Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
“I need one more minute.”
“Like hell you do,” Jack said into Natasha’s ear. “Boris is coming in hot. He’ll be inside the hotel in two minutes.”
“Which means my one minute is good.” Her fingers raced over the keys as she continued to work.
She wasn’t the best coder at the Agency, but she was the best currently on assignment in Russia, and she had to know—she had to take the one damn minute to follow the trail to see if her gut was right.
The Knight had been off the radar since his supposed death sixteen months ago, but like hell was he really gone.
“You got what we needed. Get out now,” Jack ordered.
His team had been assigned to Moscow three months ago, only one week after she’d been delivered orders to report there for six months (or longer) of deep-cover work related to the recent string of anti-Western terrorist activities.
Her father clearly stepped in, pulling strings to get Jack assigned there. Her dad’s worry for her had no boundaries, and his influence rang high in Washington.
“One more second,” she said under her breath, quickly inputting a string of commands into the laptop, hoping to open Pandora’s box and discover the source of the intel—the person, or group, behind the hack.
Whenever a hacker was found to be connected to terrorist activity anywhere in the world, Natasha always pushed the Agency to double-check the code to ensure it wasn’t The Knight’s handiwork.
Each programmer had a distinct coding style, a sort of digital fingerprint, and in the case of The Knight, he’d always left an electronic calling card behind as well.
Since this latest hack involved her targets, there was no way she could pass up the chance to check a connection to The Knight herself.
“You’re out of time. Boris is in the elevator. I’m catching the next ride up.”
“Stand down,” she shot back her own order. “I’ve got this.”
“If he finds you in that room, the mission is blown,” he said in a low voice. “Out. Now.”
She executed another set of commands, a string of ones and zeros—binary code . . . I’m close. I can feel it.
“He’s on your floor. You’re done.”
A swirl of green letters and numbers flashed onto the screen. Encrypted. But that didn’t matter. She got what she was after—evidence to prove she wasn’t crazy, evidence that her mark was still out there and living freely.
She whipped out her phone and took a photo of his online handle, an image of a knight chess piece bouncing around in the corner of the screen. It’d almost been too easy to find, almost like candy had been set out for her . . .
He knew I was here. He knew I was following Boris.
Her heart slammed harder and harder, adrenaline pumping. She exited the program with shaky fingers and finished deleting all evidence she’d been on his laptop just as the slow scrape of the door against the worn-out, frayed carpet announced Boris’s arrival.
She spun around and took in all six and a half feet of him as he caught sight of her from where he stood in the doorway.
A litany of angry Russian words struck her, and Boris’s thick fingers dug into the side of her throat. She wasn’t allowed to kill the bastard, and even a suppressed shot to the leg to get him off her could go upside down.
He maintained a firm grip on her neck as she opted for hand-to-hand combat. She was rusty after spending most of her time behind a computer screen. She should’ve gotten out more. Trained more.
She lifted her arms, moved her wrists outward against his forearms, and applied pressure to weaken his hold of her throat.
At the same time, she wedged her knee between their bodies and connected her kneecap to his groin.
A maneuver that’d never get old, especially when a five-seven female was up against a man double her size.
But the son of a bitch held on tight and didn’t even let out a groan. Did he have balls of steel?
She positioned her elbows on top of his arms and used the weight of her body to drop, then pivoted to the side as quickly as possible.
His hands slipped free, and he lost his grasp, giving her enough time to shift to the side and plant a roundhouse kick to his cheek.
He stumbled, nearly falling backward onto the bed, but he quickly regained his balance and was moving in her direction when Jack arrived.
It was now two against one.
Boris caught sight of Jack and pivoted his way, but he didn’t stand a chance. Jack was too fast.
A blur of movements followed as Jack took the guy down to the ground.
He zip-tied his hands behind his back, then stuck a needle in the side of his neck to knock him out. “This was not the plan,” he hissed, barely breaking a sweat while standing over the sleeping Russian.
“I have the buyer information,” she said with relief. “The weapons deal is two days from now.”
“But we don’t have the location,” Jack said while bringing his phone to his ear.
“We need cleanup in room two-twenty.” He listened to the other person on the line.
“Yeah, he’s still alive,” he said before ending the call.
“You’re gonna get your ass chewed out for this, and you know it.
” He pocketed his phone. “And you could’ve gotten yourself killed. ”
“Yeah,” she said with a shrug, “and what else is new?”
Natasha had a good idea what to expect as she approached the SCIF, which was pronounced “skiff” by everyone.
The Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility was a secure room for discussing sensitive info, and the bold black letters of the acronym on the door reinforced the significance of what went on inside.
She entered her passcode, swiped her badge at the scanner, then pushed open the heavy door.
The Chief of Station caught her eyes the moment she entered, and he abruptly rose from his seat. He stalked straight at her and pointed to a closed room off to her right.
She followed orders and went inside the room usually reserved for getting your ass chewed out. Today was her lucky day. Given what happened at the hotel earlier, she’d been expecting it.
