Chapter 13
13
Alex strode up to the receptionist’s high counter at the expensive law firm in downtown Washington.
“Good morning, sir. May I help you?”
New girl. Didn’t know him. And furthermore, she was flirting with him. Today, it merely irritated him, which irritated him even more. He ought to at least mentally size her up. But instead, he had no desire to check her out.
Damn. He had it worse for Katie than he’d realized in his whiskey-induced fog last night.
“Please tell Chester Morton that Alex Peters is here to see him. He’s not expecting me.”
“I’ll let him know. And if there’s any thing I can do to make y’all comfortable, just lemme know,” the girl drawled in a thick southern accent.
He took the farthest chair away from the aggressively interested girl and opened a newspaper on his tablet computer that he didn’t read, his thoughts churning.
Since when didn’t he check out attractive women who threw themselves at him? He wasn’t a sexual predator by any means, but neither was he dead ! So, what the hell was wrong with him?
He knew the answer. He just didn’t want to accept it. Alex Peters was a player. A rolling stone. He wasn’t the kind of man to settle down with one woman in domestic bliss.
The past few weeks were an anomaly, and the sooner he got back to his regularly scheduled life, the better.
“Alex? This is a pleasant surprise, son. Come on back.”
He looked up at his attorney and scowled. Disbelief at what he was here to do today coursed through him. And yet, he stood up and followed his attorney back to his office.
“What can I do for you?” Chester asked as he sat down behind his big desk.
He asked reluctantly, “What do you know about international adoption law?”
Katie was shown up to her uncle’s office by a highly intelligent looking and friendly young man in a suit. The guy smiled winningly and threw out interested signals at her, which she pretended to be oblivious to. He was the kind of guy she would’ve been attracted to a few weeks ago. Before she met a brilliant surgeon with a dark past and a darker soul.
“Hi, Uncle Charlie,” she said wryly as the door closed behind her.
“Hi, kiddo. Have a seat.”
“I gather this isn’t a social visit?” she wasted no time asking.
Her uncle leaned back in his desk chair and shifted into the master spy. “No. It isn’t.”
“What can I do for you?” she asked. She tried to keep her voice friendly. Open. But suspicion rattled around in her gut.
“I gather your trip to Zaghastan was rather eventful.”
“That’s a word for it.”
“I’d like to hear about your experience.”
She leaned back, studying her uncle. Piercing intelligence shone in his eyes. She said pleasantly, “You’re a busy man, and I’ve got places to go and things to do, today. Why don’t we just cut to the chase? What specifically do you want to know?”
Her uncle studied her in turn, and she had no doubt he was catching every microscopic hint she gave away of her thoughts and feelings “I always did think your family underestimated you.”
He was trying to soften her up. Get her on his side before he sprang whatever he was going to spring on her. She didn’t bother to respond to the compliment, even if it was gratifying.
“What did you see that last night in the Karshan valley? Who attacked the village?”
She answered bluntly, “It was soldiers for sure. Special Forces types, if I had to guess. They had high-tech gear and seemed focused on a target. Frankly, I thought it might be our guys.”
“Not ours,” Charles the Spy answered promptly and definitively.
“Then whose?”
“That’s what we’d like to know. What are the odds it was Russians looking for your friend?”
She frowned. “The Russians helped us get out of Zaghastan. Why would they try to kill us and then turn around and help us?” She shook her head. “I don’t think it was Russians in the Karshan Valley.”
“At least not Russian government,” her uncle replied thoughtfully.
“What other Russians could it be?” she asked quickly.
Charles smiled broadly at her. “Exactly. They all underestimated you.”
“You’re dodging the question.”
He nodded. “I am, indeed.”
“Well?”
He picked up a single sheet of paper from his desk. She saw typing on it. “This came across my desk early this morning.” He held it out to her.
Frowning she took it and read it quickly.
