“No,” Petya agrees. “They wouldn’t.”
“And they didn’t,” Anderson adds. “From what we can tell, the explosive was placed earlier in the night. Perhaps, it was always meant to be a backup plan, and one they blew too early. Thank God for that, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
I exhale slowly through my nose.
“How many men had that level of access?” I ask.
“At least thirty,” Anderson says. “Including you.”
“That doesn’t narrow the field very much,” I reply in frustration.
“Maybe not, but it’ll help us determine motive,” Petya says. “This wasn’t sloppy or poorly executed. Whoever did this was expecting success.”
I look up at the bedroom door, which Alina must have shut when the phone rang. That was thoughtful of her. Even so, I imagine she’s listening in on the other side, desperate for any information about what’s going on. How can I blame her? She’s been dragged into something she could never fully understand.
“They adapted too fast,” I remind them. “You found blueprints to my hotel room. They were clearly planning an ambush there.When Alina left the ballroom, they pivoted. That means they had eyes inside the building, not just outside. And she’s involved somehow, whether she wants to be or not.”
“They likely didn’t want her involved,” Anderson adds carefully. “They took care to find her that night, as if they were worried about her being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Which seems to be exactly what happened. I hate to say this, Andrei, but perhaps she’s leverage for you.”
“No,” I protest, nearly growling out the word. “As far as I can tell, her only involvement is her father. She doesn’t need to be involved more than she already is. Her safety is second only to my own.”
Neither man responds to that.
“I want a full movement map,” I continue. “Every man who knew my schedule. Every call made within two hours before the blast. I want badge access logs, camera feeds, and vehicle records pulled and cross-referenced.”
“Already in progress,” Anderson says. “I’ll have that information to you as soon as I’m done running it.
“Good,” I reply. “I want the parking structure footage next.”
Petya exhales. “We’re pulling it now. It’s extensive.”
“It will be,” I agree. “Take your time, I don’t anticipate us having to move unless there’s a new threat.”
I end the call without ceremony and set the phone back down on the table. For a moment, I sit still and let my anger simmer in my body. My anger isn’t explosive. It’s cold and calculated, focused on results more than immediate pain. Whoever betrayed me will receive every ounce of my anger when the time comes.
More and more, it’s looking like someone inside my organization decided I was expendable. That decision will cost them everything.
I move to the small kitchen table and open my laptop. The feed from the hotel loads slowly, grainy at first, then sharpening into clarity. Multiple camera angles populate the screen, each one timestamped and tagged. I watch without blinking as the footage rewinds.
There is the service ramp.
There is the staging area.
There is my car.
I watch it again and again. I slow the footage frame by frame, studying body language, posture, timing. Nothing stands out at first glance. That is intentional. Whoever did this would know they were being filmed.
A man steps into frame at 21:42 wearing a maintenance uniform with a badge visible. He pauses near the vehicle, bends as if checking a tire, then moves on.
I rewind the footage, pause, and enhance as much as I can from the crappy feed.
The badge belongs to one of my own subcontractors. He’s been cleared and vetted extensively. I make a note for Petya to interrogate him and move on.
Another angle shows a shadow near the stairwell into the garage. I can’t tell much from the shape, but they wait there for a long time. I tag the timestamp and keep going.
The pattern emerges slowly. This was clearly a coordinated strike. These men had unfettered access to the hotel, and moved easily without being noticed.
My jaw tightens as the pieces align. This was planned long before the engagement party. That means the party was just a convenient cover to get the men in place. The only thing that’s clear is that Alina’s protection was important to these men. That’s why they changed directions.