“What in the hell were you thinking?” Raulson pushed his tie out of the way as if it were an inconvenience, but the skinny fabric swung back in place.
“I couldn’t just walk away without knowing for sure.
It was The Knight. He hacked the weapons facility.
Look at Boris’s laptop, and you’ll see. I think he’s in Canada, too.
” Since Boris had been unconscious while they waited for an extract, she’d taken the time to download the files from his computer to a USB drive before heading back to the Station.
It’d only taken her three hours, but she’d traced the hacker IP address to Montreal. She’d be due for another ass chewing once her COS found out she’d gone ahead and decrypted the message and traced it without permission.
“He’s been off the grid for sixteen months.
If he’s really alive, why surface now?” He tossed a hand through the air.
“And for that matter, why use the same handle and tip us off he’s alive?
That’d be a rookie mistake, which we all know one thing the asshole wasn’t, was a rookie.
Maybe we’re dealing with a copycat, but—”
“It’s not a copycat. The Knight wants me to know he’s alive. For us to know.” She stepped closer to her boss. “Don’t you get it, it’s all a game to him.” Over a year of searching for this bastard and now there was proof she wasn’t crazy. He was alive.
“And how’d you find out he was in Montreal? Why would The Knight make it that easy?” He tightened his arms across his dress shirt and stared her down.
Because he’s baiting me. He wants me there. And how could she not go, trap or not?
“Come on, Chandler,” he said when she didn’t answer. “You’re chasing ghosts. You’ve got to stop. You’re killing yourself trying to find this guy. And you disobeyed orders earlier. You lost sight of the mission because of your obsession with this man.”
“We have Boris. We can get him to lead us to the weapons sale,” she challenged.
“That wasn’t the plan. If the buyer learns the meet has been blown and that Boris was picked up, what then?
If he doesn’t show, we lose the buyer. The terrorists will go somewhere else to buy weapons, and then we won’t be able to stop whatever attack they’re planning.
” He turned toward the door and hung his head.
“Everyone warned me you were a loose cannon. I didn’t listen, but they were right. ”
“What are you saying?”
“You’re getting back on a plane tomorrow. Hell, tonight if I can swing it.” Raulson slowly faced her, the angry draw of his lips quivering as if he were resisting spewing words he might later regret. “Not even your father can get you out of this mess.”
This could not be another Algeria. Another instance where she got kicked out of Station, letting The Knight slip through her fingers.
“And those orders came from the ambo, right?” She tsked. “He’s been looking for any reason he can find to get me out of Moscow.”
“No, Chandler. This is because of your lone wolf shit.” He let go of a long, drawn-out sigh. “We’re done here. You’ll be lucky if you ever get another field assignment again.” He left the room without another word, and she slammed her palms against the wall by the door.
“You okay?” She peered to her right to see Jack in the doorway.
“It’s over. I’m getting PNG’d back to Langley.” Algeria all over again.
“This about earlier, or about you pissing off the ambo by turning down his request for you to screw him?” His brown brows lifted in question.
“How’d you know the ambassador hit on me?” Her arms crashed to her sides as he shut the door so they could be alone.
“I overheard him, and it took all my restraint not to take him down. It sounded like you had it handled, anyway.”
“He’s an ass, but he’s not my problem right now. I should say that I screwed up by breaking orders, but—”
“You still feel you did what was right?”
“I got confirmation The Knight is active again, and I even have a location.”
He gripped hold of her bicep. “Maybe it’s time you turn this over to someone else?”
“How can you say that? You know how important this is to me. You know what he did to our people. I can’t let this go.”
“Tasha, you’ve been going nonstop these last few years. You don’t make it home at Christmas, you never date, you—”
“You’ve been talking to Gray?” She perked a brow.
“I don’t have to. I see you more than your family. Your brother worries about you. Everyone worries about you.” He dragged a hand through his brown hair. “And there’s something you should know.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m finally getting out. This was my last contract.”
“Really?” She’d heard that before. He was addicted to the work, and it was why he hadn’t been in a relationship since his ex-wife left. He was too worried a woman would try and force him to choose her over the job again.
“Your brother finally convinced me to work with him.”
“Ah.” She smiled. “So, you’re not really out, just not working with the Agency anymore.”
“Pays better,” he said with a wink. “And it’d be nice to work with Gray again.”
“He could use a guy like you on his team.”
“But that means I won’t be out here to have your back anymore.”
She hung her head. “Sounds to me like I won’t even be allowed in the field for you to worry about anyway.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“Maybe I need a vacation?”
“You serious? You’ll let the Agency handle the lead?”
“Sure,” she lied, not even flinching. No poker bluffing signs on display.
“Tasha.” Her name rumbled under his breath.
She opened the door and shot him back a look. “What?”
“Do me a favor, I have two more weeks here before I’m out, don’t go getting yourself into trouble before then.”
“So, you’re saying wait two weeks?” She flashed him a smile.
“Or how about don’t get into trouble at all?”
“Now you know I can’t make a promise like that.”