Chasing daylight stealth.., p.20
Chasing Daylight (Stealth Ops Book 7), page 20
“Were at the center of everything?” he asked, and she nodded. “How’d the death of your parents trigger the collapse of the Volkovs? I mean, I thought the Volkov leader had created the ledger and key specifically to keep him protected from the SVR.”
“How much do you know about the ledger?” she asked, sounding a little surprised at his knowledge of the book.
“Enough.” More than he wanted to at this point. And the fact POTUS wanted his hands on it spoke volumes. “How about you tell me what you know?”
She worried her lip between her teeth, eyes on the blanket. “When I was first questioned by the FBI after my parents died, they asked me if I’d ever seen a book. And a code-breaker. I had no clue about it at the time.” Ana’s green eyes focused once again on A.J. “Not too long after that, the Feds who’d been working the Volkov case for years decided there was never a ledger. I suppose since they couldn’t find any evidence of it. Meanwhile, the Russians began killing off Volkov spies. Not only to prevent the U.S. government from turning the Volkovs but because they were also worried Volkov spies would pin their work on the SVR. The Russian administration wanted to prevent going down with the ship, so to speak. And since the SVR had begun converting Americans into spies for money, they didn’t need the Volkovs anymore. Well, this is what I learned after joining the FBI, at least.”
“But that’s not your theory, I take it?” He tipped the brim of his hat a touch lower, shielding his eyes to better see her.
“No, I believe the ledger and its key are real.”
“What makes you think that?”
“When Porter approached me four months ago about taking this UC job, he laid out more of the story behind my parents’ death.” Ana took a moment, most likely composing her thoughts. Cataloging them in the proper order that made the most sense to share. “Shortly before my parents died, Porter said he arrested a Volkov agent. The man was offered a cushy deal in exchange for intel, and the man claimed both the ledger and key had been stolen from Adrik three months before, which Adrik adamantly denied.”
“Because if the ledger and its key were real and the only thing keeping the SVR in check, Adrik wouldn’t be fool enough to let anyone know they were no longer in his hands.” That made sense, and as much as he hadn’t really believed in the book before, well, he believed in Ana, so . . .
“Then rumors began floating around that a redheaded female Volkov agent and her husband were the ones who somehow stole the ledger and key from Adrik. Porter’s source offered multiple stories as to how the couple actually stole the items, but all that mattered was the items were out of Adrik’s hands.” She grimaced, and he knew where her mind was going.
Visions of what Ana’s mother may have looked like came to mind. The golden-red hair. Same green eyes, too, he imagined.
He couldn’t stomach the idea of anything or anyone ever coming between him and his family. He hated Ana had to handle all of this, and without ever feeling as though she could share with the man she’d married . . .
He forced his focus back to her. “You think your parents are the ones who stole the ledger and key from Adrik?”
“It fits with the timeline. Our trip to Hungary over my birthday wasn’t my first time there. We’d also attended another party at the labyrinth around the time the ledger and key went missing,” Ana responded. “And my mother had distinctively red hair.”
“Okay, let’s say they did. The more important question is, why?”
“Best guess? Greed.” She let the admission hang in the air, clearly frustrated for not being able to solve the puzzle.
“So, how’d they do it?” A.J. mused.
“Think about what the Feds told me my parents did before they were activated to spy for the Volkovs.”
“Con artists. Thieves.” He wished they could go back to her licking ice cream from the spoon and his dick stirring—no, saluting her—in his pants.
She nodded, her brows scrunched tight. “My dad was practically an illusionist. Made things appear and disappear literally before my eyes all the time. His magic tricks were my favorite memories of him.” She closed her eyes for a second as if scolding herself for allowing any happy thoughts to remain in her mind.
“Both the Volkovs and the SVR would have reason to kill your parents if they discovered they stole them.”
She sat taller, her spine going straight, outwardly relieved to be sharing everything even if it was a painful subject matter. “While my parents and I were at the theater, our house was ransacked. Porter told me when the team showed up to my home, the place was already destroyed.”
