Chapter 1
Chapter 1
The dank interior of the rotted-out shelter barely shed light on a man huddled in the corner, sipping a cold cup of coffee laced with vodka. Although it was the middle of the day, very little sunlight leaked inside since the previous owner had boarded up every window. The man ran his hand over the stubble on his face, contemplating his options.
Dimitri didn’t enjoy the position he was in. His superiors had assumed he double-crossed them merely because he’d helped Bridget escape. But that wasn’t accurate. William was the one who had arranged everything. Dimitri was merely the lackey William used to secure her transfer to the safe house. Unfortunately, facts did not matter to the Russians. Even a hint of disloyalty would get you killed.
He knew of only one way out of this mess. Somehow, he would need to convince the Russians they had eliminated the wrong target, and that Bridget was still alive. He’d been hiding in this literal rathole for two weeks while the US government had rounded up his comrades, except that snake, William.
“I’m going to make that mudak pay for what he’s done,” Dimitri screamed at the rat who casually strolled by. Dimitri paced the dark interior, kicking up dust and God knows what else. When another rat crossed his path, he brought down his heavy boot, crushing the annoying rodent beneath. A satisfied smirk grew on his gaunt face.
William’s name was not on the list because Bridget hadn’t known about him, but William didn’t know that. William was always careful to keep his fingerprints clear of any mission. He had men to do his dirty work.
It was a desperate strategy, but these were the only cards he had to play. If Dimitri’s plans worked the way he envisioned, all he needed to do was ensure anonymous intel reached William, proving Bridget had survived. Then he’d have the body double eliminated once he was in the clear. Maybe he could ensure the mysterious organization received the same intel, and perhaps they would do the job for him. He’d leave bread crumbs, just enough for an assassin to be conveniently sent to take care of the imposter. Or he’d let William think he’d found Bridget and let him snuff out that loose end. Of course, by then, Dimitri would be long gone.
He had a few allies he could turn to that owed him a favor or two, but he didn’t have a lot of time. It was a miracle the US government had not swept those allies up in a clean-up mission after obtaining that fucking thumb drive.
Dimitri had thought it divine intervention when he’d crossed paths with the woman he and William assumed dead. He couldn’t believe she was now living in San Diego instead of DC. Bridget hadn’t shown any interest when he’d shared the information with her—a blood relative. Damn, she was a cold fish. But that worked to his advantage. It was also fortunate Bridget hadn’t known about William and his role in assisting with her escape, but the Russians didn’t know that either. William would assume that Bridget knew all along about his double-cross.
It was stupid of Bridget to make that thumb drive, even though the list had excluded William’s name and his own. “I know there are more high-level Russians still in strategic positions. It won’t matter that I don’t know who they are because William will assume Bridget has a lot more intel beyond his name and position in the government,” Dimitri mumbled to himself and the rodents occupying his temporary lodging.
Even if William didn’t make that presumption, Dimitri would drag him in that direction until he understood the risks. He would want to ensure that Bridget did not survive the blast.
Lifting the burner phone to his ear, he contacted his friends. “I have a package for you to pick up. Da, yes, I’ll send the location and details on the car. In the parking lot, before her shift.”
A quick grab was necessary, and then he’d need to plant the seed for William to take notice. Dimitri suspected the women were very good at what they did. They’d somehow managed to capture Bridget. He’d just have to attract their attention and William’s. Let those women and William duke it out. The more William occupied himself with continued threats from that mysterious organization, the less time he would devote to tracking Dimitri down. William had a reason to hate them, and it would not bode well for him if they knew who he truly was. But then, why should he care? So be it if they got to William after he was free and clear.
William had kept his true identity hidden for the past thirty years, rising to a place of prominence and influence in the United States government. He was even more cunning than Bridget. At this point, Dimitri didn’t particularly care about the competent women in the illicit organization. Poking that bear was merely a means to an end. William, on the other hand, hated them with a passion. Dimitri heard how William had tried to convince everyone that the women were responsible for the death of his younger brothers, Leonid and Alexei. But the Russians weren’t buying his tale, not believing a group of biyads had prevailed over his brothers.
William was his only chance to escape his predicament. He had the resources to buy him off. Dimitri would find his own fake documents to leave the country, but he needed money to do that. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t ask for ten sets of false identities. Knowing William would follow every lead, he’d have fun making the Russians run after their own tail while he was escaping right under their noses. At this point, retirement was his only option.
†
An impeccably dressed man in an expensive Armani suit slammed the secure phone on his desk. His richly decorated office, with paintings of American heroes, enclosed William in a cocoon of luxury. Unfortunately, the mahogany desk gave the room an oppressive feel, along with the muted color on the walls and other antique furniture. But William didn’t mind the ambiance of the office; it suited him.
“I’m working with fucking amateurs,” he shouted in the empty chamber. Thick walls separated him from his assistant on the other side of the closed door.
Not only had the US government retrieved the thumb drive with names of nearly every Russian operative placed in the US, but now that bitch was running free, with God knows what damaging information. And she’d likely developed additional insurance regarding her survival from the authorized hit he’d personally ordered.
William had no choice but to round up most of his comrades because too many individuals had access to the sensitive data on the drive. He’d wondered at the time why his name was not on the list. Perhaps this was their plan all along. Did Dimitri expect they were about to double-cross Bridget?