“Urgent traffic: Central Asia desk. Verification codes authenticated at 0613 a.m. EDT by Victor Echo Foxtrot Alpha. Begin message. Zaghastan station reports village of Ghun in Karshan Region attacked at 2300 hours local. All inhabitants killed. No survivors. Observer on ground verified in person at 0300 hours local. End message.”
Ghun? That village was in the next valley over from Karshan!
She looked up at her uncle, aghast. “What’s going on over there?”
“You tell me. It’s not the rebels’ style to eradicate entire villages. Rival clans will temporarily band together to attack a clan that oversteps the unwritten rules of tribal warfare by too much.”
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend?” she said wryly.
“Exactly.”
“What are the unwritten rules of warfare over there?”
“They tacitly agree not to destroy one another. They steal livestock and women, but they don’t wipe anyone out. Their enemies need to live on to fight another day, or else the warfare that is their way of life will disappear.”
“In other words, they’re okay with fighting but make sure nobody wins.”
“In a nutshell, yes.”
She leaned forward. “Okay. So wiping out Karshan and Ghun is not normal rebel behavior. Which brings us back to the question of who else is fighting with the rebels over there?” She frowned as an idea occurred to her. “Or maybe it wasn’t rebels at all. Maybe it was someone impersonating rebels.”
“Give the girl a gold star,” Charles replied dryly. “Our analysts doubt the local rebels would have allowed foreigners embedded with them to wipe out either village.”
“Sounds like your people have a good handle on what’s going on over there. Why do you need me?”
“You got eyes on the fake rebels, directly. We’re hoping you saw something that might give away the identity of the forces pretending to be rebels.”
“I have no idea what I might have seen.”
“That’s why I’d like you to talk to a few of my people. They’ll guide you through remembering details that might not seem important you but which could be meaningful to them.”
“Will they tell me what they learn?”
“Why do you want to know?”
She wasn’t sure she was willing to talk to a U.S. government official about Dawn’s parentage just yet. Need to protect the infant overrode her curiosity about Dawn’s father.
“Call me nosy,” she replied lightly.
Charles smiled. “A true McCloud trait.”
She smiled, relieved to have gotten past the awkward moment.
“There’s another reason I wanted to talk with you this morning.”
“I figured as much. If you only wanted to know who the rebels were, you’d be talking with Alex. He’s brilliant and freakishly observant. He’s more likely than me to have noticed some detail that would identity of the attackers.”
Charles threw her a hard, intent look and muttered, “We really did underestimate you, didn’t we?”
She didn’t bother to reply. They both knew the answer to that one.
“Here’s the thing, Katie. Alex Peters has steadfastly refused all of our overtures for the past decade. And all of a sudden, here you are, in a perfect position to observe him. Talk to him, even. It’s a gift from God.”
“You want me to recruit him.”
She didn’t know whether to be outraged or merely saddened that her uncle would abuse their family connection like this. She supposed he thought he was doing the right thing. Everyone in her family was deeply patriotic.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he replied quickly.
Smart man. He must have read her distaste in her body language. He’d backed off faster than she expected.
“What can you tell me about Alex?” she asked. Might as well take advantage of her uncle’s position if he was planning to take advantage of hers.
“I expect you know more than I do.”
“Indulge me,” she replied lightly.
Charles pursed his lips, weighing her for a long moment. Then he leaned back in his desk chair, folded his hands across his stomach and assumed a storyteller’s tone of voice. “To understand Alex, you first must understand his father…”
Alex’s lawyer stared at him in open shock. “You’re serious?” Chester blurted.
“As a heart attack,” Alex replied firmly. “And Lord knows, I’ve got more money than I can ever spend.”
“Your investments have done very well,” the lawyer conceded. “I’ll file the emergency guardianship request this morning.”
“Text me when the judge approves it.”
“Will do. Give me a few days to draw up the long-term guardianship paperwork and get the legal adoption started. The fact that there’s no agent for the infant could be a bit of a hurdle, but our family law guys will come up with something. As for the other matter, I can have a trust fund set up by the end of the week.”
“Let me know when the paperwork is ready to sign.”