And damn did he admire her strength. She was opening up to him in a way that, only yesterday, he hadn’t been sure was possible. “Would your parents have kept the ledger and key at their house?” That didn’t seem all that smart to do with such valuable items. Not even in a safe, well, unless someone wanted them found.
“Maybe not the originals, but I think whoever tore apart our home believed they’d found them. Or at least one of them,” she answered, a mirror to his thoughts.
She tucked her lips inward for a moment, and for the briefest of guilty seconds, he wanted to suck that lip. Tease it between his teeth. If only he could make all her pain and suffering go away with a kiss. If only life were so easy.
“My parents had no qualms about stealing, so they certainly wouldn’t hesitate about making copies of the ledger and key. The Feds said my parents used to counterfeit everything. Obviously, I didn’t know the paintings I saw come and go from our house over the years were fakes, but thinking back, they couldn’t have been real. Van Goghs. Picassos.” Her tight, nervous expression loosened a touch. “What if my parents stole the ledger and key while we were in Hungary, three months before their death, just like Porter’s source had claimed? They could have hired the forger they always worked with to create copies of both. And before you ask, at the time, I didn’t know he was a forger, but it makes sense that they would have one given their line of work.”
“You know, you reading my mind is kind of unnerving,” he said, going for a sip of wine because this really was like the plot of a Tom Cruise Mission Impossible movie.
“Occupational hazard,” she smirked. “Knowing my dad, he planted the forgeries in our home, but hid the real ones. Probably in two separate locations. An insurance policy perhaps? So, while the FBI were busy killing my parents, Russian agents probably stole one or both of the forged copies. And since no one came forward with another copy of either after that night, the SVR felt it safe to target the Volkovs.”
His eyes fell to the ice cream as the chocolate liquified. “And if the real ones were hidden by your parents, they became lost forever with their deaths.”
“Well, lost for fifteen years, at least. Grigory claimed to have found the ledger and key to keep the SVR at bay, but I know he doesn’t have both. And as to whether he has the original ledger or another forged copy, I have no idea.”
A.J.’s gaze whipped back to her face, first to her full lips before meeting her hunter green eyes. “Yeah, no way does Grigory Volkov also have the key, or he wouldn’t be so willing to cooperate with you. He needs the key to protect himself from the SVR.” A.J. paused for a moment because something wasn’t adding up. “How can you be sure Grigory found the ledger? It could be another rumor.”
“Because I’ve spoken to Grigory Volkov.” Her admission sounded more like a plea of “guilty” in a courtroom. What did she mean she spoke to Grigory Freaking Volkov? Was she already in that deep?
“What?” He retracted his hand from her leg on reflex, but he didn’t want to be that guy again. That guy back in the office whose shocked reaction had her fleeing the room in shame.
A lifetime of betrayal flashed in her green eyes, but he refused to hurt her. He set his hand back on her thigh and looked into her eyes. He offered her a tight nod he hoped conveyed, I won’t let you down. Her lashes were wet, but there weren’t any more tears. She was a stunningly beautiful woman who’d been put through the Russian wringer of life.
“After Porter came to me with my new assignment—to infiltrate the Volkovs—he presented a few possible Volkov sources to look into to help me gain access to the organization.”
“Katya was one of them?”
“Yeah, I tracked her every move for about a month. She was dating Dominick Volkov, and I caught him having an affair.” A soft blush crawled over her cheeks as if embarrassed she caught Dominick having sex. “I used that as my chance to turn her to work with the Bureau. She admitted she never really wanted to be a spy for the Volkovs, but Dominick had pressured her into it.”
“Katya helped you make contact with Dominick, then?” But what about Grigory? He’d do his best to let her unravel the “complicated” story, now understanding why she’d opted for part two of their talk down by the pond.
