CHAPTER NINE
River watched as his mother, grandmother, and a dozen other women helped Priscilla fill her plate as if she were dying of hunger and then sat with her at a huge table. They were laughing and keeping her occupied. He frowned at her, then looked around the room at the others.
“Your face is going to stay like that if you’re not careful,” said Jak.
“Sorry, brother. Priscilla said something to me as we were walking over here that really bothers me.”
“We heard,” nodded Patrick. “You forget we have your comms on while you’re here. We’re still trying to find out who she was and now, how she and Greene were connected.”
“He said you punched him in the nose once,” said River staring at his dad.
“Yep. Bastard deserved it too. He couldn’t tell the difference between me and Christopher and then dad walked into the room. He said we were clone rejects or something. It just pissed me off.”
“I imagine it did. Was he a deputy director then?” asked River.
“Nope. He was just an agent and not a very good one from what I remember, which is another reason to try and figure this out. Unless he gained a lot of skill, emotional intelligence, and just good old ingenuity, there’s no way he could have made it to deputy director.”
“Well, he did. He even asked me if I wanted to join the bureau when I was done,” frowned River. “Why wouldn’t the woman, Celine or whatever the fuck her name is, why wouldn’t she have passed along the information about Vasily and his organization? Were they working together?”
“It seems the obvious answer but rarely is the obvious the right answer,” said Jak.
Ham, Gator, Tobias and Abe walked toward the group. They wondered where Eazee was and then got their answer.
“Eazee stopped at comms to drop off a few things,” said Ham.
“A few things?” frowned Jak.
“Seven cell phones, three of which were burners, more than sixty thumb drives, seven old fashioned CDs which may or may not match the seven phones, six passports, more than three-hundred thousand in cash in various currencies, and this,” he said sliding a folder across the table. On the tab, in big bold letters it read –Voodoo Guardians.
“Fuck,” muttered Jak.
“They’re working through everything we have right now. We pulled prints from all over that damn house. Men, women, even a couple of kids which is alarming. The bureau claims there were no prints in the house except hers, so either they fucking suck or the team Greene hired was bought and paid for.”
“We don’t suck,” said Priscilla calmly standing behind Ham.
“I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean all of you,” he said calmly.
“I know. I know what you meant,” she said. “I just know that when I go into a scene like that it takes days to get everything you need. He only took a few hours from what we can gather. We both know that means that Todd Greene and this woman…”
“Natalia Ingk,” said AJ walking toward them.
“Natalia Ingk?” repeated Priscilla. “I don’t know that name.”
“No one would,” said AJ. “She’s been an unnamed, wanted suspect for more than fifteen years.”
“Fifteen years? But she was my age, maybe thirty-three or thirty-four at most. How could that be?”
“The trail of her work leads us to believe she started as an agent for the Iranian government, then defected to Russia. After working there a while, she defected again to Argentina and then, somehow, ended up here in the U.S. What we don’t know is where she’s originally from. The question of course is whether or not Todd Greene knew who she was and what she was doing.”
“What was she doing?” asked River.
“The usual spy shit. Selling secrets, moving money, artwork, anything they needed. She was fluent in at least six languages, accents undetected, and she was a master of disguise. This is a real-life Mata Hari.”
“I can’t believe this. She fooled me. I mean, she always seemed overly confident and she was the best secret keeper on the planet, obviously,” said Priscilla rolling her eyes. The others snickered, knowing she was using humor to cover her pain.
Her phone rang and she pulled it from her pocket, holding it up. GREENE.
“Answer it, on speaker,” said Jak.
