Chapter 16
"Talk to me."
"Krause just called. Multiple vehicles, lights on inside. He's got eyes on at least two men, possibly more."
My grip tightened on the wheel. "Russians?"
"Can't confirm yet, but the cars are high-end rentals. Black SUVs. Professional setup. I’m betting your hunch is going to be right." Simon paused. "Code, Krause says these guys move like operators. This definitely isn't Russell."
"I'm twenty minutes out."
"Krause is holding position across the street. He'll wait for you."
I disconnected and pushed the rental car faster through evening traffic. Katherine's face flashed through my mind. I'd made a promise to keep her safe.
This ends tonight.
Laurel Canyon Boulevard snaked up into the hills. Small houses and multi-million-dollar mansions clung to the hills behind brick walls and high hedges.
I found Krause's pickup one hundred meters down from Andy Fritz's place.
I parked another fifty meters away, killed the engine, and walked over to him.
The former SEAL leaned against the driver's door, arms crossed.
Maybe fifty, gray threading through his buzz cut, built like he still put in gym time.
"Drakos." He offered his hand.
"Krause. What have we got?"
"Two men inside. Big bastards. They've been inside the place for forty minutes." He jerked his chin toward the house. "Black Escalade out front, engine's still warm."
"Any sign of Russell Dunlap?"
"Negative. Place was empty when they arrived. Professional entry on the back door."
I studied the house. Mid-century ranch, probably worth four million despite needing work. Lights blazed in every window. These guys were confident.
"You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"These guys are looking for the same thing we are. Simon said you thought they were Russian. Why?"
“Russia has been looking for as much help as it can get on the technology front, and one of the ways it’s gotten a foot in the door is backing some shaky American tech ventures when they’ve gotten in over their heads.
I took a look at one of them, NewVation, and Russell just happened to have worked there.
That, and the financials tell me it was a decent hunch. ”
“I’d say you hit the jackpot.” Krause pulled a tactical knife from his belt and checked the edge. "Been a while since I had a good fight."
We bypassed the gate, went up the hill along the side of the property, and climbed over the vine-covered wall into the back yard.
The back door stood open. Fresh scratches around the lock.
We slipped inside. The kitchen smelled like old coffee and takeout. Voices carried from the front of the house. Russian. They were frustrated, coming up empty.
Krause raised his eyebrows. I held up two fingers, pointed to the living room, and made a circling motion. He nodded.
I moved down the hallway while Krause circled through the dining room. My Glock felt solid in my hand.
Through the living room doorway, I saw them—two men, both massive. The first had a shaved head and arms like tree trunks. The second was leaner but moved with controlled grace.
The bald one spoke into his phone in Russian. "Nothing yet. No computers, no files, nothing."
Pause.
"Yes. Yes. I understand. We’ll find it.” He hung up.
I’d bet anything it was Viktor Sokolov, a Russian tech investor with FSB connections. I'd tracked his operations in Ukraine.
The lean one checked his Makarov pistol, then spoke up. “He was pissed?”
“If Dunlap releases what he has on Pope, if it leads back to Viktor…"
"Then we find him before he does." The lean one shrugged. "Search the bedrooms again. I’ll take the study."
They split up. Baldy headed towards me. Lean went toward Krause.
I pressed against the wall. The Russian stepped into the hallway. He outweighed me by forty pounds. I drove the Glock's grip into his temple. He staggered but didn't go down.
His elbow caught me in the ribs. Pain exploded through my chest. I grabbed his arm and slammed him into the wall. Drywall cracked behind his head.
A gunshot boomed from the other room.
The Russian's fist connected with my jaw. I tasted blood. Grappling, we went through the hallway door into the living room, then crashed into a side table. A lamp shattered.
I hooked his leg and we went down. My head cracked against hardwood. His hands found my throat and squeezed.
Black spots danced across my vision. I yanked the tactical knife from my boot and drove it into his side. He roared. His grip loosened. I twisted the blade. He rolled off me.
Another gunshot. Glass shattered. Krause's voice, tight with pain. "Code!"
I grabbed the Russian's Makarov and put one round in his shoulder. He finally stopped moving.
I hauled myself up and stumbled toward the dining room. My ribs screamed.
Krause was down behind an overturned table, blood soaking through his left sleeve. The lean Russian advanced on him, Makarov raised.
I fired twice. Center mass. The Russian fell.
Krause pushed himself up with his good arm. "Took you long enough."
"You're welcome." I checked his wound. Through and through, high on the shoulder. "You'll live."
"Course I will." He grimaced. "But Jesus, I'm getting too old for this shit."
"You and me both."
The bald Russian groaned from the hallway.
I moved to him and crouched down. "Viktor Sokolov sent you," I said in Russian.
He spat blood.
I dug my knuckles into the knife wound until he screamed. "Where's Russell Dunlap?"
"We don't know. He disappeared after he contacted Eddie Pope."
"Eddie Pope from NewVation?"
"Yes. Pope went to Viktor for help." The words came out choked. "Dunlap is blackmailing him for twenty million dollars. Has a video of Pope confessing to murdering a prostitute. Deepfake, but impossible to prove. Viktor wants the technology back before Dunlap can use it again or sell it."
The pieces clicked into place. Russell must have built the deepfake system after he left NewVation, otherwise Viktor would have it already. Now he’s used it to blackmail his former boss and Katherine. Eddie Pope panicked and went to his Russian backers.
"What was Viktor going to use the technology for?"
"Elections. Disinformation." His eyes focused on me. "You are military. You understand what this technology can do."
I understood perfectly. Two years fighting Russian cyber operations in Ukraine had taught me.
"Does Viktor know about Kit Lord?"
"The actress.” He nodded. “Viktor says if her blackmail leads investigators to the technology, and ultimately to Viktor's involvement..." He shrugged and winced in pain.
Katherine was a loose end.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
"We need to move." Krause pulled out his phone with his good arm.
I grabbed both Russians' phones. Checked the bald one's pockets. Found a wallet with a California driver's license—fake name, but the face matched.
I moved through the house fast. Checked the desk, bedroom, bathroom, behind the toilet tank.
Nothing.
The sirens were getting closer.
"Back door." Krause was already moving.
We slipped through the back yard. Climbed the wall through overgrown vines and went down the hill to the street and Krause’s vehicle.
Krause leaned against his truck, breathing hard. Blood dripped from his fingertips.
"That needs stitches."
"I know a guy. Off the books." He pulled a first aid kit out of the truck’s bed and opened it. He took out an instant ice pack, squeezed it, and handed it to me. "Get an x-ray when you can."
I pressed the ice pack against my side. Pain shot through my chest. Definitely cracked a couple ribs.
"Thanks for the backup."
"Thanks for not letting me get shot in the face." He grinned despite the pain. "Simon said you were good."
"You too."
I climbed into my rental car and called Katherine. She answered on the first ring.
"Code, where are you? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Stay at Sophie's apartment. I'm coming to get you."
"What happened?"
"Not on the phone. Thirty minutes."
I disconnected and pulled a U-turn onto Laurel Canyon Boulevard.
Russell Dunlap had blackmailed Eddie Pope. Eddie Pope had gone to Viktor Sokolov. And now Viktor wanted the technology back and everyone connected to it eliminated.
Katherine was caught in the middle of international espionage.
My ribs throbbed with every breath. My jaw was swelling. But Katherine was alive and safe and would stay that way if I could get to her in time.
I pressed harder on the accelerator.
Because Viktor Sokolov didn't just want the technology back.
He wanted everyone connected to it dead.
My Katherine was very much connected.
And so was Sophie.