Uncle Feliks

"Trust your uncle. Let's go."

Description:

Feliks is tall and somewhat narrow man, softened a bit by age. His dark hair is losing the battle with encroaching gray. He dresses in layers, usually including a waistcoat and hat of some sort.

Investigative Abilities:

Accounting 1, Archaeology 1, Art History 1, BS Detector 2, Bureaucracy 1, Electronic Surveillance 2, Flattery 1, High Society 1, History 1, Human Terrain 1, Interrogation 2, Languages 4, Law 1, Negotiation 2, Occult Studies 2, Reassurance 2, Streetwise 1, Tradecraft 3, Traffic Analysis 1, Vampirology 1

General Abilities:

Athletics 8, Cover 2, Disguise 1, Driving 9, Filch 9, Health 4, Infiltration 8, Medic 3, Network 4, Preparedness 9, Sense Trouble 2, Shooting 6, Shrink 8, Stability 6, Surveillance* 10

*MOS

Languages: Native: Russian; Bonus: English; Additional (13): German, Hungarian, Polish, Romanian, Turkish, Lip Reading, Enochian, Proto-Semitic, 5 open slots

Active Covers:

  • Friedrich Kowalski – Liaison/Outreach Specialist for the Gdansk Municipal Business Relations Bureau (3)
  • Yuri Boguslavskiy – Oligarch-in-exile and former executive of Lukoil (Russian non-state-owned oil company) (3)

Active Network Contacts:

  • Anton Depovic – Slovakian Drug and Gun Smuggler (4)
  • Felicja Pitrowski – Polish arms smuggler for Pruszków mafia group (4)
  • Connie Allerline – MI6 “Office Girl” in the 70’s. Now retired (3)
  • “Elsa” – Mercenary Catalogue Agent in London
  • Dr. Andrew Sayer – Physicist/Weather Satellite Expert at NASA in Greenbelt, MD

Experience Tracker

Bio:

In 1992, the KGB agents and controllers throughout the former Russian Republics and ex-Warsaw Pact countries were women and men without a country. They had contacts and informants, but no one to give the information to and no one to save them if everything locally went to hell (everything at home having already gotten there). Amidst this chaos appeared a dark-haired young man, calling himself “Uncle Feliks.” He looked like he hadn’t slept since 1917, but his connections and interpersonal skills were just what the floundering spies needed in that moment.

Uncle Feliks would show up and either organize an agent’s extraction from the country (a necessity in highly anti-Soviet locations like Lithuania and Poland), or put the agent in contact with people who could keep them afloat, even if said people didn’t exactly work for the government (Belarus and eastern Ukraine formed an effective information cell for years afterward, selling quality intelligence to all sides). The word got around quickly – if you had worked in intelligence for a Communist government and had no one else to turn, it might be wise to call your Uncle.

Where some ended up with multi-billion dollar empires out of the chaos of the USSR’s collapse, and others ended up with a bullet, Uncle Feliks ended up with friends all throughout Europe. Everyone suspected that he was ex-KGB, but no one seemed to know where he had worked prior to the collapse. One thing that became rapidly clear, was that he had an active animus against the Russian Bratva – the mobsters were always charged top dollar for Feliks’s aid, and more than a few were sold out by the spy. He demonstrated his facility with “active interrogation measures” while helping the Bulgarian Ministry of Internal Affairs roust out some Bratva money launderers, setting off a low-grade feud with the mob for years afterward. His usefulness became a wedge issue between the otherwise chummy intelligence apparatus and criminal organizations in the former Soviet Union. His efforts paid off, though. As the EU and NATO moved further east, the Russian Mob retreated and Uncle Feliks was free to travel. By the time Russia started encroaching back, the Security Services were once again in charge and the Mafia had become a franchise business anyway.

He’s no longer a young man – the hair on his head and face has a good deal of gray in it now. But he’s happy to be a team player these days, working with other professionals and using his espionage and people skills to make things run smoothly. One gets the impression that, at this point, he doesn’t really know how to do anything else.

A few years ago, the FSB managed to trace his identity back to an illegal cover – a junior executive at Deutsche Bank. That scanned with other skills he had demonstrated and put him at the KGB’s 101st Academy some time in the 1980’s. But when they went to find a dossier in the old paper archives, it wasn’t there. No one presumes he stole it; it’s probably just misfiled, which is just as bad. It doesn’t matter so much – whoever he might have been, he’s been “Uncle Feliks” for so long now that no one, including Feliks himself, really remembers anything about who he was.

Uncle Feliks

Night's Black Agents: The Dracula Dossier mattmagelssengreen Bookkeeper