Chapter 16 Blackjack
BLACKJACK
Katarina came out of the bedroom at zero five thirty in one of my flannel shirts, carrying the two journals. She set it on the table, rested her palm on the cover, and drank the coffee I got up and poured.
“You ready for today’s briefing?” I asked her.
“I feel like I’ve been ready for years.”
The path to the boathouse was frozen hard and slick. We didn’t talk on the walk down, but she held on tight to my arm.
When we arrived at the second-floor command center, Doc was seated at the head of one of the tables. Gunner was beside him, but I didn’t see Razor. Dagger and Givre were at the far end, behind open laptops, and the rest of the teams were scattered at other tables.
Katarina walked past the empty chair beside mine and set the journal between Dagger and Givre.
“I found this yesterday in the basement at the main camp. The first was in a safe at Minerva’s headquarters. The only thing we’ve ever been able to find in it was the word Romanov. This one looks like more,” she said. “I want to know what we’re looking at.”
Dagger opened it, holding it so Givre could see it too. Katarina came around and sat beside me.
Partway through the first few pages, Dagger stopped, raised his head, and gave Katarina a single nod.
“I strongly believe that the routing Horatio documented here is the architecture Vasiliev is moving money through to this day.”
“And?” Doc asked.
“It isn’t going through a Romanov bank. At least not in the way Moscow understands it.
That organization moves money through sanctioned channels that the Kremlin tracks.
This bank, Hellmer, isn’t on that list. Vasiliev’s been running it outside their line of sight for years.
Even his own people don’t know it exists. ”
“Which means the bombing was paid for with money his bosses don’t know exists,” Givre added.
“Walk us through what this means for Vasiliev,” said Katarina.
“If Hellmer surfaces, he loses it both ways. Every jurisdiction that touches that bank freezes what’s in it within a week, so the independent funding’s gone.
That’s the smaller loss. The larger is that Moscow finds out he’s been running a private operation outside their directive for close to four decades. They burn him.”
“He’d come hard at whoever exposed it,” said Doc.
Gunner rubbed his hands together. “And we’d be waiting for the fucker.”
“What’s our next move?” Katarina asked.
Dagger thought it over for several seconds.
“We can’t seize it. Nothing we’ve got holds up in the jurisdictions Hellmer’s banking through.
What we can do is expose it. Three packets, three inboxes, same hour.
One to the US Treasury, one to the German financial regulator in Frankfurt, and the third to the Liechtenstein regulator in Vaduz.
That one should be hand-delivered through one of Beacon’s assets so it lands on the right desk instead of getting buried at the front counter.
By the time Vasiliev hears about one, the other two will have arrived. ”
“Nothing to Moscow?” I asked.
“Moscow’s the point, not the recipient. Send it to them, and they either bury it, use it to leverage him, or fold Hellmer into sanctioned channels.
Send it to three regulators, and Moscow finds out the same way everyone else does: from the freeze notices hitting the wires.
That’s the version Vasiliev can’t survive. ”
Dagger looked between Doc and Katarina.
“Your call,” said Doc.
“Send them today,” she said, then pointed to the journal. “What Horatio and Mikhail began all those years ago ends now.”
Doc picked up his mobile. Dagger had the journal open to the respective pages, and Givre started drafting.
Under the table, Katarina put her hand on top of mine on my thigh and left it there. I turned mine over and closed my fingers around hers.
Lyra’s mobile buzzed against the wood. She read the screen, stepped toward the window, and said into it, “We’re on our way.” She waited for Doc to finish his call before she spoke again.
“That was my mother. She and Polina are walking down from the main camp. They want to see me, Henry, Katarina, and Blackjack. She said it’s important, but it’s not an emergency.”
Doc didn’t look up from what he was writing. “Go. We’ve got the packets. You won’t be useful in this room for the next two hours anyway.”
When Katarina stood, I stood with her and followed her out. She stopped in the doorway. “Doc, call me if anything changes.”
“Roger that.”
Katarina waited for me at the foot of the boathouse stairs. When I reached for her hand, she put it in mine. Henry and Lyra came out behind us, and the four of us walked to meet Anna and Polina, who stood on the path that led to the shore.
“Babushka, what did you want to talk to us about?”
“Not talk, show. Come, it isn’t far.”
