The Albanians could’ve killed him for any number of reasons, right? Made an accounting mistake? she rationalized.
“A research scientist we’d turned, who’d been stealing proprietary secrets and selling them to the Chinese, is missing as well,” Halle began. “We’ve been trying to contact him since Friday morning.”
Maybe the scientist left? Abandoned his agreement with the FBI. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened.
It was Ana’s turn to share what Gray already knew but wanted to hear again like they were being quizzed before the big boss showed up.
“Katya, a ballerina for a small Russian theater company in New York City, is missing. The Volkov Russian crime family hired her to cozy up with American government workers, including congressmen, to obtain intelligence.” She was the only one who was supposed to go missing. The only freaking one, damn it. But not like this. “Same story with her. She didn’t show up for her last performance. No answer. No one at home.”
“We’ve reached out to every source connected to all the active cases within our unit to ensure no one else is missing. We can’t alert them to a potential problem, or that might have them running scared,” Halle noted.
“All are accounted for except one, and as you know, Porter is personally following up on him in Atlanta,” Dean pointed out.
“The Iranian spy,” Gray said with a nod. “We can’t lose him. Too much at stake.” His cheeks filled with air for a moment before releasing it like a slow-leaking balloon.
“We’re working nonstop with the field offices in Massachusetts, New York, and California in regard to the missing sources,” Dean added. “And Porter will ensure the team in Atlanta is on high alert.”
“I want to reiterate that neither Director Mendez nor the Deputy AD want the individual field offices made aware that sources, other than the one being investigated in their city, are missing,” Gray noted what they all already knew. “Same goes for HQ. No one outside this unit is to know we have three missing sources. Am I clear?”
How in the hell was this happening? Everything had been planned so perfectly. It should’ve gone down flawlessly. Katya should’ve—
Ana ditched her thoughts when the door opened to reveal what she’d feared after Kyle left her townhouse on Saturday—that her ex-husband would be working alongside her.
She straightened in her chair, her heartbeat going for a ride in her chest. Too hard. Too fast.
“Ladies. Gentlemen,” Winters addressed them once he and Kyle were in the room, and the door clicked shut.
Kyle tucked his hands into the pockets of his black slacks, his eyes riveted to Ana as he stood alongside one of the most powerful men at Headquarters. No red or blue tie for Kyle. Purple. Bold. A statement that he was present and ready to go to work.
Kyle had clearly heard more about Porter traveling to Atlanta than the mere gossip he’d claimed during his surprise visit over the weekend. He was there to investigate the circumstances surrounding the missing sources.
Halle peered straight at Ana now, brows pulled tight. She must have noticed the distressed look on her face.
Ana had dropped her guard. She’d let the sight of Kyle rattle her, and as a result, someone was able to read her thoughts, her feelings, her emotions.
Ana gave Halle the slightest of nods, letting her know she was fine, and they’d talk later. Well, maybe.
She hadn’t shared much about her personal life with anyone at Headquarters. Although, a Google search would throw the truth about her three-year marriage ending in divorce out for anyone to see if they were interested in looking. But she hadn’t felt like sharing her backstory with any of her co-workers. Not yet, not until she knew her teammates better.
Deputy Winters, who was in his early fifties, gave off a Robert Redford vibe, from his expressive eyes to his blond hair and bone structure.
“This is Special Agent Kyle Jeter.” Winters arched his shoulders back, adding an inch to his height of five-ten.
“No relation to Derek Jeter.” Her ex-husband’s joke that he wasn’t related to the former pro baseball player was his standard opening, and even now, he couldn’t help himself.
Kyle’s gaze circled the table, taking in his audience, a group of non-trusting and skeptical agents. If most of them still viewed Ana as an outsider, then Kyle didn’t stand a chance.
“Agent Jeter was on temporary assignment working with the Criminal Division in Hungary when he reached out to Headquarters about a possible assassination attempt on a Russian ballerina in New York,” Winters explained, hints of his Texas upbringing in his tone.
“As you know, the Hungarian government asked the U.S. to help break up Russian mobs in Budapest,” Kyle began. “We have a working squad there. Developing and operating informants. Gathering intelligence,” he continued. “What we are doing there is unprecedented.” His eyes swiftly moved to Ana. Did he know something? “I assume you all are well acquainted with the Volkovs since Katya was working for them.”
“I’m more familiar with the Petrovs since they’re the biggest Russian mob family in the world,” Dean said. “The Volkovs are Ana’s department.”
Ana’s mouth pinched tight, her focus falling to the table before her. No notepad there. She had every detail stitched into her mind from the moment the sources began going missing.
“The Petrovs were the FBI’s greatest concern up until the leader’s son died last year,” Kyle responded to Dean.
“Don’t tell me you’re really buying this ‘they’ve turned a new leaf’ BS?” Dean asked, adding air quotes for emphasis.
“We’ll have to give it time,” Kyle said. “But right now, the group that concerns me the most is the Volkovs, because as of five months ago, they re-emerged after having been dark for about fifteen years.”
Of all reasons for Kyle to be back in her life again . . . had he been looking into the Volkovs while in Hungary during his time there? Fuckity fuck. Why hadn’t she considered the possibility. Of course, his assignment had been classified, and he hadn’t told her why he’d been placed in Budapest when he left.
That awful gurgly feeling a person got when they were famished had Ana clutching her stomach.
“When Jeter reached out to Headquarters to warn us about the hit placed on a Russian ballerina in NYC, we realized the target was our unit’s source,” Winters said, interrupting Ana’s downward spiral. “But we were too late. Katya was already gone. Given Jeter’s close work with the Russians in Budapest, we requested his help.”
“We didn’t even believe the Volkovs were back and operating until we landed two new sources in the last few months, and they confirmed the Volkovs are discreetly operating again,” Griff noted. “We did place our other Volkov source down in Miami under heavy protection the moment we learned Katya vanished, just in case he was a potential target.”
“Remind me what happened fifteen years ago?” Dean asked. His expertise had more to do with Middle Eastern spies and terrorists, which was why he’d been assigned the accountant in connection to Hamas.
Kyle looked to Dean, but before he could speak up, Winters responded, “We believed the Volkovs were the right arm of the SVR following the days of the KGB and Cold War. But we’ve never been able to confirm that since the official line from the Russian government has always been that the two groups weren’t connected.”