At the time, his men had assured him they had resolved the problem. Then again, they had also convinced him that the thumb drive was in safe hands until it wasn’t. Now, his intel had informed him the damn cockroach was still alive. And how the fuck did they blast the wrong woman? The intel came through the secure Homeland Security channel, and the CIA was many things, but inaccurate wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t all that concerned about his superior in the US government. That man was an idiot. William would take his lumps, but there was no real threat to his position. On the other hand, Bridget and Dimitri had him by the balls.
Somehow, they’d switched a doppelgänger with what the government thought was Bridget. If they only knew what the actual story was. The truth was stranger than fiction, but only a few people knew she was alive.
So many years ago. That had also been a botched killing, but it didn’t seem crucial to complete the job. Then they’d lost track of the blasted woman. Fucking Dimitri, he was the one that was supposed to take care of Sasha. How in the world had he found her? William should have tracked her down all those years ago and ensured she wasn’t an issue.
Of course, this had Dimitri’s fingerprints all over it. He was the only other person who could have possibly known to make the switch with this other woman. He must have tracked her down for Bridget and sent her to the safe house in Bridget’s place. That’s why you never combined business with pleasure. Bridget had outmaneuvered him. Again.
Sweat dripped down his handsome forehead. It was only a matter of time before the cunning bitch contacted him. William would have to wait until they made their play. Blackmail for sure, but for what? Freedom? A new identity? This time, he might have to give her exactly what she wanted. That would most certainly include enough money for Dimitri’s freedom, but maybe not. Bridget seemed to use men as pawns. Her self-interests always prevailed. It was too bad, really. She was an excellent agent. She’d managed to further their cause. Although they’d not achieved their goal with the governor, Bridget had set the more pressing outcome in motion—increased extremism and divisiveness in the country. They might not even have to take out the governor because the American extremists would do it for them.
That didn’t make Bridget any less dangerous and someone they needed to eliminate. Permanently. Although William feared that even without the information she undoubtedly kept in a secure location, the US government wasn’t a bunch of imbeciles. At some point, they would ascertain that someone in the upper ranks of Homeland Security was a double agent.
Drumming his fingers on the massive imported desk, he considered his options. Then he abruptly stood, walked to the safe behind the fake wall and plucked his secure phone from inside, the one with a direct line to the Kremlin. Punching in the number to his superior, he began reporting, “Bridget Schmidt is alive. Permission to exercise clean-up protocol.”
After listening to the man on the other end of the phone, William responded, “Yes, I am aware of that. I suspect the same group of women are working with Bridget and Dimitri, but I haven’t located their complex. Nor have I determined exactly who these women are. All I have is the intel obtained based on previous interference, including the scant evidence of their involvement in Leonid and Alexei’s deaths.” William tried again to convince his superior these mysterious women existed, but he wasn’t biting.
“We still have not determined how they were able to track Bridget Schmidt or obtain the thumb drive. If only you would listen,” William pleaded again. “I believe these women command cutting-edge tech that even the US government does not possess. Therefore, we must presume Bridget controls additional information that would embarrass the Kremlin and place all of our operations at tremendous risk.”
Leaning back in his comfortable leather chair, he assured his handler. “No, I’m quite positive I am not compromised.” That was a lie, but he wasn’t about to reveal his suspicions. “I don’t believe Schmidt was privy to that level of confidential information. Although, she is certainly intelligent enough to make some suppositions. Yes, but that just reinforces my position that we eliminate the threat by activating our clean-up protocol. I don’t believe we can take that chance. Very well. I’ll take care of it.”
William needed air. The walls were closing in, and he couldn’t breathe anymore. Two fucking weeks. It had been two weeks since this mess had blown up in his face. He’d survived, but barely.
He knew it was only a matter of time before they discovered his real identity. While his brothers had taken a different path, one that did not directly help the motherland and that he personally found distasteful, he couldn’t really blame them. They hadn’t grown up with the same privileges as he had. He’d been fortunate to attend private schools and secure a master’s degree from a first-rate university in the United States. His placement in a prominent family in the US to groom him for greater glory was far different from growing up in the slums of Russia. Leonid and Alexei’s only choice to rise above the filth was to become ruthless mobsters. It wasn’t their fault. At least they’d contributed a portion of their earnings to the Russian government. That was something.
As he exited his office, squinting into the sunshine and taking in large breaths of air, his burner phone rang. “Hello. Ah, Dimitri. That didn’t take long. I was expecting to hear from Bridget. Yes, I’ve been authorized to do whatever it takes to ensure it does not compromise our mission. Name your requirements.”
The insignificant cockroach had the audacity to inform William he’d be in touch with further instructions, or all hell would break loose. At least he’d sent the asshole scrambling by insisting he provide proof of Bridget’s survival. No video corroboration. No exit package. That would give him two opportunities to catch the bastard. The video proof would need verification, and that meant two meetings or two drops.
“Could Dimitri and Bridget really be so stupid to think they can get away so easily? I’ll track every fake ID included in the package,” he mumbled to the empty room. The self-assurance was a desperate attempt to ease his doubts about having everything under control.
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