Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Someone is either setting up the Volkovs, or Grigory Volkov is a freaking idiot, and since he’s survived this long, the latter is doubtful,” Harper announced, sitting next to Roman during the web call Wednesday morning, five hours after A.J. had bared his soul to Ana out on the porch.
A.J. folded his arms and glimpsed Ana out of the corner of his eye. She was in the leather chair in Grant’s office, hands knotted together on her lap, most likely bracing herself for whatever news Harper planned on sharing.
She was tense again. In desperate need of relaxing.
On the other hand, after his strange ghost-dream encounter with Marcus in the middle of the night, he felt the opposite of rigid.
The burden of guilt he’d shouldered for years after Marcus died had started to lift.
Dream or not, something had clicked. Made him feel a little better about allowing himself to be truly happy.
As much as A.J. had wanted to take Ana back to his bed after the hot, emotionally charged kiss on the porch, he was doing his best to behave and wait for her to let him know when she was ready.
So, he’d been a good boy and jerked off in a cold shower after tucking Ana back into bed, same as he’d done after going down on her by the pond.
But based on her posture now, he’d need to help her loosen up again. For her sake, of course.
“The proprietary research the missing California source had been working on was sold on the Dark Net by a Volkov agent out of Budapest, but I think it’s a pseudonym,” Harper explained, “and the funds were traced to—”
“Let me guess, the same account in the Maldives?” A.J. finished for her.
“Yeah, we still haven’t been able to lock down a name.
And although the Feds are aware of the sale by the alleged Volkov agent, they haven’t tied the transaction to the bank in the Maldives yet.
” Harper pushed back from her desk a few inches, revealing one of her signature T-shirts, this one black with gold letters that read “You Matter” with a gold atom beneath the words.
“So, I think it’s safe to say someone wants the Feds to believe the Volkovs are behind the disappearance of the sources. ”
“But they’d prefer the Feds not locate the funds in the Maldives,” A.J. concluded.
“And the backup plan . . . no extradition if the FBI does track the money there,” Harper reminded him.
“I have to assume,” Ana began, “that if the Bureau easily tracked the one account to the Caymans, it was because whoever is pulling the strings wanted that account found?”
“I’d say yes.” Harper flicked her dark hair to her back. Her glossy locks pin-straight today instead of casual and wavy.
Roman’s dark eyes narrowed as he peered in their direction.
“We believe the SVR is setting up the Volkovs, but I don’t think they’ll make a move against the Volkovs until they can verify Grigory Volkov isn’t in possession of another copy of both the ledger and key.
So, they’re using The Huntsman to set up the Volkovs and draw the focus of the FBI to them,” Harper explained.
“They must have a middleman, though, to create a layer of separation between them and what’s going on.
And that’s who hired Ivan. It’s quite possibly the mole at the FBI. ”
“Yeah, because Ivan accepting a job from the SVR makes about as much sense as a screen door on a submarine.” No damn way. “The SVR murdered his brother. So, if this is the work of The Huntsman, he sure as hell doesn’t have a clue the SVR is pulling his strings.”
Ana swiveled the chair to face A.J. “Yeah, I think the middleman—the real mole at the Bureau—would have hired him on behalf of the SVR.”
“Also”—Harper drew their focus back her way—“we did get a hold of the case file from the day Ana’s parents died. The names of all the acting agents have been redacted. I’m working on getting the non-sanitized version, but Director Mendez isn’t prepared to hand it over to our contact there.”
“Orders will need to come from above.” A.J. stole a quick look at Ana. She was wearing the same pajama shorts and red tank she had on at dinner last night, but he’d changed into a pair of black running shorts and white tee after his jerk-off session in the shower.
“Above as in who above?” Ana peered at A.J., waiting for an answer, and he’d nearly forgotten she didn’t know his team was on good terms with the President not only because Knox was his son, but because they directly reported to the Commander in Chief.
“Just above-above.” Harper shot daggers A.J.’s way when he returned his focus to the screen, warning him not to expose their secret.
