Chapter 33
As it turned out, Eric knew several KGB contacts who were more than willing to help him frame a CIA agent for no other reason than sticking it to an American. That comforted Hadley. Let her know that not everything she’d learned about spies from movies was incorrect.
She also learned that Tenley had a soft spot for victims of domestic violence, because she agreed to break into Franklin’s house and upload a virus to his personal laptop that would give Ren access to all his files free of charge.
When Hadley had asked about her don’t-do-work-for-free policy, she’d just shrugged and told them to consider it charity work on behalf of battered wives everywhere.
And Ren, apparently, liked to under-promise and over-deliver, because while he said poking holes in Franklin’s digital history to make it look like he might’ve been born in Russia and recruited as a sleeper agent as a teen would take two days, it actually only took twelve hours.
More good news came their way when they found out the OIG special investigator Cole mentioned was still with the agency.
His name was Reuben Mosley, and his record was impeccable.
No one would ever question any evidence he was able to dig up.
Once everything was in place, all they had to do was send Reuben an anonymous tip and from there, Cole was sure it’d only take a matter of hours for him to track Franklin down and have him taken into custody.
“I’ll need access to Reuben’s phone,” Ren told them.
“I have a device that when placed next to his phone, will plant a virus. When he goes to work the next day and puts his phone in his desk, the virus will link to his computer. From there, I can plant the evidence that’ll make it look like Franklin has accessed Russia-sensitive data and transferred it to his home computer. ”
“Why not just hack his CIA workstation?” Cole asked. “I know you can.”
“Hacking to look around and hacking to plant and transfer files are two very different tasks. When I say I need access, just trust me,” Ren said dryly.
Weirdly enough, Hadley did trust him. Mostly because she was grateful that someone who could casually hack the CIA was on her side and not the bad guy’s. “So, how do we get that close to his phone? Like, can we…rob him?”
“I like the way you think,” Tenley said with a nod of approval.
“I wish it was that easy, but the first thing he’d do if his phone was out of his possession for more than a second would be to dump it and get a new one,” Cole said.
“Tenley can get it,” Ren said.
Tenley grabbed her own phone. “Easy peasy. I’ll check his socials. See where he hangs out.”
Cole frowned. “What makes you think you can walk right up to him and get close enough to plant the virus in his phone without him catching on to what you’re doing?”
“Only the fact that I’ve done it a bazillion times before,” she said, still scrolling Reuben’s socials.
“Tenley can flirt with anyone.”
Hadley envied the confidence with which Ren said that statement. Flirting was an art and Hadley was pretty sure she had zero artistic ability.
“Oh, bummer,” Tenley murmured, turning the phone in Cole’s direction. “Looks like I’m not his type.”
“How can you tell?” Hadley asked, because she would’ve sworn that Tenley was everyone’s type.
Cole sighed. “His socials are pretty sparse, which is smart, given his job. What I’m seeing here—the charities he supports, his hangouts, almost everyone he’s photographed with and their pages—suggests that he’s gay.”
“Oh.” Hadley frowned. “Well…maybe you can flirt with him.”
“He’d remember me,” Cole said. “He’d instantly be suspicious if I approached him.”
“Maybe Eric, then,” she suggested.
“I think it’d be safer for him to steer clear. If I was able to detect his Russian accent, Reuben probably could, too. Meeting a Russian and then getting an anonymous tip about a Russian sleeper agent would be a red flag. Reuben’s too smart to believe in coincidences.”
Ren’s sigh was long, drawn-out, and positively world weary. “I’ll do it. It’ll cost you, though.”
Cole snorted. “No offense, Ren, but based on what I’m seeing here, you’re not his type, either.”
“Ren is for sure hot enough,” Tenley said.
Hadley would have to agree. Tenley had shown her a picture and Ren could walk into any romance novel in the role of hero (or morally grey villain) with ease.
“But he’s shit at flirting,” she added, giving Ren a pointed look.
He scowled at her. “I do OK.”
She rolled her eyes. “You kidnapped your wife. That doesn’t count as flirting.”
“She married me, didn’t she?”
Cole interrupted whatever Tenley’s reply to Ren was going to be by saying, “I meant Ren has resting serial killer face. This guy seems to favor prettier men. Male model types,” Cole said.
Hadley felt deflated. Where the hell were they going to find a male model who was willing to flirt and commit espionage on their behalf?
Tenley smiled. It was a slow smile. An evil smile. A smile that chilled Hadley to the bone. Then, she said, “I’ve got a guy. He’s perfect.”