25 |

Off-the-books Operations Center
Outside Bethesda, Maryland

 

“The convoy is underway.”

Leroux stood behind Sonya and Tommy, all of them merely observing, no action to be taken on their part. Kane was convinced an escape attempt was imminent, and that was a Russian problem. Given the state of relations between the former Soviet Union and most of the rest of the world, Morrison had decided no warning would be given.

They wanted Minkin freed.

It was the only way they were going to question him, to find out what was going on. The woman, so far, was leading to a near dead end. Natasha Ivashin was a nobody. A math teacher at a local high school, with no government connections. Her mother had recently died, and her father had committed suicide almost thirty years ago.

The timing of his suicide suggested he might have been involved in the assassination plot, yet there was one critical problem.

Natasha Ivashin had no uncles. Her parents had no surviving relatives, and any siblings had been sisters.

There were no uncles to be found in her family tree.

That meant either Minkin had lied to Svetlana, which was a definite possibility, or he had been lied to himself.

Though there was one thing Kane seemed certain of, and Leroux was inclined to agree with. Minkin knew who arranged the meeting, otherwise he would never have stolen the Novichok.

They had to put Minkin and Kane together, which meant they had to track Minkin over the next thirty minutes, no matter what. Losing him would likely mean losing him forever.

“They’ve cleared the jail perimeter,” said Sonya as they all watched the feed from a tiny drone Kane had deployed, its controls now tagged to track the vehicle they had watched Minkin get loaded into.

“It’s just a matter of time.” Leroux patted the back of Sonya’s chair. “If this goes down, make sure that drone’s tracking is switched to the correct vehicle. If it’s not, we may never pick him up again.”

Sonya nodded. “There’s no way we’re losing him.”

Leroux wanted to share her confidence, but they were operating with limited resources. Normally, he’d task at least one satellite to help, but Morrison had nixed the idea. With the Russians being blamed for a state sanctioned nerve agent attack on foreign soil, there was no way they wouldn’t notice a satellite retasked over Moscow at the same time a priority target was breaking out of prison.

They’d blame the United States for it, then claim America was rescuing their asset who had stolen the Novichok and used it to embarrass the Russian government.

This world is a mess.

“Something’s happening.”

Leroux leaned closer and cursed. “Here we go.”