“While you’re here, how are things going? You’re…” the lawyer paused delicately, “…staying out of trouble?”
“If you mean, am I mixing drinking and driving, I’m not. I’m not gambling, and I haven’t hired a hooker since I went to jail. Haven’t you heard?” he added sarcastically. “I’m doing humanitarian work, now.”
Chester rolled his eyes. “I worry about you, Alex. You’ve had a rough few years.”
He sighed. “I appreciate you giving a damn about me.” God knew, there weren’t many people he could say that to
“You’ve got so much potential to do great things. I’d like to see you achieve it.”
He studied the lawyer, considering the man’s words. Potential? That would involve having goals. Passions. Of the intellectual variety, he amended quickly.
“While I didn’t expect you to start a family quite this way, I think it’ll be good for you,” Chester announced.
A family? Alex’s mind reared back in dismay This wasn’t a family. This was simply him looking out for a helpless infant with no family. Nothing more. He wasn’t emotionally attached to baby Dawn. He was just making sure the child had the resources to be safe. He could relate to being alone in the world at a young age. It sucked.
Chester had done much the same for him many years ago when his life imploded. The lawyer had quickly and quietly maneuvered Roman Koronov’s financial holdings into a trust for Alex sand his brothers shortly after Roman was arrested.
“Now, all you have to do is find a wife to go with your daughter,” Chester said jovially.
Alex jolted. A wife ? Him? He snorted in derision, but an image of Katie in the throes of an orgasm flashed into his mind, followed by memory of what it felt like to hold her in his arms as she cuddled up to him.
Bah. He wasn’t the marrying kind. He didn’t even trust her. She was a spy , for God’s sake. Or if she technically wasn’t one, she was damned well working for one.
He supposed there was a certain logic in being so attracted to her. The only family he’d ever known was in the spy business, as well. He must equate love with spies at some deep, subconscious level.
Screw that. He was done with the whole rotten, twisted head game.
He stood abruptly, and Chester rose with him. “I’ll be in touch, Alex.”
“Thanks,” he said shortly. Need to get out of this claustrophobic office rolled over him. He needed fresh air. Open space. Now.
* * *
Katie knew most of what Uncle Charlie told her. Roman Koronov lived and breathed espionage. He blatantly used his sons as a cover to come to America and taught his boys the tools of the trade.
She hadn’t heard that Roman had openly recruited his son to spy for Russia, but it didn’t surprise her. The rest of it, she’d pretty much pieced together.
Although, she hadn’t realized the extent of Alex’s rebellion in his late teens and early twenties. He’d glossed over the wildness of his misspent youth, but she supposed she couldn’t blame him for that. And he was clearly trying to put it behind him, now.
She was shocked to hear that he’d begged a judge to throw him in jail. Less shocking was hearing the CIA’s assessment that it had been an effort to hide from his father’s aggressive recruiting tactics.
“Do you know how much money he won gambling?” she asked curiously.
“Our estimate is around ten million dollars.”
Wow. No wonder the mob hated his guts.
She ventured to ask the one question that had been nagging at her the most. “What do you know about his mother?”
“We have reason to believe she was a KGB employee. In what capacity, we have no idea. She could have been anything from a secretary to a full-blown field operative. We don’t know why they split up. It’s possible she chose to pursue her career and let Roman exploit the children to gain entry to the States. All three boys are exceptionally intelligent and talented. Roman’s visa request sites needing to get the boys topnotch educations as his cause for coming here.”
“Any guess as to Mom’s identity?”
Charles shook his head in the negative.
Too bad.
“We know Alex retains contacts within the FSB. We know they’d love to get their hooks into him. I’d be shocked if Koronov isn’t trying to pull his son into the FSB.”
She studied her uncle thoughtfully. “So, you’re hoping to turn Alex. Recruit him to work for you and send him into the FSB as a mole.”
He shrugged. “I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.”
“Whatever,” she muttered. She was right .