“No, not officially. It’d be too risky for her since she was going to work with the FBI. But from my surveillance of her, I was able to track Dominick to an apartment in Newark, New Jersey. I made first contact, but he was hesitant to trust me.”
A.J. removed his hat, swiping the slight sheen of sweat from his brow before setting it back on. “You had to offer him Katya?”
“Yes, but in exchange, Katya was going to receive a cushy payout, new identity, and a chance to be free of the Volkovs. She was okay with the arrangement,” Ana explained, her tone confident.
“What exactly was the plan? How were you going to do that?” He’d swear he was smart, but every so often while they spoke, he found himself wondering if he’d be able to find his ass with both hands in his pockets. Maybe he’d blame the two bumps on his head.
Ice cream—no, milkshake break, anyone?
“Since the Russian government was the most notable enemy of the Volkovs, why not ensure the Volkovs in Hungary intercepted word that a Russian hitman had been hired to take out a Volkov asset in the U.S.?” She paused for a breath as though her thoughts moved faster than her mouth could. “Once I gave Dominick Katya’s identity as an FBI asset, the plan was to have her moved into witness protection and make it look like she’d been killed by a Russian hitman before the Volkovs got a chance to get to her themselves.”
“With her believed to be dead, she really could have started over. No one would be looking for her,” he said with a nod, trying to keep up with her. “Plus, you would’ve given Dominick what he wanted, proving your loyalty. But it wasn’t your fault that the SVR got to Katya first considering the beef between the two organizations.” Damn brilliant.
“Only something obviously went wrong. There was never supposed to be a real kidnapping, but Ivan Smirnoff must’ve somehow got to Katya hours before the plan was set into motion to move her to WITSEC for what was supposed to be the fake hit.”
“So, where does this forger who supposedly worked for your parents come into play?” In this heat, and with his shirt beginning to cling like something fierce, she might need to spell it out for him. He was growing a bit light-headed.
“When I told Porter about my dad’s only lifelong friend, who also happened to show up with artwork every time he visited, Porter suggested he may be a forger, and he began looking for him.”
“Did Porter confirm he was a counterfeiter of sorts?”
“Yes, his name is Anthony Vincenzi, an Italian artist by day, and a forger by night. And if Anthony can verify he made copies of the originals, maybe he made more? Or knows where my parents would have hidden the real ones?”
“So, now you’re offering the Volkovs the forger, am I right? You told Grigory copies were made?” Heat exhaustion or not, it was clear why everything hinged on her leaving D.C. regardless of what the Bureau would think about her actions. A woman on a mission, but even if Porter kept the UC assignment on the down low, there had to be evidence of her work in the FBI server, right? Someone over Porter’s head had to have signed off on the UC operation.
“Yes, and that’s how my contact with Grigory comes into play. A few weeks ago, I told Dominick that the Bureau believed someone forged the original ledger and key fifteen years ago. I told him I would track down the forger. And the next day, I heard from Grigory Volkov himself. He was interested in the key, not the ledger, which I assume means he is already in possession of either the original or a copy. But if I can find the key, I can use it to draw out Grigory and take him down, as well as identify any remaining spies in the U.S. listed in that book.”
“What I don’t get is why your parents would hide a real or a fake ledger in Budapest, the location where it was originally stolen. I assume they did it that week before they died. But that doesn’t make much sense to me.”
Her hand went to the column of her throat before sliding beneath the fabric of her tee telling him the heat was now getting to her, too. “There are so many ideas spinning in my head, and it’s mostly speculation for now. But that’s why I am down here. To get answers. Porter left me a message yesterday to go dark. He said he finally found the forger, and he’s planning to bring him to our safe house on Friday. Anthony’s my best shot.”
“Best shot at what?” A.J.’s stomach dropped. He had a good idea what she was going to say and really didn’t want to hear it.
When Ana looked away and toward the pond, he knew he was fucked. How would he protect a woman who’d resent his protection as she’d done with her ex? “Trying to understand what my parents were up to. Find the real key.”