She and Anna turned onto a narrower trail that ran north through the pines.
“This is what you said you wanted to show me? And Blackjack?” Katarina said as we followed.
“Yes,” Polina said over her shoulder. “Come. It is cold, and I am old.”
A few minutes later, the pines opened to a meadow.
Polina and Anna stopped at its edge. “This is what I wanted you to see.”
“What is it?” Katarina asked.
“This is where your grandfather and I wanted to build our own camp. We meant for it to be larger than the ones behind the lodge. Big enough for the great-grandchildren we prayed we’d have.”
“It’s beautiful,” Katarina said, turning in a circle. “And the view of the lake is brilliant.”
Polina smiled. “It is the best view on the property.”
I agreed.
“We planned to call it Orenda.”
“Orenda,” Katarina repeated. “What does it mean?”
“It’s a spiritual life force. A new beginning.”
“It’s perfect, Babushka,” said Katarina.
“Mikhail and I met with an architect and were getting ready to break ground. He died before we could begin.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I have mourned him for many years, my darling granddaughter. Now, it is time to look to the future. Come.” She motioned for both of us to step closer to her.
When we did, she took each of our hands in one of hers, then brought them together.
“The two of you are going to build a camp on this ground.”
“Grandmother—”
Polina squeezed our hands and shook her head. “You will, and here is why. I knew I would marry Mikhail the night I first met him. I spoke no Russian, his English was limited, and yet neither of us doubted we were meant to be together. As he often said, ‘The soul knows.’”
“That’s beautiful,” Katarina whispered.
“It is also true. Your soul knows. You may not realize it yet, but I see it.” Her gaze met mine. “You will take care of my Katarina, Bishop.”
“I will.”
“And you.” Polina released our hands and cupped Katarina’s cheek. “You will let him.”
She nodded.
“You said you met with an architect,” said Henry.
“That is right,” Polina responded.
“Did he ever produce plans?”
Katarina and her grandmother had the same smirk.
“She did, and they are here.”
Henry smiled. “She. Forgive me.”
“I will show them to you tomorrow. They’re in a roll in my bedroom closet.”
“Where did my mother go?” Lyra asked.
“There,” said Katarina, pointing to the shore.
“She’s always had a short attention span,” Polina muttered. “We should go get her before she forgets us.”
“Whose camp is that?” Katarina asked as we made our way up the trail. She was looking up the hillside across from the boathouse.
“Julian’s,” Anna responded.
Henry and Lyra walked Anna and Polina up to the main camp, and Katarina and I returned to the command center. Neither of us spoke on our way in.
Dinner was served at eighteen hundred. “Borscht. For a cold day,” Anna announced when I brought it to the table after she’d asked me to.
It was a smaller group tonight. Katarina sat on my left. Polina was across from me, next to Anna. Lyra and Henry were at the end.
Polina was quiet throughout the meal, which wasn’t unusual. What did seem different was her demeanor. I couldn’t say definitively how, but she seemed more at peace than she had before.
The fire had burned to coals by the time we returned from the main camp that night. I banked what was left, laid two logs across the embers, and watched them catch. Katarina had gone into the bedroom ahead of me. The door was open.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed in the shirt she usually slept in. Her hair was loose, the way I liked it best. I crossed the room and sat beside her.
“Long day,” I said.
“It was.”
“You doing all right?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Fair enough.”
She leaned her head against my shoulder, and I put my arm around her.
“I’ve never seen my grandmother like that,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure I can explain. Less restless, maybe?”
“I thought the same thing. More at peace, if that makes sense.”
“It does.” Her eyes met mine. “Bishop?”
“Yes?”
“There are things I need to say, but I’m not sure how to.”
“Take your time.”
“I’ve loved many people in my life. Every one of them was a member of my family or friends so close they might as well have been. But I’ve never been in love with anyone.”
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from interrupting her.
“But I am now, with you, and I can’t sleep next to you tonight without telling you.”
I’d had every intention of saying it first, but she beat me to it. I was glad she had.
I cupped her cheek. “I love you, Katarina.”
“I love you too, Bishop.”
I leaned forward and kissed her.
“Come to bed, kitten.”
When we made love that night, it felt different. Maybe like Polina, it was because we were both less restless, more at peace.
Our souls knew, and we’d both stopped second-guessing.