Aloud, she said, “What makes you think the FSB will ever trust him? The way I hear it, Alex has never made any secret of his preference for the United States over Russia. This is his home and his loyalties lie here.”
“It’s not about loyalty. It’s about leverage,” Charles replied sharply.
She turned that over in her mind and reluctantly saw the reasoning. If people could be bought, blackmailed, or coerced, loyalty wouldn’t really matter. The pressure that could be brought to bear to make someone serve a master—willingly or unwillingly—was way more important than loyalty or patriotism. A dirty business, this espionage stuff. No wonder Alex was so cynical on the subject.
And no wonder he’d been so reluctant to call in that favor from the Russian government. He’d understood full well that he was giving the FSB an opening to sink its hooks into him.
That had been why a Russian plane came racing down to Zaghastan to pick them up! The Russian government—and his father—desperately wanted Alex to owe them his life.
The sacrifice he’d made to get the three of them out of Zaghastan had been much larger, than she’d realized. Gratitude and renewed respect for him filled her.
Suddenly, today’s meeting made perfect sense, as well. Charlie did her a favor by pulling strings to get that embassy gate opened for her in Tashkent, and now he was collecting on it. These guys could either scratch your back or twist your arm. Take your pick.
No wonder Alex was a head case if a man who operated from this perspective had raised him.
Trying, but probably failing, to keep the cynicism out of her voice, she asked, “So, if I recruit Alex for you, what are you willing to do for me?”
“By God, you’re a quick study,” he muttered. “I suppose I’ll owe you a favor.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Bringing in the son of a high-ranking FSB operative? You’ll owe me more than a lousy favor. You’ll owe me something huge.”
“Agreed.”
“What if I merely prevent Alex from working for the Russians? Would that be enough for you?”
“It would not be my ideal outcome, but it would be better than nothing.”
“There is something you can do for me now, Uncle Charlie. Consider it a down payment on that future massive thing you’ll owe me.”
“You’ll help with Alex, then?” her uncle asked quickly.
“I need to know who the father of the infant we brought out with us is. And I need to find out quietly. Secretly, even.”
Charles pursed his lips. He hadn’t missed the fact that she hadn’t agreed to work on Alex, yet. “Secretly is how we operate around here, Katie. I’m sure the baby’s father is dead. Karshan was wiped out as completely as Ghun. What little satellite imagery we have of the area that night shows only two survivors egressing from the area.”
The CIA had been watching her and Alex that godawful night? The idea made her feel exposed, even now, well after the fact. Was anything anyone did private anymore?
She wasn’t sure she could trust her uncle not to use Dawn’s parentage against her, but he clearly was eager to have her recruit Alex. And how else would she ever get the information she needed about Dawn?
Reluctantly she admitted, “Dawn’s father was not Zaghastani. He was Caucasian.”
Her uncle stared at her. Score one for her…she’d actually managed to shock him.
He leaned forward and pushed a button on his phone. “I need a list of every male Caucasian observed entering the Karshan Region from April to July of last year.”
“Won’t that request cause a lot of questions?” she blurted.
“People around here don’t ask unsolicited questions if they want to keep their jobs.”
Good point. “How long will it take to get that list?”
“A day. Maybe two. Depends on how long it takes to make ID’s of anyone we haven’t already tagged. I’ll let you know as soon as I have it.”
She nodded her thanks.
“And you’ll try to bring Alex around?”
That was a nice way of describing blatant coercion. “I’ll test the waters,” she said warily.
“And report back to me?”
“Sure.” She had no illusions that obtaining the list of names wouldn’t hinge on a positive progress report with Alex.
Charles stood up. “I’d see you out myself, but I have a meeting in a few minutes.”
“Of course. Thanks for your help, Uncle Charlie,” she said brightly.
His eyes narrowed. Crud. He’d caught that she was mocking him.
“If you ever want a job here at the agency, young lady, you let me know.”
She laughed softly as she stepped out of his office. Not a chance . But it was nice to know someone in her family finally got that she wasn’t a totally brainless child.