“And you agreed to do this because . . .?” His back, shoulders, neck—everything tensed up, including his hands as they rested on the blanket on each side of his body.
“Because my parents are the reason why so many people died. Because they were criminals. Spies. Because I’m the Bureau’s best hope to get on the inside, and Porter didn’t know who to trust. He’s worried there are still spies working for Russia at Headquarters.” She held her palms open. “You pick a reason.” Her tone switched to defense-mode, anxious he’d try and stop her mission.
He scooted closer and brought a hand to her knee.
“I knew what I was signing up for when Porter laid the truth out four months ago. I was well aware of the risks. I had to prove to the Volkovs I wasn’t entrapping them. But now, with the missing sources, it’s clear someone at Headquarters is dirty. Possibly sabotaging me. The timing can’t be a coincidence, not when I’d planned to have Katya go missing last week. Everything was falling into place until—”
“The missing sources,” he finished on a frustrated sigh. He was terrified for her, but he also admired her determination. Now more than ever, he knew why Ana was so tense and wound tight. Saying she had a lot on her plate would be an understatement.
“Yesterday, I tried to buy myself some time and offered up the identity of the FBI’s second Volkov source, knowing full well they wouldn’t be able to get to him in Miami.”
He thought back to the car with Chris just yesterday outside the Hoover Building. It felt like a week ago, though. “That was the pass you made with Dominick yesterday?”
“Yeah, and earlier today, I told Grigory I found the forger, but I had no choice. I didn’t want him to question my loyalty and lose the chance to get to him.”
A.J. closed his eyes at her admission. His heart squeezed uncomfortably. “You talked to him today?” he asked again to ensure he’d heard her correctly, doing his best not to feel betrayed at the news she’d been on the phone with a dangerous criminal without his knowledge.
“Yes, and as poorly as everything turned out with having to look guilty to my colleagues, this plan might actually work. I think Grigory will arrange a meeting in Budapest. He wants the key himself. He won’t trust anyone else to get it first.”
“You’re seriously considering meeting with the new leader of the Volkovs, a man the SVR wants dead, without the FBI backing you up?” He did his best not to sound sarcastic, but damn, was she insane?
“Of course not. Porter was going to arrange a team to follow me, but then he had to go dark, and now I am too, so . . .”
“I’m thinking I won’t be able to stop you from going through with this, but can I at least back you up?” If she said no, though, he’d have to piss her off and protect her anyway.
“Are you sure you’re okay with that? I don’t want to endanger your team.”
His eyes stretched. “I’m here with you through this. My team is in Bama, too. We’ll figure this out together. You don’t have to keep all this bottled up inside anymore. It’s not good for you.”
She swiped a fallen tear and looked away from him as if suddenly worried that one tear was more painful or revealing than the ones on the porch earlier.
His palm slid up her leg, stopping shy of her shorts. “But, Ana, what if Grigory Volkov knows your parents were the ones who stole the ledger and key in the first place? They’re the reason forged copies exist. What if the revenge he might be looking for includes hurting you?”
“Porter mentioned that risk, too.”
“And you ignored it?” His free hand knotted at his side with his need to protect her from the likes of the Volkovs of the world. And from men in suits at the Bureau who were willing to do whatever it took, including risk Ana’s life, to close a case.
“It’s worth the risk.” She reminded A.J. of Natasha and her conviction to chase down The Knight. But that case had brought Wyatt and Natasha together, and now they were getting married in a month.
“Not in my eyes.” He stood and removed his hat, on edge thinking about the million things that could have gone wrong had A.J. and his team not been assigned to surveil Ana.
Everything happens for a reason.
“A.J., please.” She rose and stepped around the blanket to get closer to him.
“Who else, aside from Porter, knew about your undercover work?” Something was still bothering him about all of this, well, aside from all the other things bothering him.
“I don’t know, but Porter didn’t want a record of my assignment in the system at the Bureau, too worried about sensitive information being hacked, or falling into corrupt hands.”
