Armor for the conversation I need to have with Dmitri.
Tony is already awake by the time I emerge from my bedroom at seven. He’s sitting on the couch with coffee, looking like he hasn’t slept, either.
“Sasha—”
“I’m going to see Dmitri.” I cut him off. “Don’t wait up.”
I’m out the door before he can respond.
The drive to Dmitri’s office through Moscow traffic takes thirty minutes. I use the time to rehearse what to say and how to present the information I found without sounding like a jealous girlfriend who can’t handle being lied to.
Because that’s not what this is. This is about security and protecting my family from someone who might be using me to get to them.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
Boris is waiting in Dmitri’s outer office when I arrive. He takes one look at my face and doesn’t ask questions. Just opens the door and lets me through.
Dmitri is on the phone when I enter, but he ends the call the moment he sees me.
“You look terrible,” he observes.
“Thanks. I had a productive night.” I drop into the chair across from his desk and pull out my phone. “We need to talk about Tony.”
“I was wondering when you’d come to me about this.”
The lack of surprise in his voice makes me pause. “You already know.”
“I’ve been running an investigation since we brought him on board,” Dmitri explains. “His cover story has more holes than Swiss cheese. The question is what he’s doing here and who he’s working for.”
“So why haven’t you done anything about it?”
“I wanted to see how deep it went. Who he contacted. What information he tried to gather. I also wanted to see if he’d come clean on his own, or if you’d figure it out first.”
I click my tongue. “You used me as bait.”
“I gave you an assignment. You chose how to handle it.”
“By sleeping with him?”
“By getting close to him, yes. That was always the plan, Sasha. Keep him nearby. Build trust. See what he reveals when he thinks no one’s watching.” Dmitri opens a folder on his desk. “What did you find?”
I show him the sealed military records, the employment gap, and the photograph from Syria. He carefully examines each piece of evidence, his face giving nothing away.
“This confirms what Boris has been telling me,” he says. “Tony Haugh is not who he claims to be. The question now is whether he’s dangerous.”
“He’s been living in our safehouse for weeks. He has had access to our operations, our security intel, and—” I stop myself before saying “me.” “He could have done anything by now if he wanted to.”
“Which is why I haven’t moved against him yet. Men who want to hurt us don’t usually spend weeks building relationships and taking their mark on gallery visits.” Dmitri closes the folder. “But we can’t let this continue. We need answers.”
I swallow hard past the lump in my throat before I ask, “What will you do?”
“Bring him in for questioning. Properly this time.” He picks up his phone. “Boris can?—”
“I want to be there.”
Dmitri pauses. “Sasha?—”
“I need to understand who he is. What he wants. Why he—” I stop myself again. “I need to be there, Dmitri. Please.”
