Chapter 7 #5
“A pawn who’s planned and executed too many attempts on our country,” Logan said. “A pawn who’s cost lives, terrorized our people. For Pete’s sake, Martin, you planned the assassination of our president—”
“A president who ordered the death of my family!” He hadn’t meant to explode, but… “At least, that’s what I was led to believe.”
Ham took a step toward him.
Logan held up his hand. “That’s not true.”
“Isaac White served on the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence. He was the one who said we needed to shut down the human intelligence networks—HUMINT in Russia.”
“He didn’t order your family’s death,” Logan said softly. “That was the Russians. And Crowley, in league with them.”
Yeah, he knew about Crowley, how he’d lied to him, but, “I believed White was a murderer for a very long time.”
Ham folded his arms. “I think the important part here is that we need to know what the Bratva’s next move is.”
“Their next move is to eliminate the president, his family, and…mine.” Alan forced the words past his constricting chest. He couldn’t breathe right. The room was too small. Too many people. Too much truth. “And now you want me to be the same pawn, different players.”
“It’s not the same,” Ham said.
“Isn’t it?” Alan looked at him. “I do what you want or I don’t see my family. That’s the deal.”
Ham’s expression didn’t change. “York is moving them somewhere safe, to keep them alive.”
“Yeah, same as what I was doing. For sixteen years. Look how that turned out.”
The AC unit rattled. Someone’s radio crackled in the hallway.
Then footsteps on the stairs.
And just like that, York appeared in the doorway. He took in the scene—the broken door, the assembled team, Alan standing in the middle like he was facing a firing squad.
“What’s going on?”
“Your asset tried to escape,” Logan said and stepped back.
York’s jaw tightened. “Did he.”
“Got the hinge pins out before we caught him.” Dakota held up the bent staple. “Creative.”
York stepped into the room. He looked at the door, at Alan, back at the door. “I told you we’d handle it.”
“You’ve been gone four hours.”
“I’ve been securing a safe location for your wife and daughter. Setting up protection. Coordinating with federal marshals. Making sure that when you see them, the Petrovs can’t find them.” York’s voice stayed level, but it held an edge. “Did you think I was having coffee?”
Alan said nothing.
York moved closer. “We have a deal. Help me bring down the Bratva, bring Tomas into custody—”
“And then what?”
“Then you get to see your family.”
“After.” Alan’s voice went hard. “After it’s done. After you don’t need me anymore.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
The word dropped into silence.
York’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“No deal.” Alan took a breath. “The problem is, I don’t know everything. Tomas compartmentalizes. Keeps operational details locked until the last minute. I know the goal. Not the execution.”
He saw York’s expression shift. Calculation replacing irritation.
“You need someone inside. Someone who can get real-time intelligence. Someone Tomas will still contact because he doesn’t know for sure that I’ve turned.”
“You’re suggesting we send you back in.”
“I’m suggesting you don’t have a choice.”
Ham shifted. Glanced at York, gave him a nod.
“Or,” Logan said, “Martin goes back in and Smirnov puts a bullet in his head the second he makes contact.”
“Maybe,” Alan said. “Or if he knows you picked me up, maybe I convince him I escaped from you. That I killed the guards and ran. That I’m still his asset.”
“He won’t believe it.”
“He might. If I give him something valuable.”
York’s expression went cold. “Like what?”
“Like the location of this hotel. The fact that you’re using it as a base. The team composition. Enough truth that the lie looks real.”
“You’d burn our position.”
“You’re moving anyway, aren’t you?” Alan watched York’s face. “You were never staying here. This was always temporary.”
York said nothing. Which was confirmation enough.
“So I give Tomas this location,” Alan continued. “Tell him I barely escaped. Feed him a story about how you tried to turn me but I killed two guards and made it out. He sends a team to verify. They find this hotel abandoned. Evidence of our presence, but you’re gone. It confirms my story.”
“And puts you back in play,” Tate said slowly. “With access to updated operational details.”
“Exactly.”
Fraser spoke up. “What’s to stop you from actually going back to Smirnov? Giving him actual, valuable intel? You’re betting your family on York’s word, but York’s betting a lot more people’s lives on yours.”
Alan looked at him. Fraser Marshall. Former SEAL. The one who’d protected Princess Imani of Lauchtenland.