“Just establishing a baseline,” Schneider said, leaning forward, crossing his arms and resting them on the table, his white shirtsleeves rolled up. His black suit jacket was hooked over one side of the chair, threatening to slide off at any second.
“Hate to admit it, but I’m way out of the loop on any of this.”
“Let’s run through a quick summary of what we do know,” Silvia said, referring to a printout in front of her. “We know that there have been indications for several years of a leak in the Moscow CIA operation. We know that the body of the Russian CIA station chief was found overnight in an address in Moscow used as a safehouse. A local pathologist has put the time of death just over a week ago—around the day he visited the safehouse to meet the Russian asset with the code name Elena, and an autopsy is expected to confirm that the cause of death was multiple gunshot wounds. Later in the day in question, Elena left Moscow with you on the Imperial Princess, with marriage, travel, and immigration documents, all apparently obtained from the deceased station chief. She would not have qualified for these under normal circumstances and would certainly not have normally received them in that short a period of time. We know that you first requested these documents from the deputy COS and were turned down, and subsequently you received aburn notice regarding Elena. You claimed to the deputy COS that you were not in a relationship with Elena, and yet this morning you were foundin flagrante delictowith her. You can see how this sequence of events looks bad for you.” When Carter didn’t respond, she prompted him. “Mr. Beck?”
“Was there a question in that?” He leaned back in his chair. Better to be doing the listening, not the talking.
“I’m not going to waste my time and yours playing games,” Silvia said. “This is not an interrogation. We simply need your help to establish the chain of events.”
“Happy to help where I can. But you’re gonna need to be a little more specific about what you wanna know.”
“How would you describe your relationship with Elena?”
“She is—was—an asset I recruited and ran. I was her handler.”
“And when did it become more than that?”
Carter gave a grim, wry smile. “Approximately nine p.m. last night.”
“You’ll forgive me if I find that difficult to believe.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Can you prove it?”
“Can I prove that something didn’t happen until last night?”
Silvia waited for Carter to expand, but he wasn’t the type to worry about filling in awkward silences. He was aware he looked like an asshole who’d taken advantage, but that had nothing to do with the reason they were sitting there.
“Considering a man has been murdered, you don’t seem very cooperative.”
“Let me be straight up, then. Anything that did or did not happen between Ni—Elenaand me has nothing to do with any of this. You want to know if I was channeling intel to the Russians? I was not. If I killed the station chief or was involved in any other way in his death? I did not, and was not. Didn’t know he wasdead until you told me this morning. If I conspired with Elena to get her an exfil to the U.S.? I did not, apart from presenting her request to Randolph Jeffson, which, as you are aware, was turned down. If I was involved with her intimately prior to last night? I was not. Anything else?”
“And what about her?” Silvia said, rolling a pen around in her fingers.
“What about her what?”
“What do you know about her involvement in these matters?”
“I have no knowledge that she was involved in channeling information to the Russians, or the death of the station chief. If I had even the wildest suspicion of any of that, I would tell you. I have no idea how she managed to get the documents and permissions she did.”
“And you claim to have not seen her on the day in question until she arrived at the train station at 7:13 p.m.?” Silvia said, checking the time on the printout.
“That’s correct.”
“Since then, you’ve been traveling with her for more than a week. She didn’t tell you any of this?”
“No.”
“You asked her?”
“About how she got the documents? Of course.”
“And she said?”
Carter went to speak and then closed his mouth, feeling a twinge of something unpleasant in his stomach, which wasn’t just down to the vodka they’d consumed the previous night.
“She said…?” Silvia prompted. The FBI guy—Schneider—raised his eyebrows.
