Once downstairs, Monk took them over to a conference room off to one side. A long mahogany table ran down its center. The walls were paneled in the same rich wood. A small fireplace smoldered against the back wall. Above the hearth, the papal symbol—a crown and two crossed keys, one gold and one silver—hung on the wall. The tabletop bore the same insignia, depicted in inlays of precious metal.
Contrasting with the regality of the ambassadorial space, a row of flat-panel monitors hung along one wall. They displayed silent newsfeeds from various stations, all broadcasting chaotic footage of burning brick buildings surrounded by high walls.
Tucker could guess the source of that mayhem.
Commander Gray Pierce sat in a leather chair with a leg up on a neighboring seat. Tucker winced at the state of his condition. A bag of ice rested on his ankle. His face was darkly bruised, with Steri-Strips sealing dozens of cuts and wounds. It looked like the man had fallen through a plate-glass window—several times.
On one of the monitors, the fiery wreckage of a downed military helicopter smoldered.
Kowalski noted it, too. “Looks like you all were busy.”
Gray motioned to the table. “Take a seat. We have a tight agenda.”
Tucker signaled for Kane and Marco to retire to spots by the fireplace. The two shepherds loped over and settled there, though both kept their ears tall, wary of all the strangers.
Can’t blame them.
Tucker drew a chair for Elle, then took the next seat. He eyed the trio of religious figures sharing the table. The one with the Roman collar had to be Father Bailey. Tucker had never met the man, but Kowalski had filled him in on the priest’s past ties with Sigma. The other pair—an older, gray-bearded man and a slim young woman—wore robes of the Russian Orthodox Church.
Tucker struggled to understand their presence here.
Gray made introductions and then nodded to Elle. “Thank you, Dr. Stutt, for agreeing to come here.”
“I don’t think I had much choice,” she said. “And I have many questions.”
“Understandably so. Hopefully, we’ll be able to clear up a few details. But right now, the situation remains... fluid.”
“More like jacked up,” Kowalski commented. The big man stood to the side, eyeballing the monitors, looking more disappointed than fazed, clearly frustrated not to have been in the thick of that firefight.
Gray pointed at Kowalski and motioned to the door. “Seichan is upstairs, coordinating with embassy security. The more eyes we have up there, watching our sixes, all the better.”
Kowalski shrugged, likely happy to avoid a long talk, and headed toward the door.
Gray’s gaze turned to Yuri—Bogdan’s head of security—who still stood to the side. “Mister Severin, would you be willing to assist upstairs?”
Yuri’s jaw muscles tightened, hardening his darkly stubbled face. He was clearly reluctant to leave, and not just because he would be abandoning the botanist, a woman who Bogdan had sent him to protect. Tucker suspected Yuri’s boss, ever an opportunist, had assigned his employee to gather whatever intel he could about this whole situation.
Gray kept a firm stare on Yuri, but it was Kowalski who broke the standoff.
The big man grabbed the security chief by the elbow and drew him away. “C’mon. There’s got to be food around here somewhere—and if we’re lucky, maybe a bottle of vodka.”
After the two left, Monk closed the door behind them, ensuring their privacy. Tucker knew most embassies had sophisticated jamming equipment to protect their premises, and undoubtedly the same was true here. Plus, he noted the black boxes with red LED lights affixed to the walls. They looked recently placed, probably by Gray’s team, meant to augment the building’s security with DARPA’s latest tradecraft.
But why take all these precautions? What is really going on?
Gray waited for Monk to take a seat. “First, let’s catch you up on what has happened and what we’ve learned... at some cost.” He shifted the ice bag on his ankle and set about relating all that had transpired at the ruins of an old monastery—includingwhohad been involved.
“So this Valya Mikhailov is behind all of this.” Tucker was unable to keep the bitterness from his words. “Both that ambush at the monastery and the attempted kidnapping.”
Elle stared from him over to Gray. Her face had paled, even her lips,as she took in his injuries, likely getting a better appreciation of the danger she faced. “This woman? What does she want from me?”
“It’s not just her,” Gray said. “We believe she was hired by someone who works for the Russian Orthodox Church.”
Tucker began to understand why two representatives of the Moscow Patriarchate might be in attendance. Still, throughout his account, Gray’s eyes would slightly narrow whenever his gaze swept their way.
He needs these others but doesn’t fully trust them.
Tucker had little patience for such subterfuge. “What’s this all about?”
