Chapter 13
“Sergeant McDowell, Mrs. Holland. Glad you could join us.”
Everly wiped sweaty palms against her pants and pasted a polite smile onto her face.
She’d somehow missed the memo that this was a video conference until Grant had set up his laptop on the coffee table.
They sat a respectable distance apart on the couch, not at all like the way they’d woken up this morning, nestled against each other in front of the dying fire.
She risked a quick glance at him from the corner of her eye, and her nerves settled just a fraction.
Grant had bared his soul to her last night, his unguarded words somehow far more intimate than any physical act.
For years, his heart had been as heavy as hers, she realized. But for a very different reason.
Now his face was impassive, and she knew he’d gone into that part of himself that he only accessed as an operator. A place that allowed him to function on pure logic and strategy, without emotion getting in the way.
Grant nodded. “Colonel Lockhart. Good morning, sir.”
STAG’s leader stood at the head of the conference room like he’d been carved from stone, the black eagle on his uniform stark against the green camo.
His hair was cropped close, the dark strands peppered with gray at the temples, and his eyes were razor-sharp.
The kind that didn’t miss a thing. Nothing in his composed, ironclad bearing hinted at the compassionate man who had taken one look at Everly months ago and rushed her to the doctor.
The other operators sat around a long table. Everly recognized most of them, old friends she’d spent countless hours with, but who now seemed like strangers from another lifetime. Like her, they were focused on Lockhart, tension humming on both sides of the screen.
“Gentlemen, we find ourselves in an unprecedented situation this morning. STAG has suffered a serious data breach, and unfortunately, it originated from within.” Lockhart turned to the projector screen behind him. Captain Taylor’s fingers flew across his laptop, and then the DropKom logo appeared.
“One of our own entangled himself with a foreign entity masquerading as a financial firm called Dropov Kommercheskiy, styling themselves in the US as DropKom. And when he defaulted on his debts, he provided classified material in lieu of cash.”
Another clack of the keyboard, and the schematics from last night flashed on the screen. The colonel pivoted towards the operators and fixed them with a steely glare that even had Everly’s spine stiffening.
“Sergeant Holland sold top secret intel, and in doing so, endangered every operator in this room. Let this be a reminder: anyone who doesn’t respect operational security has no business wearing this uniform. And damn sure no place in STAG.”
“Yes, sir!” the operators responded in unison.
“Now,” he continued, his expression unreadable. “Mrs. Holland has been caught in the crossfire of this ill-fated little scheme–it appears her husband used her identity to shield himself. Sergeant Lawson, bring us up to speed.”
Evan tapped the keys of his own laptop, and lines of computer jargon appeared on the screen.
“I’ve been combing through Holland’s files all night.
About halfway done, and so far I’ve found multiple transactions that occurred from locations that Mrs. Holland couldn’t have accessed.
The IP addresses–” he pointed to the projector screen– “are proof of that. It’s not enough to shut the investigation down yet, but it’s moving us in the right direction. ”
“What’s our role in this, sir?” a familiar voice asked. Reid Walker, the team’s medic.
“Glad you asked. Someone has been leaving Mrs. Holland threatening messages, attempting to collect the remaining intel,” Lockhart said. “We believe the source is this man, Andrei Andropov.”
Noah tapped the keyboard, and a grainy photo filled the screen: a thin, angular man with a sallow complexion and cold eyes.
“Does he look familiar to you?” Grant whispered.
Everly shook her head. Her mouth had gone dry.
“He’s been spotted on surveillance in the Atlanta area,” Taylor added. “Crosswalk cameras, building security footage. The data we obtained from his recorded call to Mrs. Holland indicated he was in or near Decatur.” Images from traffic cams and overhead feeds flickered past, one after another.
A shiver ran through her. This man had been watching her, without a doubt.
“Our objective,” Lockhart continued, “is to make contact. Convince Andropov that Mrs. Holland is ready to hand over the classified material. Once the exchange is complete, we take him into custody.”
“What about the rest of DropKom?” someone asked from off-screen.
Noah brought up another photo. A man in a suit, older, with a pinched face and receding hairline.
“Mikhail Andropov,” Lockhart said. “Andrei’s half-brother, and the other half of Dropov Kommercheskiy.
