Chapter 24 - Tony
Tony
Boris drops a stack of financial records on Dmitri’s conference table hard enough to make me look up from my coffee.
“We’ve narrowed it down,” he announces.
I should be focused on those files. Should be analyzing every detail to identify Adrian’s mole. Instead, all I can think about is the way Sasha felt in my arms last night. The sounds she made when she came on my...
“Tony,” Dmitri prompts. “You with us?”
“Yeah.” I pull the top folder toward me. “What are we looking at?”
Boris spreads out several documents. “Three suspects with access to the information that’s been leaking to Adrian. Ivan from accounting, Sergei from operations, and Mikhail from security.”
I force myself to concentrate on the records. Numbers and dates that should tell a story if I can just focus long enough to read them.
“Ivan handles all wire transfers,” Boris continues. “He’d have direct access to the Geneva accounts we fabricated.”
“Sergei coordinates shipments,” Dmitri adds. “He knows our supply chains and distribution networks.”
“And Mikhail oversees compound security, but only over the last year. He was just an enforcer before that.” Boris taps a photograph clipped to one file. “He’d know guard rotations and surveillance blind spots.”
I review the financial records, looking for patterns. Unusual transactions. Timing that correlates with Adrian’s intelligence requests.
But my mind keeps drifting back to the hotel room. To Sasha asking about my uncle. About what made him patient. Nobody’s asked me questions like that in years. Personal questions that have nothing to do with missions or operations or what I can do for them.
She wanted to know about the man who raised me. About where I learned to wait for things that matter.
“Tony,” Dmitri says again, snapping his fingers. “Focus.”
I shake my head and lean over the documents. “Sorry. Give me Ivan’s records first.”
Boris slides a thick folder across the table. I flip it open and start reviewing transaction histories. Dates, amounts, and account numbers. Looking for anything that doesn’t fit the pattern.
“Check for anything that correlates with your reports to Adrian,” Dmitri explains. “If Ivan’s our leak, he’d be accessing files shortly after you feed Adrian false information. Then that same information would appear in Adrian’s follow-up questions or actions.”
I pull out my phone and check the dates of my last three calls with Adrian. Then I cross-reference them with Ivan’s access logs.
There. Three days after I mentioned the Geneva contacts, Ivan accessed those exact files.
“Ivan pulled the Geneva files on the eighteenth,” I note. “That’s seventy-two hours after I fed Adrian that information.”
“Could be routine,” Boris points out. “He handles those accounts.”
“What about the Cyprus information?” I flip through more records. “I mentioned that to Adrian on the twenty-third.”
Dmitri leans forward. “And?”
“Ivan accessed those files on the twenty-fifth. Same pattern.”
Dmitri frowns. “I don’t know. Ivan’s competent at his job, but he’s not sophisticated. He’s a numbers man. Keeps his head down. I can’t see him having the connections or the nerve to approach someone like Adrian.”
“Maybe Adrian approached him,” I suggest.
“Even so.” Dmitri shakes his head. “Ivan’s not worldly enough to navigate that kind of arrangement. He panics when wire transfers are delayed by a day. You think he could handle being a double agent?”
Boris pulls out Sergei’s records. “Let’s check the others before we jump to conclusions.”
We spend the next hour going through files. Sergei’s access logs don’t correlate with my Adrian calls at all. Mikhail’s show some overlap, but nothing as consistent as Ivan’s pattern.
“Three suspects,” Boris summarizes. “No smoking gun.”
“Ivan has the strongest correlation,” I point out. “But Dmitri’s right—he accesses these files as part of his regular duties. We can’t distinguish between legitimate work and leaking.”
“Mikhail’s activity is sporadic,” Dmitri adds. “Could be suspicious or could be nothing.”
“We need something definitive,” I state.
“Set a trap,” Dmitri suggests. “We’ll start with Ivan and create a new account. Something completely fabricated that doesn’t exist in anyone else’s records except Ivan’s access.”
I pull out a notepad. “Make it look legitimate. I’ll mention it to Adrian, and we give Ivan a reason to pull those files for ‘verification.’“
Boris nods slowly. “If the Luxembourg information appears in Adrian’s follow-up, we know Ivan’s feeding him.”
“Exactly.”
“How long will this take?” Dmitri asks.
“A week. Maybe less if Adrian’s eager.” I close the folders. “I’ll call him tonight, mention the Luxembourg expansion casually. We plant the files tomorrow, make sure Ivan has access. Then we wait.”
“I don’t like waiting,” Boris grumbles.
