Monk stiffened.
Kat continued, “The NSA has developed some sophisticated facial-recognition software. Jason improved on it. We ran these images through the program, inputting photos of the most likely suspect.”
“And you got confirmation,” Gray said.
Kat tapped a button. On the screen, the three-quarter profile shed its artifice to reveal a pale, phantom face beneath. Someone they all knew well.
Painter studied those gathered in his office.
Only one of them remained stoic and unsurprised by this revelation.
5:02P.M.
Seichan shook her head, accepting the inevitable. Sigma had made many enemies over the years, so had she. But there was onlyonefoe whom both she and Sigma shared.
“Valya Mikhailov,” she muttered.
Seichan studied the spectral visage hidden behind the mask on the screen. The features appeared pale, but not as ashen as the woman’s true complexion. Valya suffered from albinism. Her skin was the color of Carrera marble, her hair chalk-white. Yet, defying the assumption that all those afflicted had red eyes, her irises were an ice blue.
The only other blemish—visible even on the ghostly image—was the shadowy remains of a black tattoo. It depicted half of a black sun, casting out kinked rays across her left cheek and brow. It was aKolovrat, a pagan solar symbol from Slavic countries. It had once been tied to witchcraft but later was co-opted by nationalistic parties, including Neo-Nazis.
But Valya was far from anationalistof any country.
She and Seichan had both been assassins with the Guild, sisters in the same deadly profession. After Seichan had helped Sigma destroy the organization, Valya had survived, bitter and vengeful. In the power vacuum left behind, Valya had gathered new forces, slowly rebuilding the organization under her own merciless leadership.
Sigma had crossed paths with them several times, embittering both sides.
Gray shifted in his seat, drawing Seichan’s attention from the screen. “Cargill must have told her where our command center was located. Did anyone question him? Confirm that he told her our location?”
“We tried,” Kat answered. “He lawyered up. We’ll get nothing out of him. He certainly doesn’t want any culpability for the bombing placed on his shoulders.”
“So even with this information,” Painter said, “Valya’s guilt is not certain. Her culpability in the bombing has yet to be firmly established. Still, we all know she certainly hasmotiveto attack us.”
“What aboutopportunity?” Monk said. “Is there any evidence she was in D.C. at the time of the bombing?”
“None,” Kat answered. “If she was here, she covered her tracks well. The problem is that whoever planted those devices knew well enough to stay out of sight.”
“Plus,” Painter added, “there were glitches in eight of the Mall’ssurveillance cameras, which happens periodically, but those cameras were likely taken out. We know Valya has plenty of resources at her disposal, while being unbound by the restrictions and restraints put on us.”
“So, she had themeansto attack us,” Monk huffed out.
Kat nodded. “With the Castle undergoing renovations—with its spaces gutted and emptied—many of its interior cameras were non-operable. It was the perfect window for Valya to attack. That is, if it was her.”
“Screwif.” Seichan burst up, bumping her chair back. “Itwasher.”
Gray tried to draw her back down, but she shook free and stalked the edges of the room.
“We all know it’s her,” she said. “We’ve suspected it from the beginning.”
Painter held up a palm. “True, and I have acted accordingly. Like I said, there are some details that I’ve not shared with anyone, not even you all.”
“Like what?” Gray asked.
Kat answered, “Early on, I had compiled a list of the most likely suspects, with Mikhailov at the top. Since the attack, I’ve been in constant contact with various intelligence services, both here and abroad. While Valya herself is a ghost, a handful of her associates—low-level operatives and contacts—are known well enough for us to trace her organization’s movements, not in any granular detail, but enough to glean a general trend of direction.”
“And?” Seichan pressed. “Spit it out. What are you dancing around?”
“After the attack, we suspected she retreated to Eastern Europe, maybe Russia, perhaps to lay low for a spell. It’s also where we believe she’s set up her headquarters. In her home country.”
