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“He went to another school?”
“If he did, I can’t find a record of it. But I did some searches of children’s groups in the town where he was born—sports teams, choirs, dance groups. Anything I could think of. I found a reference to a boy his age in a choir.” She tapped and a picture appeared with a bunch of smiling kids standing in two rows. She zoomed in on a dark-haired, dark-eyed boy with a long nose. He wasn’t smiling.
“Reuben,” Sawyer said.
“It doesn’t give a surname, but he’s listed as Mikhail in this picture.”
“Russian,” Sawyer breathed. “He’s Russian.”
Hollis tapped on the keyboard. “His parents names were Alex and Natalie Reuben.”
Sawyer frowned.
Excitement whipped through her as she kept tapping. “Strange thing is, there is no record of Alex and Natalie Reuben’s parents. There are names listed, but no history comes up for them. No addresses, no social security numbers.”
“Shit,” Park muttered.
“His parents were probably Russian sleeper agents,” Sawyer said. “Reuben was born here, but his parents weren’t. His allegiance is to Russia.”
Hollis gasped. “Sleeper agents? Really? That isn’t just something in spy movies?”
“No,” Sawyer replied.
“He’s moving shipments of something to or from Russia,” Park said. “Something important.”
Sawyer nodded and his brow creased. Then his cellphone dinged. “Vander wants a video call.”
Hollis reached out and tapped on the laptop screen. A second later, the call connected, and the face of a handsome, dark-haired man appeared. Even across the computer screen, an intensity radiated off him that made Parker seem chill.
“Hollis,” the man said.
“Vander,” she replied. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”
“One day, I hope it’s in person and under different circumstances.”
“Vander.” Sawyer leaned forward over her shoulder. “Hollis has been digging into Reuben’s background. He’s Russian. His name was Mikhail. We suspect he’s the son of sleeper agents.”
“That makes sense. We discovered what his shipments are.” Vander’s face sharpened. “Weapons. He’s smuggling high-tech, classified weapons back to Russia via the Port of Los Angeles. Hidden on cargo vessels.”
Sawyer cursed.
A muscle ticked in Vander’s jaw. “Some of it is experimental, military grade stuff. Drones, missiles, AI weapons technology.”
“He’s got to be stopped,” Sawyer clipped out.
“Oh, he will be. I’ve made some calls to friends of the federal kind. They’re working on arrest warrants now.”
“Warrants.” Hollis felt her chest hitch. “He’s going to go to jail? I’ll be safe?”
Vander’s dark gaze narrowed. “Eventually. The problem is the contract he’s put out on your life is still active. A lot ofcontract killers refuse to stop a job once they’re on it. To keep their reputation intact.”
Oh, God. It felt like this was never going to end. Sawyer’s hands landed on her shoulders.
“Ace has been combing security footage at Maui airport. He clocked these three.”
Pictures of three men flashed up on the screen.
They all looked like non-descript white men. One had a beard, one had a shaved head, and the other had dirty blonde hair.