Page 82 of Bombshell

“There’s someone we’re not accounting for,” I say.

There’s a long pause on the other end of the line, but eventually he answers, “I know.”

“Someone says they have evidence that incriminates me,” I have to be careful how I discuss this. For all I know, Noah is recording everything I say. “But why give that information to you, Noah?”

“...when it would be much more valuable in extorting you. I know. I was wondering how long it would take you.”

“You’re being played. Whoever this is can't be trusted with any of this, so are you really going to risk Sutton’s life on a wild card?”

“I wish I could believe you were a team player, Sterling,” Noah chides. “That’s the whole problem. If I give you this information, you aren’t going to turn around and use it to help the FBI. You’re going to undermine the little progress we’ve made on the Koltsovs.”

“And if you were able to do something with the information, you would already have done it. Look, you trusted the wrong person before and I know you see blood on your hands. Do you really want to have Sutton’s blood on them, too?” There’s another bout of silence, and I hear what sounds like a soft sigh of resignation. I’ve almost got him. “Whoever promised you evidence to use against me, they are in danger of fucking the Bratva. And anyone thinking of doing that can’t afford to let anyone find out. You’re never getting more. Whoever is doing this just wanted to scare me away. But that’s not happening, ever. So tell me. I’ll keep her safe. I’ll keep everyone safe. That’s all.”

“I can’t believe I’m fucking telling you.” Noah pauses, then drops his voice again. “It was an email sent to me through an anonymous remailer based in eastern Europe. The sender said they have video of you, Jack, and Luca doing business with the Koltsovs. A meeting at the Westminster Royal. Almost two years ago.”

I remember the meeting. I also remember the protocol for the meeting, which is spy-speak for all the stuff that’s done to keep away unwanted eavesdroppers. The protocols for Bratva meetings are extreme to say the least. Either Luca or Jack betrayed me, or there’s a traitor within the Bratva, or it’s a bluff and there is no video recording. There’s no other angle I can see. And then it hits me—so easy and simple I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. It’s not about someone. It’s all down to some place.

“Thanks, Noah. I owe you one.”

“Sterling?”

“Yeah?”

“I will collect. And not just for this one.” That’s the thing about Noah. He can only be manipulated so far. And he never forgets.

The Barrelhouse isn’t open yet, so I make my way to the alley entrance, which goes down a half flight of stairs to a basement space Jack is in the process of turning into a recording studio. Kai is there, struggling with bundles of fat, heavily rubberized cords.

“Fuck,” he barks, dropping his bundle of cords and shaking his hand. Then he sees me and gets an embarrassed look. “I bent a fingernail backwards.”

“I hate that,” I say, mostly because I’m not sure what else to say. I’ve never bothered to feign interest in small talk. It’s not that I don’t like Kai. Quite the opposite. He’s just been playing for Adair’s team, which placed us in the rivals category. That’s probably going to change. But today, I’m not here to talk to him.

“Jack?” I bark loudly, hoping he’ll emerge from one of the dimly lit hallways disappearing into the cavernous space beneath the Barrelhouse.

Kai takes his throbbing finger out of his mouth so he can speak. “He’s upstairs. We were trying to figure out the wiring plan for the studio.”

“This can’t wait.”

Kai takes a look around at the mess of cords, naked wiring, amps, mics and guitar stands, and heaves a heavy sigh. “Well, it wasn’t getting done in one day, anyway. I’ll just tell Jack I’m going to lunch on my way out.”

“Thanks.”

Kai disappears up the interior stairwell, into the Barrelhouse proper, and less than a minute later Jack’s feet appear on the stairs, followed by someone else.

“You need to talk about something?” Jack says, and by the time I see the pair of thousand dollar Italian leather shoes appear behind him, I know Luca has arrived, too. I called him on my way here. Apparently he was closer.

“I know who has been talking to Noah.”

“What? How the fuck did you figure that out?” Jack says.

“About time, actually.” Luca says, and when Jack gives him a disgusted look he adds, “What? I was getting bored.”

“It hit me when I called Noah—”

“You called Noah?” Luca says in disbelief. “Were you going to run that shit by us?”

“I didn’t really have a choice.” I fill them in on the situation with Sutton. By the time, I finish, Luca’s trigger finger is twitching. “So, yeah, I called Noah.”

“Why are we wasting time with him?” Luca asks. “I can have a location on Nikolai within the hour. He won’t see us coming.”