He’s been on the outskirts of the Russian crime world for years—wants a seat at the grown-ups’ table, but hasn’t earned it.
” Another slide appeared, this one showing a drab concrete building that could’ve been any corporate office.
“Last known location, Moscow. No evidence that he’s currently stateside.
For now, we’re operating under the assumption that Andrei is acting alone. ”
“Who will be making contact?” Grant asked.
Lockhart stood with his hands on his hips. “That would be Mrs. Holland.”
Everly sensed Grant tense beside her.
“It’s not ideal,” Colonel Lockhart continued. “But it’s the most foolproof way to make sure that Andrei Andropov shows up for the exchange.”
Everly kept her expression neutral, though her chest tightened at the thought of having to meet with Andropov face- to-face. But if it meant putting him behind bars, and finally ending this, then she would do it.
“Sergeant McDowell, your leave is canceled. You and Mrs. Holland are to report to the safe house in Atlanta by 1700 hours today. You are not to let her out of your sight until the operation begins. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I want you and Mrs. Holland to stay on the call for a moment. Everyone else is dismissed. Back to work.”
“Sir, yes sir!” came the reply, as chairs scooted back, papers shuffled, and Grant’s teammates filed out of the room.
Lockhart sat down in front of the laptop and switched cameras, his face now filling the screen.
“How are you holding up, Mrs. Holland?” he asked.
“Please, call me Everly,” she told him, the formality grating to her ears. “And I’m doing well, thank you. Sergeant McDowell has been taking excellent care of me.”
The colonel’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, but he moved on.
“Glad to hear that. STAG looks out for each other.” He cleared his throat. “Sergeant, when you reach the safe house you’re to check in with Captain Taylor, understood?”
Grant nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Excellent. At that time, he will provide you with the phone number and script Everly will need to use to make contact with Andropov. Standard STAG sting. You know the drill.”
“Nothing we do is standard, sir,” Grant replied with a hint of a smile.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Lockhart said, then sighed. “Everly, I’m also obligated to inform you that because Sergeant Holland used your name in his dealings with DropKom, the CIA will conduct a formal investigation to rule out any wrongdoing on your part.”
“Everly had nothing to do with this, sir,” Grant protested. “She’s innocent.”
Colonel Lockhart held up his hand. “Sergeant, STAG knows that, but the United States government needs a bit more convincing. The CIA is already breathing down my neck about an arrest, but I’ve managed to hold them off for a day.
” He looked directly at her through the computer screen.
“I apologize, Mrs. Holl—Everly, but my hands are tied on this one.”
Everly lifted her chin. “I understand, and I have nothing to hide. The CIA can ask me whatever questions they need.”
He gave a single nod. “STAG can help arrange legal representation, if you’d like.”
“I’d appreciate that very much, Colonel.”
He jotted something down on a notepad. “After the sting is complete, you’ll be taken into custody for questioning. I don’t expect the process to take more than a day or two.”
She nodded, a ball of unease growing in the pit of her stomach. Grant shifted a bit closer to her, his expression still emotionless, but concern shining in his eyes.
“Sergeant McDowell,” he continued. “At the conclusion of the operation, you are to immediately report back to headquarters in Savannah. You are not to make contact of any kind with Everly Holland until you are notified that the investigation is complete. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
The colonel’s eyes darted between the two of them, and even though they hadn’t touched, had barely looked at each other this entire time, something imperceptible must have given them away.
“I suggest,” he said, his voice softer than before, “you say your goodbyes tomorrow before the operation begins. You won’t have another chance. ”
◆◆◆
Andrei hung up the phone, hardly able to believe his good luck. “It seems our client has had a change of heart,” he told his cousin. “She wants to provide me with the remaining files after all.”
Dimitri frowned. “How do you know she’s going to give you the correct files? You already fucked up once.”
Andropov smiled. “I’ll take my laptop and check them right in front of her, idiot.
” He twirled a pen between his fingers, his mind whirling.
“It seems the United States is suddenly very interested in what Everly Holland has been up to in her free time. She wants to cut her losses, get us off her back, and start life over elsewhere. What better way to start than by tying up loose ends.”
“And what better way to prove to Mikhail that it’s time to bring Dropov Kommercheskiy into the twenty-first century,” Dimitri replied.