26. Dmitri
Dmitri
The knock on my office door comes at ten sharp, and I already know Pavel’s standing there with another folder full of shit I don’t want to deal with.
“Come in.”
He walks in wearing the same practical, tactical clothes as always, and a briefcase in his hand. The guy looks like he’s ready for war, not a meeting.
“We’ve got problems,” he says without bothering with pleasantries.
I lean back in my chair and eye him. Ever since the mess at the estate, something about Pavel has bugged me. The man knows way too much about government operations for an ex-military contractor, and his obsession with Katya keeps setting off alarms in my head.
But he’s brought me a lot of useful information, so I’ve chosen to keep him on for the time being.
“I got with Viktor and analyzed his intel. Surveillance teams are all over your properties.” He pops open his briefcase and pulls out a tablet. “This isn’t some amateur-hour bullshit. We’re talking government-level resources.”
The photos he shows me make my blood run cold. Multiple positions around my building, the gallery, and three other places I own. The equipment in these shots costs more money than most people see in a lifetime.
I reach for the vodka bottle on my desk even though it’s barely past breakfast.
“What do they want?”
“Information on your organization. Financial records, personnel files, and operational structure. Standard stuff for building criminal cases.” Pavel closes the tablet and looks me in the eye. “They’re being thorough about it.”
I down the vodka in one shot and slam the glass on my desk hard enough to make Pavel jump. “What’s your recommendation?”
“Countermeasures. Electronic scramblers for audio, window treatments for visual, and secure communication protocols. The whole package.”
“How fast?”
“I can start today if you approve it. Full operational security in three days.”
Something about his timeline bothers me. Most consultants need weeks to plan this kind of operation, but Pavel talks like he’s got everything ready to roll.
“You seem pretty prepared for this. You’ve beaten government surveillance before?”
“Successfully enough that my clients stayed in business and out of prison.”
I watch his face while he talks. Pavel discusses defeating federal surveillance like he’s reading from a manual he knows by heart. Either he’s the most experienced contractor in Moscow, or he’s full of shit.
“What about electronic intercepts? Phones, emails, digital stuff?”
“That’s where it gets tricky. Electronic surveillance tech has come a long way. Standard encryption won’t cut it against what they’re throwing at us.”
“What will?”
“I can check out their specific capabilities and develop targeted responses. My background makes me the right guy to assess electronic threats.”
His background. Pavel keeps dropping hints about specialized knowledge without explaining how he learned to beat federal intelligence operations.
“I know how these agencies work, what they can do, and how to shut them down.”
I walk to the window and look down at the street. Three vehicles are parked in perfect positions to watch my building’s entrances. None of them were there yesterday.
“How many teams do you think we’re dealing with?”
“Six minimum, maybe twelve, depending on their setup. They’re rotating people to stay invisible, but the equipment gives them away.”
“Federal agents?”
“Or contractors working for federal agencies. For our purposes, who they are doesn’t matter.”
Pavel joins me at the window and points at a white van across the street. “Long-range audio. Probably picks up conversations through these windows. The sedan next to it has camera gear that documents everyone who comes and goes.”
“Motherfuckers.”
“They’re good, but not invisible. I can get detailed intel on their capabilities.”
“How?”
“Personal recon. I’ll check out their positions, test their awareness, and figure out what equipment they’re running.”
“Sounds risky.”
“Less risky than operating blind. If they spot me, they’ll think I’m just another contractor doing routine security checks.”
“And if they figure out that you’re more than a contractor?”
“They won’t. I know how to blend in.”
Pavel’s confidence bugs me more than his expertise. He talks about surveilling federal agents like this is a standard consulting service, not something that could get him arrested or killed.
“When would you do this recon?”
“Tonight. Surveillance teams work differently after hours, and I can move around without attracting attention.”
“What kind of intel do you expect to get?”
He shrugs and replies, “Everything we need to design effective countermeasures.”
I pour another glass and consider his proposal. Pavel’s eagerness to investigate federal surveillance seems off for a security consultant, but his expertise has been solid. If government agents are building a case against my organization, I need to know what they’re capable of.
“Do it. But I want regular check-ins during your little spy mission.”
“Secure comms only. Regular phones and devices are compromised.” Pavel opens his briefcase and pulls out two devices that look like souped-up radios. “Military-grade encrypted communication. Frequency-hopping tech prevents intercepts.”
Again with the specialized equipment ready to go. Either Pavel keeps an impressive inventory of spy gear, or he’s got access to resources most contractors don’t.
“You just carry military communication gear in your consulting kit?”
“I carry what clients like you need.”
“And you got these resources through private channels?”
“Through channels that prioritize client security over red tape.”
Another dodge wrapped in consultant speak. Pavel deflects questions about his background exceptionally well, but his evasions just make me more suspicious about what he’s up to.
“Fine. Do your recon and get back to me with actionable intel.”
“Copy. What about your wife during the operation?”
“What about her?”
“She should know about the surveillance threat and follow security protocols until we get countermeasures in place.”
I think about Katya’s recent behavior. The way she’s been avoiding eye contact and having weird one-sided conversations when she thinks I’m not listening. Something changed after we got back from the estate. I just wish I knew what.
“I’ll handle my wife’s security.”
“Of course. But if she doesn’t know the threat level, she might accidentally compromise?—”
“She won’t compromise anything.”
Pavel nods but doesn’t look satisfied. “I’ll start recon at twenty-two hundred and maintain comms throughout.”
“Timeline for results?”
“Preliminary assessment by morning, detailed analysis within forty-eight hours.”
“And implementing the countermeasures?”
“Depends on what I find out about their capabilities. Could be days or weeks.”
After Pavel leaves to prep for his nighttime spy games, I sit in my office staring at the encrypted radio he gave me.
The thing looks military-issue despite his claims about private sources.
Either Pavel has incredible connections in the defense world, or he’s accessing equipment through official channels he doesn’t want to discuss.
My phone buzzes with a text from Alexei.
Kuznetsov family wants to meet. They’re nervous about government heat.
I type back: Next week. We’ve got bigger problems.
Need backup?
Not yet. Will keep you posted.
I pocket the phone and check the time. Katya’s been holed up in the bedroom for three hours, and I haven’t heard any movement. When I knocked earlier, she said she was napping, but her voice sounded wide awake.
Something’s wrong with my wife.
If Katya remembers who she is, if she knows why she was in my organization and what I’ve done since the explosion, then everything becomes a threat.
But that’s not possible. If Katya remembered who she is, she would be in here, ripping me to shreds.
Wouldn’t she?