CHAPTER 37

The general was sitting out on the safe house’s balcony when Kovalic, Rance, and Yevgeniy returned. He beckoned to Kovalic with one gnarled hand as the others dispersed to their own corners: Rance to the kitchen bar to consult her tablet, and Yevgeniy to the couch where he sat down heavily muttering something about being too old for fieldwork.

The noontime Novan sun beat down on the balcony, but it had been mitigated by an automated awning that had deployed, leaving them with only a cool breeze. Below, Kovalic could hear the whir of traffic, interrupted by the occasional chirping of birds. Drones zipped by overhead, delivering packages or capturing footage for news reports. All in all, a normal day on Nova for everybody who hadn’t been accused of treason. Strange that everything else out there could just proceed as usual while Kovalic’s world had ground to a stop like an old clock needing to be wound.

“How did it go?” asked the general.

“Well enough,” said Kovalic. “Meet’s set for two o’clock. At that point…well, we won’t be in suspense anymore.”

Stroking his beard, the general nodded in thought. “I would hope so.” After a moment, he let out a sigh. “Simon, I don’t believe I had the presence of mind to say it before, but…” his blue eyes, paler than the sky, fixed on Kovalic, “…I want to apologize. For everything that led to this.” One hand waved to encompass their surroundings. “I offer no excuse other than to say that hubris got the best of me. I only wish it hadn’t dragged you all down with it. However this plays out, I wanted to be sure that I had a chance to express that before… the next part.”

Kovalic stiffened. He wasn’t ready to have this conversation – not now, while they were still in the middle of everything. There were too many things to say, too many thoughts for him to process and organize, too many questions bubbling to the surface: LOOKING GLASS, the codename Page had first mentioned nine months ago on Bayern, still lingered in his brain. What was it? Why was the general attached to a military R&D project? To what end?

He swallowed the question down, but the general’s overture wasn’t the type of sentiment that one could leave hanging. “Thank you, sir,” was the best he could manage.

The general nodded to himself, as though considering the matter settled, and Kovalic shoved everything he was feeling down into a strongbox and locked it shut. Healthy? Probably not. But it was something that operators got good at. Ignore and override. There’d be time down the road to reconcile all debts.

Right now, though, there were bigger matters to attend to.

“Regardless of whether or not Kester is the mole,” said Kovalic, “I don’t expect him to play fair with this meet. I’ll need Rance on the perimeter looking for Bureau agents and snipers. Best case scenario, he’ll try to take us in. Worst case, he’ll just be looking to take us out – especially if it’s covering his own ass.”

The general raised an eyebrow. “And even with all of that, you still want to go ahead with it?”

“We need to see that report if we’re going to have any chance of figuring out where it came from – and if we’re going to clear our own names. It’s the only evidence we can trace back to the mole. If there’s any chance Kester’s on the level, we need to take it.”

“Still, it’s risky,” said the general.

“Yevgeniy’s scouted a location from which he can monitor the meet,” said Kovalic. “Full video and audio. It should provide some insurance – assuming we can trust him.” Kovalic hadn’t missed that Yevgeniy’s perch also offered easy means to slip away should things go south.

The general let out a rueful chuckle. “If we can’t, then we’re the proverbial lobsters in the pot. We’re already dead, we just don’t know it yet.” He cast a wistful eye through the window, back into the apartment. “I do probably owe him an apology before this is all over. I have not always treated him as one should treat their… friends.” The last word didn’t come easily, Kovalic could tell; to be fair, there weren’t very many people left in the old man’s life who fit the definition.

All the more reason not to squander the ones he had left.

Clearing his throat, the general focused back on Kovalic and gave a tight smile, banishing that topic for another place and time. “You have escape routes mapped out?”

“Four prepped,” said Kovalic. “I chose Udo Park for a reason: it’s public, and too wide open to lock down effectively. And at the height of the day we’ll have excellent visibility.”

“That cuts both ways,” said the general. “It also leaves you exposed with nowhere to hide.”

Kovalic gave a wan smile. “Let’s hope that by the time this is all over, none of us need to hide.”

With a thoughtful hm, the general’s gaze drifted across the glass patio doors behind them, taking in the interior of the safe house. “I’ve been wondering,” he said, after a moment, “if we’ve been coming at this from the wrong direction.”

“How so?”

“We’ve been so focused on Kester that I worry we haven’t done our due diligence on alternative possibilities.”

“Oh?” said Kovalic. He followed the general’s eyes through the windows to where Rance was still studying her tablet. “What are you getting at?”

“I just keep turning over in my head who would have access to operational details of SPT missions. Kester, certainly, but also the Commonwealth Executive, a few high ranking civil servants, and, in my office, Rance. If it were me, looking to place a mole in the Commonwealth – something that I definitely spent time considering in the past – then, yes, someone as high ranking as Kester would be a coup. But it’s also very risky. There are options that would be… less exposed but would still get access to much of the same material.”

Kovalic cocked his head to one side.

