Page 69 of The Pakhan's Secret Babies
Black car. No plates visible from this angle. Engine off. The driver’s seat is occupied.
I call Kostya.
He answers before the second ring.
“The car outside,” I say.
“I see it,” he says. “We flagged it forty minutes ago. We’ve been running the plate.”
“And.”
“Registered to a shell company in New Jersey. The company was incorporated eight months ago.” A pause. “The registered agent is a name we’ve seen before in the Marchetti financial records.”
I look at the camera feed on my phone. The car sitting across from my building in the dark, engine off, the driver’s seat occupied, one hundred and sixty-three minutes of watching.
“They’re not waiting for the operation,” I say. “They’re running surveillance. They’re watching the building to update what Grigori gave them.”
“Yes,” Kostya says.
“Pick him up,” I say. “Quietly. I want to know everything he has reported back and to whom and when.” I look at the camera feed one more time. “And Kostya. Do it before he makes another call.”
I put the phone down.
I look at the Renko file on my desk.
Four days.
29
ELENA
Roman is already dressedwhen I come out of my room at seven. He’s standing at the kitchen counter with his phone in his hand and his jacket on and he looks up when he hears me and says, “Sit down, I need to talk to you.”
Something about the combination of those two things, fully dressed at seven and needing to talk, makes me pull out the chair and sit without saying anything.
He puts his phone face down on the counter.
“Your security detail is being increased,” he says. “Eight men on rotation instead of four. Two inside the building at all times, not just the lobby.” He holds my gaze. “Your schedule also needs to go through Kostya for approval before anything is confirmed. Appointments, visits, any time you leave this building.”
I look at him. “Why?”
“There is an elevated threat level. It is a precaution.”
“An elevated threat level,” I say. “From what?”
“From the current operational environment.”
I put both hands flat on the table. “Roman. I am not one of your operatives. You cannot brief me in code and expect me to nod and go back to my room. What is the elevated threat? What is the current operational environment? What are you actually telling me?”
He picks up his phone and puts it in his jacket pocket. “I’m telling you that your detail is being increased, and your schedule needs Kostya’s approval. That is what I am telling you.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It’s the answer I’m giving you.”
I stand up. “Then it’s not good enough.”
He looks at me across the kitchen. His jaw is set, and his eyes are steady. He’s doing the thing he does when he has made a decision and has no intention of revisiting it, but I have been watching this man’s face for two years, and I’m not moving until he gives me something real.
