two blocks away from Tzvika’s once they completed their mission. The bar’s huge windows separating the outdoor seating from the indoor seating would be open, so everyone inside Tzvika’s would be in close range from their outdoor table. Victor would first open fire to create chaos, while Daniel would pick off bystanders seated in close proximity on the outside. Once bedlam had erupted and multiple targets had been hit outside, they would open fire into the interior of the establishment. If all went well, they could expect upwards of a hundred casualties. Hopefully enough to satiate the bloodthirsty leaders praying for their success back in Kiev. When Victor was satisfied that he and Daniel were on the same page, he announced that it was now 7:45 p.m. It was time to head downstairs and walk towards the car that would take them to pub.
By 8:15 p.m., slightly behind schedule, they were dropped off two blocks away from Tzvika’s. Both men were relieved to see that, despite a crowd starting to descend on the pub, there were several tables still open. They sat down opposite each other at a square metal table surrounded by four chairs. They placed their backpacks at their feet and smiled as they saw Tzvika approach from the door threshold where he had been conversing with his bouncer.
“Welcome back, boys. What did I tell you? Didn’t I tell you I would save some seats for you?” Tzvika called out when he got his first glimpse of his two happy returning customers. “You see, I told you, there is no better place to watch the game than Tzvika’s. Every shekel I put into advertising is worth it. Look, the game hasn’t even started, and we are almost full. Soon though there won’t be an empty seat so don’t go anywhere. Maybe you will see some of your old friends from back home tonight. Oh, and how do you like these space heaters I set up? Makes it real comfortable sitting out here, doesn’t it, boys?”
Victor and Daniel quickly ordered two beers to stop Tzvika from talking. Once he left, the two Ukrainian agents kept a close watch on everything playing out in the scene before them. Victor had a constant eye on the bouncer. He figured that he likely had a concealed weapon somewhere on his person. While any Israeli working in public or private security could have a concealed weapon, it was unlikely that any of the new immigrants from Ukraine would fall into that category. Daniel feigned watching the pregame discussion on the television despite not understanding a word the Israeli commentators were saying in Hebrew. It was hard to hear the television anyway with all the noise in the pub, and thus far no one had noticed anything unusual about the two Ukrainian agents. Tzvika personally brought Victor and Daniel their beers and then headed back to the bar, clearly thrilled that the crowd was continuing to grow. The two men sipped their beers and patiently waited for the game to begin.
They each kept a close eye on their watches. 8:45 p.m., fifteen minutes to the start of the game. 8:50 p.m., fifteen minutes until they would reach into their bags and remove their weapons. They each took a big swig of their beer, hoping that even a bit of alcohol would offer them a measure of fortitude to complete the task ahead of them. Finally, at 9:02, the game started, and cheers of excitement could be heard throughout the pub. At 9:04, Victor nodded one time to Daniel, and the two men reached into the backpacks resting by their feet.