“We need something definitive,” I state.
“Set a trap,” Dmitri suggests. “We’ll start with Ivan and create a new account. Something completely fabricated that doesn’t exist in anyone else’s records except Ivan’s access.”
I pull out a notepad. “Make it look legitimate. I’ll mention it to Adrian, and we give Ivan a reason to pull those files for ‘verification.’“
Boris nods slowly. “If the Luxembourg information appears in Adrian’s follow-up, we know Ivan’s feeding him.”
“Exactly.”
“How long will this take?” Dmitri asks.
“A week. Maybe less if Adrian’s eager.” I close the folders. “I’ll call him tonight, mention the Luxembourg expansion casually. We plant the files tomorrow, make sure Ivan has access. Then we wait.”
“I don’t like waiting,” Boris grumbles.
“Neither do I. But we can’t afford to be wrong.”
Dmitri dismisses Boris with a nod. After he leaves, Dmitri turns to me. “How was the hotel?”
Heat scorches my face as I clear my throat. “Fine.”
“Just fine?”
I don’t know how to answer that. Last night was more than fine. Last night was the first time in years I felt like maybe I could be someone worth saving.
“It went well. Adrian got an earful.”
“Good.” Dmitri stands. “Because my sister deserves better than someone who’s just going through the motions.”
“I’m not?—”
“I know. I can see it.” He heads for the door. “Just don’t fuck this up, Tony. You won’t get another chance.”
After he leaves, I pull out my laptop and start building the false documentation we’ll need for the trap. Creating an operation from scratch requires details—account numbers that look real but lead nowhere, contact names that sound legitimate, and transfer schedules that match our usual patterns.
The work is tedious but necessary. Every detail has to be convincing enough to fool Adrian while being traceable enough to identify our leak.
I’m creating the third fictitious wire transfer when the conference room door opens. I expect Boris or Dmitri, but it’s Sasha.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey.”
She closes the door and sits in the chair Dmitri vacated. “How’d the briefing go?”
“We think it’s Ivan. Setting a trap to confirm.”
“That’s good.” She picks up one of the folders, glancing through it without really reading. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Last night, when I asked about your uncle—was that okay? Or was I pushing too hard?”
The question surprises me. “It was more than okay. Nobody’s asked me stuff like that in years.”
“Why not?”
“Because most people don’t care. They care about what I can do for them. What skills I have. What operations I’ve run. You cared about where I learned patience. About the man who raised me. That’s different.”
