Chapter 31 Chris #2
Wyatt appears at my elbow, holds out a mug of steaming black coffee. The smell hits me—rich, dark, nothing like what I’d expect garage coffee to taste like. Mason and Maddox clearly don’t skimp on the important things.
“You tracking him?” Wyatt asks.
“Not actively. But his name keeps coming up in chatter.” Mason taps the screen. “He’s been Dragonov’s first choice for West Coast operations since the Corluka situation went sideways.”
I keep my expression neutral. Can’t mention that Tatiana’s using his daughter to get close. “What else do you have on him?”
Mason sets down the tablet, that particular stillness that means he’s accessing his mental files.
“Mikhail Volkov. Zavala had a whole section on him. Money man for the Corlukas originally, but smart enough to keep his options open. Has a daughter—Vera, early twenties. Wild child, gets into trouble daddy has to clean up.”
Wyatt and I exchange a quick glance. Zavala—the Mexico City cartel boss whose intel Mason spent three years gathering.
Wyatt was his handler during that op. I knew Zavala from the other side, through Amador’s organization.
Different perspectives on the same player.
Delgado eventually wiped him out before Operation Broken Heart concluded, but the intelligence Zavala compiled before his death is still proving useful.
“Here’s the interesting part,” Mason continues. “Zavala noted that Volkov had a side arrangement with someone close to the Amador organization. An ally, not inner circle. Small monthly payments going back at least a couple years. Steady. Predictable.”
“Laundering,” I say.
“Yeah. But then the payments changed.” Mason pulls up a timeline on his tablet. “By June, right before Zavala got killed, they’d increased. Significantly. Like whoever was making those payments suddenly had a lot more cash flow to clean.”
“How much more?” Wyatt asks.
“Enough to suggest they weren’t just keeping a side operation quiet anymore. They were building something.” Mason taps the screen. “Current intel from Agency sources shows those payments are still climbing. Someone’s consolidating power in Mexico and using Volkov to launder the proceeds.”
“Dragonov?” I suggest, though it doesn’t quite fit.
Mason shakes his head. “Wrong profile. Dragonov’s Serbian, just took over a fractured organization. Moving into Mexican territory that fast would require local connections, existing infrastructure. He’d face too much resistance.”
“So someone who was already positioned,” Wyatt says slowly. “Someone who was constrained while Amador, Zavala, and Delgado were fighting over territory, but who’s been waiting for exactly this kind of vacuum.”
“That’s Zavala’s theory from his notes,” Mason confirms. “He flagged it as someone being groomed from outside the main power structures. Not Gustavo—he made his play and we all know how that ended.”
“Rafael,” I say. The name that keeps surfacing in intel reports with no face attached to it.
“Yeah.” Mason looks between us. “That’s the name that keeps coming up in chatter. But nobody knows who the fuck Rafael actually is. No photos, no confirmed sightings, no clear organizational structure. Just money moving and a shell company name on intercepts.”
“If they’re trying to claim Vicente’s empire...” Wyatt says.
“They’d need to know who’s still loyal,” I finish. “Who might oppose them.”
“Or he’d want to find Vicente and Arturo themselves.
” Mason sets down the tablet. “Those two were enemies for thirty years, ran rival operations. Vicente was Amador—the name, the power, everything. Arturo had his own empire, just as strong. Now that they’re allied?
Together they control more reach than when Vicente had the physical routes in Mexico.
If someone’s trying to step into that vacuum, they’d need to either get their blessing or eliminate them as threats. ”
“And if this person learns they’re in therapy together...” Wyatt trails off.
My jaw tightens.
Wyatt winces, and I know he’s thinking the same thing I am—he’s the one who recommended her for this job. Put her in the crosshairs.
Mason looks between us, reading our tension. “A therapist would be the soft target. The way in.”
“She has security,” I say.
“Basic surveillance detection,” Wyatt counters. “Not enough if someone’s seriously hunting Vicente and Arturo.”
Mason picks up his tablet again. “Want me to keep digging on Volkov or focus on this Rafael?”
I check my phone. Almost noon. “Both. Keep tracking Volkov’s meetings with Dragonov’s people, but see what you can find on Rafael. Carefully though—we don’t even know who he really is.”
“Ghost in the machine,” Mason mutters, already typing. “Those are always the dangerous ones. I’ll let you know what I find.”
Wyatt follows me toward the door. “Chris.”
I turn.
“Tomorrow morning. Nine-thirty.”
Not a question. An expectation.
“I’ll be there.”
He nods and heads back up the stairs. I watch him go, then leave. The drive back to the hotel gives me time to think. Volkov. Dragonov. Someone who was once close to Amador’s organization getting payments. Rafael—whoever the hell he is—possibly hunting Vicente and Arturo.
Separate threads. Different operations. Probably nothing.
But parallel ops have a habit of colliding when you least expect it.