“Damn, woman, I felt that.” A.J. set a hand to his side and playfully winced as though she’d actually jabbed him with a knife, and Harper rolled her eyes.
“We’ll try and get the files,” Roman said with a confident nod. “The movie theater had security cams positioned on the parking lot, but there was damage to the footage. Jessica is doing her best to fix the film and piece together what she can.”
“Kind of suspect to me,” A.J. commented. “Sounds like someone doesn’t want that footage to be seen.”
“What exactly does the report say?” Ana asked, curiosity in her tone. Was she having doubts about the story Porter told her four months ago regarding the events of that night?
“The Bureau received a tip five minutes before the movie ended, notifying them that an armed couple, Volkov spies, were at the theater. No names provided, but your parents’ descriptions were given. An agent happened to be doing surveillance for another matter nearby, so he was the first on scene.”
“Annnd like I said . . . suspect.” A.J. snickered. “A hundred bucks says that agent was also the one to shoot your parents.” He gave Ana an apologetic look. He hadn’t meant to come across as cavalier or casual about her parents’ death.
She offered him a light shake of the head that said It’s okay, but he still felt like a jerk.
“The report claims two agents were face-to-face with your parents when they resisted arrest. The agent who arrived first to the scene was, in fact, also the agent who fired the fatal shots. We’ll call him Agent One until we have his real name.
” Harper’s brow scrunched. “Well, wait, did Porter give you a name?” Harper positioned her eyes on Ana but continued before Ana could respond.
“Surely the man who took the shots wouldn’t escape his memory.
Did he memorize all the agents on scene that night? ”
“Unfortunately, Porter said the man who killed my parents died of a heart attack not too long after my parents died,” Ana responded.
“How convenient,” A.J. said with more than a touch of sarcasm.
After Ana provided the name of the shooter, along with a list of every agent’s name Porter had given her, A.J. asked, “Is it possible the shooter was a Russian spy for the SVR, and he was never really nearby doing surveillance? Maybe he was even the tipster.”
“And while the Feds were at the theater, the Russians tossed my house in search of the key and ledger,” Ana finished A.J.’s line of thinking since they’d had a similar discussion by the pond last night, but with the new details about the case, it was looking to be more fact than theory.
“If we assume the ledger and key are real, and the Russians did get their hands on at least one of them, which then led to the end of the Volkovs . . . then yeah, I think it’d make the most sense that the FBI shooter was also a spy for the Russians,” Roman answered.
“You and Porter find anything out on the other agents who’d been on scene that night? ”
“Aside from a few using their badge to get out of some local parking tickets, they came up clean from what we could tell. No patterns in their cases or arrests that would suggest they were or still are Russian spies.” Ana sat back and gripped the arms of her chair.
“We’ll take another look at the names you gave us, but I still want the original report to ensure we aren’t missing a crucial piece of information,” Harper said. “And once Jessica gets that footage pieced together, I think we’ll know more.”
“But?” Ana had quickly read Harper.
“Since Porter was one of the agents who’d been working the Volkov case prior to the shooting, and he was there that night—plus, he took an interest in helping you .
. . we have to look into him, too. And I know that makes you uncomfortable, which is why we’ll be the ones handling it.
” Harper’s tone was apologetic. “Porter was aware of your plan to place Katya into WITSEC, and at this point, we don’t know who else knew. ”
“I’m pretty sure Porter was being chased by The Huntsman on Monday,” Ana quickly countered while standing, pushing the chair back, ready to defend her boss.
“Or he lied about his car going off the road when he called to tell you to enact the backup plan and run, knowing the truth would come out about your past, and you’d look guilty.
Then he had someone remove files from his house before you got there to keep the truth about your assignment from being revealed, and you’d be none the wiser.
” Roman’s dark words and ominous tone had Ana turning from the screen.
Damn Roman and his way of cutting straight to the facts without sugarcoating them.
And wait, what files?
“How’d you know about the files?” Ana asked, purposefully avoiding eye contact with A.J.
