Page 87

“Of course, it totally sucks,” she countered. “But on the upside, this gives us the opportunity to take out some really bad players for good. You know, cut off the head of the snake and all that.”

“I hope he burns,” Elvis said quietly, and we all looked at him in surprise. “They nearly killed the people I love most. More than once. All in an attempt to get to me.”

“Welcome to my life.” I rolled my neck. “Bottom line is we don’t leave any loose ends. We make sure Plotnikov and Sokholov are taken down.”

We all nodded grimly. We’d do what we had to do.

About ten minutes later, Eugene came back into the room holding an open laptop. “Here’s the email I just received from Lufthansa. They reported that Russian citizen, Sergei Sokholov, traveled from Frankfurt, Germany, to Dulles airport in Virginia three weeks ago. They said that he did not purchase a return ticket.”

Elvis shot straight up in his chair. “Sokholov is here? In the US.?”

“Why didn’t he show up in the Customs and Border Protection’s database?” I asked.

Eugene shrugged. “I don’t know, but we’ll investigate. The bottom line is that he’s in the US, and likely in the DC metropolitan area.”

We all let that sink in for a moment.

“Could Lufthansa provide us with the credit card number used to purchase that ticket?” I asked. “If so, it might give the FBI something to start tracking him.”

“Way ahead of you. They didn’t have it readily available, as they have security separation between their operational and financial systems. But we’ll pass that information along to the FBI as soon as we get it.”

Martin, the CIA guy, stuck his head inside the door. “Am I interrupting anything? I have some more information on Plotnikov.”

“What do you have?” said Eugene.

Martin walked in and set a tablet on the table. “We believe Plotnikov is likely holed up in his villa in Monaco. The place is isolated and reportedly well-guarded. He has a reputation for security, which I guess comes with making a lot of enemies. He is rarely seen socially. He isn’t Howard Hughes reclusive, but he stays away from the lavish jet-set lifestyle of some of the other oligarchs, especially when he’s abroad.”

“Would Monaco extradite him?”

Martin shrugged. “That’s not my expertise. Thornton could probably give you a better answer. In the past, Monaco hasn’t been terribly cooperative unless you had an ironclad justification. I don’t think we could even request a court order with the shaky evidence we have. Not without revealing our methods, which we really don’t want to do.”

“Is there anything we could do to get him to come to the US.?” Lexi asked.

“Oh, we’d have a nice warm cell waiting for him if he were that stupid,” Martin replied. “Being dumb isn’t his style, though. If we could somehow get him to Cyprus, however, I’d bet we could nab him.”

“Why’s that?” Xavier asked.

“A couple of reasons. One is that Cyprus really owes us. Can’t go into the details, but trust me, it’s there. But if Plotnikov were to land in Cyprus, and we had a little heads-up about it, certain folks might look the other way while we arrange, let’s say, private accommodations.”

I suddenly had an idea. “Lexi can you get me Sokholov’s email? The one you broke into just a little while ago.”

She looked puzzled. “Sure.”

“Do we have ready access to a fluent Russian speaker?” I asked Martin.

“We do. It will take us about an hour to get him over here, though. Will that work?”

“It should. Lexi, when you get me that email and the access information, I’d like you and the twins to head back to the hotel. Try to get some sleep before the wedding party luncheon. I’ll join you shortly. I need to let a few important people know what’s happening so they can plan accordingly.”

“Don’t you need some help?” Lexi asked.

“I do, but unless you speak and write Russian, it’s of no use.”

“So, you want us to go to the hotel and get some sleep?” she repeated, seemingly surprised I was sending her back.

I kissed her on the cheek. “That’s what I want. After all, one of us has to be awake for the wedding luncheon and dinner with the Holy Father.”

FORTY-SIX