“I’ve been thinking, more broadly speaking about Isabella’s strategy. She has a number of tools in her drawer,” the general continued, his gaze unwavering, “but I think we can both agree that her weapons of choice are subtlety and misdirection. The fine art of making us look one way when we should be looking somewhere else entirely. It’s worked to her advantage so far, but perhaps we can turn her own tactics back upon her.” His eyes finally slid back to Kovalic, the skin around them crinkling into fine lines. “All of this is to say, I have a plan, and it starts with flushing out Isabella’s mole. But it is… somewhat involved, and I’ll need your help to put it into play. The timing is most critical.”

Not for the first time, Kovalic found himself wondering what exactly went on behind those icy eyes. The general’s mind worked unlike any other he’d encountered in his life; from the outside, it seemed like a terrifying funhouse of paranoia and obtuse angles in which Kovalic had no desire to spend more time than necessary.

But sometimes – especially in the life that they lived – it was exactly the kind of tool one needed to get the job done. He took a deep breath. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

The smile that crossed the general’s face had an ironic sadness to it. “I’m afraid I must ask you to do something very difficult, given everything we’ve been through in the last few days.

“I’m going to need you to trust me.”

Kovalic slid the patio door closed behind him, cutting off the noise from the city as sharply as though he’d switched it off. He was so lost in thought that he missed the first inquiry from Rance.

“Sorry, what?”

The yeoman smiled at him, tilting her chestnut head to one side. “Just asking if everything’s all right.”

“I think so,” said Kovalic slowly. “Just working through some things.” He had to admit, the general’s idea had merits, and the more he turned it over in his mind, the more things seemed to click into place. But trust… trust was still in short supply.

“I guess I’d better go check on him,” said Rance, getting to her feet. “I’m not sure he had any breakfast, and honestly, he’ll forget to eat unless there’s a giant holoscreen floating in front of his face reminding him.”

“Actually, he asked to speak to Yevgeniy.” Kovalic nodded to the former Illyrican spy, who appeared to have gone from sitting on the couch to napping on the couch.

Or perhaps not. The man’s eye cracked open and he let out a sigh. “What does the old coot want to harangue me about now?” He levered himself up, an exercise accompanied by a score of grunts and popping joints, and shuffled over to the balcony door.

Rance’s brow furrowed in thought as she watched him go, but she shrugged. “I guess breakfast can wait.” She cocked her head as Kovalic made for the apartment’s door. “Where are you headed?”

“I just need to step out for a moment. A personal matter to take care of.”

“Got it,” said Rance. She glanced down at her sleeve. “I’m going to head out shortly. The meet’s in two hours and I’d like to start my recon sweep early, just to set a baseline.”

Kovalic nodded. “Agreed. I’ll see you there.”

“Hopefully not,” said Rance. “Because if you can see me, so can Kester’s people.”

With a snort, Kovalic conceded the point. “Fair enough.” He opened the door to the apartment and then paused, looking back at Rance. “Keep your head on a swivel, yeoman.”

She tipped him an informal salute. “Best of luck, major.”

“Yeah, I think we’d like luck on our side today.” And with that, he shut the door behind him and took the stairs down and exited into the same alley that he’d used last night.

With the door propped open behind him so it wouldn’t lock, Kovalic leaned against a wall and pressed his hands against his face. He was about to violate several operational protocols on the basis of a hunch. Then again, not the first time he’d prioritized a feeling over cold, hard facts.

Might be the last, though.

Letting out a breath, he raised his sleeve and initiated the same connection as the previous evening, waiting as his call was routed through the catalog of proxies and encrypted connections.

After a moment, the familiar deep voice answered. “Laurent.”

“Afternoon, inspector.”

There was the briefest of pauses and Kovalic imagined him once again starting the trace. By all rights, he should have made the call somewhere else – using the same location twice only made the job easier for the Bureau’s boffins. But at least this conversation should be short.

“Twice in as many days,” said Laurent easily, as though there had been no hesitation whatsoever. “To what do I own the pleasure, Kovalic?”

“I’m calling to offer you a deal.”

“Really? Maybe I should hit the casino after work, because I guess it’s my lucky day. What are you offering?”

“I’m offering you the collar of a lifetime. There’s an Illyrican mole embedded in the Commonwealth’s intelligence community.”

Another pause, but this time Kovalic could hear the gears grinding in the inspector’s head.

“Is there?” Laurent said finally. His voice was carefully neutral. “And you have proof of this?”

“No.”

“Of course not.” He sighed. “Kovalic, I don’t deal in conspiracy theories.”

“I’ve got something better. I’ve got the mole.”

Laurent’s voice sharpened. “You’ve what?”

“Call Kester’s office and let him know that I can deliver the mole.” He glanced at his sleeve did some quick math. The timing was going to be tight, but he could make it work. “Udo Park, three o’clock. The Rings.”

“Wait, I –”

But Kovalic didn’t let him finish, terminating the connection and then peeling off the sleeve and ripping the smart fabric in half. He tossed it in the building’s trash receptacle and let out another breath, staring up at a white cloud drifting lazily across the narrow gap between all the buildings rising above him.

He couldn’t deny a sense of relief washing over him, alien as it might seem. He was done waiting around: they were going dynamic now. The time for strategy was over; now it was purely about tactics – and tactics was where he lived. This he knew how to handle.

And, no matter what, in a few hours all of this would be over.