“I didn’t, but you just confirmed there were indeed files.” Roman leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “There had to be a damn good reason you went into your boss’s house that night, and getting your Volkov case files, the evidence to prove your innocence, sounded like a good one to me.”
Ana finally faced A.J. and mouthed, “I’m sorry,” but all he could focus on was the fact someone out there knew the truth about her undercover work and what that meant for her safety.
How could he have been so stupid? She’d avoided talking about why she’d been in Porter’s house, and now it made perfect sense why she was keeping the truth from him.
He’d freak the fuck out that she was in far more danger than he realized.
“I’m not an idiot,” Ana went on, “I was not conned again.” A.J.
saw the tears from past betrayals on the brink of spilling over, but she was fighting to stay strong.
And he hoped like hell the bomb Roman had just dropped in her lap wouldn’t prove to be true.
“Porter is not setting me up. There has to be another explanation that makes more sense.”
“Sometimes it takes someone on the outside to help with objectivity,” Roman added, and A.J. was well aware the statement was also meant for him. He was obviously still worried about A.J.’s unwavering support of Ana.
Ana held a hand in the air like a shield, fending off further disappointment. “Porter wasn’t one of the first agents on scene that day.”
“According to Porter he wasn’t the first on scene. What if he conveniently gave you the name of someone who died to protect you from finding out the truth,” Roman insisted, playing devil’s advocate. “Maybe Porter even fired the fatal shots?”
“Get the footage fixed from that night. It’ll prove his innocence, I’m sure.” Ana’s voice trembled. “Please,” she croaked out. “And if you really want to help, we need to make sure the forger shows up at the safe house Friday. It’s my way in with Grigory Volkov.”
“But, Ana, what if the man in Porter’s house that night was a Volkov agent, and he knows you’re undercover?” A.J. asked.
Ana dragged her hands down her face. “Shit, I don’t know what to think.”
“Let’s handle one issue at a time. Based on your last conversation with Grigory, it didn’t seem like he suspected you’re undercover, correct?” Harper came to Ana’s rescue as the voice of reason.
“Not from what I could tell,” Ana replied.
“Let’s get to the safe house and scope the place out.
Get a lay of the land.” Roman grabbed a pen, preparing to write down the address.
“What’s the location?” Ana offered the address of a cabin in Carrollton.
“I’ll send Chris and Finn over to do some recon.
It’s not that far from the Alabama-Georgia border. ”
“Thank you.” Ana’s hands went to her bare arms, and she smoothed her palms up and down in a comforting motion. “What about The Huntsman’s location? The missing sources? Or you know, pick a problem and answer.” A hint of a smile brushed across her lips.
“Still working on The Huntsman’s location, but I think we can draw him out to the safe house in Carrollton. Kill two birds with one stone. Find out where he stashed the sources, if they’re still alive, and who hired him,” Harper suggested, and the blood drained from A.J.’s face.
“And put Ana in even more danger?” A.J. spoke through gritted teeth. He couldn’t handle much more conversation that resulted in further jeopardizing her safety.
“You promised to help no matter what,” Ana reminded him, her eyes thinning.
Shit. This was not going to be easy.
“The longer we drag this out, the worse it will get,” Harper said. “And I know what you’re thinking, A.J., but she’ll have us outside that cabin. We won’t let Ivan, or anyone for that matter, hurt her. And keep in mind, she’s a trained Federal agent.”
A.J. forced his gaze away from Ana to let Harper in on exactly “what he was thinking”—well, he’d planned to, but then he took a breath and pulled his shit together. “And Ivan is the freaking boogeyman of hitmen, so . . .”
“So, it’ll be nice to take him down, right?” Harper flashed an innocent smile. The one she used when she wanted to wrap the guys around her little finger—her dark brows lifted, a casual curve to her lips. It worked every time, especially on Roman.
A.J. quickly shifted his attention to Ana when he felt her soft touch on his arm. The plea in her eyes just about did him in. Both strong-minded women were weaponizing their skills on him at the same time.
And he was screwed.