“Neither do I. But we can’t afford to be wrong.”
Dmitri dismisses Boris with a nod. After he leaves, Dmitri turns to me. “How was the hotel?”
Heat scorches my face as I clear my throat. “Fine.”
“Just fine?”
I don’t know how to answer that. Last night was more than fine. Last night was the first time in years I felt like maybe I could be someone worth saving.
“It went well. Adrian got an earful.”
“Good.” Dmitri stands. “Because my sister deserves better than someone who’s just going through the motions.”
“I’m not—”
“I know. I can see it.” He heads for the door. “Just don’t fuck this up, Tony. You won’t get another chance.”
After he leaves, I pull out my laptop and start building the false documentation we’ll need for the trap. Creating an operation from scratch requires details—account numbers that look real but lead nowhere, contact names that sound legitimate, and transfer schedules that match our usual patterns.
The work is tedious but necessary. Every detail has to be convincing enough to fool Adrian while being traceable enough to identify our leak.
I’m creating the third fictitious wire transfer when the conference room door opens. I expect Boris or Dmitri, but it’s Sasha.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey.”
She closes the door and sits in the chair Dmitri vacated. “How’d the briefing go?”
“We think it’s Ivan. Setting a trap to confirm.”
“That’s good.” She picks up one of the folders, glancing through it without really reading. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Last night, when I asked about your uncle—was that okay? Or was I pushing too hard?”
The question surprises me. “It was more than okay. Nobody’s asked me stuff like that in years.”
“Why not?”
“Because most people don’t care. They care about what I can do for them. What skills I have. What operations I’ve run. You cared about where I learned patience. About the man who raised me. That’s different.”
Sasha sets down the folder. “I’ve been thinking about something Katya said. About separating the mission from the man. About how Dmitri lied to her, but his actions after she learned the truth mattered more than the deception itself.”
“And?”
“And I’ve been trying to apply that to us. To separate what you were hired to do from who you actually are. I don’t know if I can fully trust you yet. But I want to try understanding who you are beneath the operative. I think maybe you’ve been trying to figure out the same thing about yourself.”
She’s right. I’ve spent so many years being whoever the mission needed me to be that I’m not sure I know who I am without the cover.
“Meeting you made me want to be someone better,” I admit. “Better than the man who took Adrian’s contract. Better than the operative who sees people as assets. I don’t know if I can become that person, but I want to try if you’ll give me the chance.”
“I’m willing to see what happens if we both try being honest from here forward. No more performances. No more lies. Just whatever this is between us.”
“That’s more than I deserve.”
“Maybe. But it’s what I’m offering.” She stands. “Don’t waste it, Tony.”
“I won’t.”
She starts to leave, then pauses at the door. “For what it’s worth, I think your uncle would be proud of the man you’re trying to become.”
Then she’s gone, and I’m alone with that thought.
Would my uncle be proud? Or would he be disappointed that it took me this long to remember his lessons?
I gather the financial records and head back to my room. I need to prepare for tonight’s call with Adrian. Need to plant the Luxembourg information convincingly.
But halfway down the hall, Boris appears from a side corridor.
“Walk with me,” he orders.
I follow him outside to the compound gardens. He doesn’t speak until we’re far from any buildings or potential listening devices.
“Most men would’ve cracked by now,” he finally states with a grunt. “The stress of lying to someone who still thinks you’re loyal—it breaks people.”
“I’ve had practice.”
“CIA?”
“Among other things.”
Boris stops at a bench and sits. I remain standing, unsure what this conversation is really about.
“Dmitri wants to trust you,” Boris continues. “So does Alexei. But they’re leaders. They have to think strategically. Me? I just care about keeping this family safe.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?” Boris looks up at me. “Because here’s what I see. I see a man who took money to destroy us. A man who lied to Sasha. A man who’s only here now because he got caught.”
“That’s fair.”
“But I also see a man who confessed when he could’ve kept lying.
A man who’s putting himself at risk to identify our real enemy.
A man who looks at Sasha like she’s the only thing keeping him human.
” Boris stands. “So I’m going to say this.
If you hurt her again—if you betray this family after we’ve given you a chance—I won’t wait for Dmitri’s orders.
I’ll put a bullet in your head myself. Understood? ”
“Understood.”
“Good.” Boris leaves me standing in the garden, processing what just happened.
Boris threatened to kill me. But he also called me smart. Acknowledged that I’m learning their methods. Suggested that I might belong here.
That’s as close to acceptance as I’m going to get from him. And somehow, it matters.