Page 61 of Denied Access (Mitch Rapp #24)

M OSCOW , R USSIA

S ORRY I’m late,” Irene said, shutting the yellow submarine’s door. “The ambassador was running behind.”

A series of guarded looks were exchanged between the six men and four women gathered around the yellow submarine’s simple conference table. Irene was no mind reader, but she’d spent enough time running agents to be able to make a pretty educated guess at what her fellow case officers were feeling.

Relief.

“How did it go with the ambassador?”

The question came from a man seated to her right. Irene matched his angular face with the picture in the personnel files she’d hurriedly reviewed on the flight over. “It’s Jason, right?”

“Yes, sorry. Jason Bailey. I’ve been at Moscow Station the longest, so I have the most experience weathering the ambassador’s storms.”

Irene frowned at his choice of words. She found it interesting that Jason touted his experience with regard to the ambassador rather than his familiarity with the Russians that the CIA officers were here to target. “Yes, well, while I appreciate that, I’m not concerned about the ambassador.”

Another flurry of looks. Irene watched dispassionately, genuinely curious who would step into the breach next. She caught Elysia’s eye, and the pretty brunette gave her a half smile. Something that more resembled an apology than encouragement.

How had this station drifted so far off course?

“Um, just to be clear, I’m assuming we’re no longer pursuing the volunteer from the note, correct? The Russian staff officer?”

Jason again. Irene wasn’t sure if he was the group’s spokesman because of his seniority or because he was the chief pot stirrer. Either way, she intended to keep him close.

“Why would you think that?” Irene said.

She’d debated asking how Jason knew what had been said during a private conversation between her and the ambassador, but didn’t.

Embassies were notoriously gossipy, and the ambassador had made a performance of her dressing-down.

No doubt the story of him pounding his desk in the face of the acting CIA station chief had spread like wildfire before she’d even left his office.

Besides, good spies should want to snoop.

Now she just had to hope that the men and women in the conference room with her were committed to gathering more than just gossip.

“Because the ambassador—”

“The ambassador does not run this station. I do. A Russian intelligence officer expressed his intention to provide vital information to stop a potential war in Latvia. Unless the president himself tells me otherwise, we are going to collect that information. Any other questions?”

Irene looked at each of her officers rather than focusing on Jason.

This was partly because she wanted to allow him to save face and partly because if her assessment had been incorrect and he was just the spokesman and not the resident troublemaker, she didn’t want to alienate a potential ally.

But more than that, she needed the case officers gathered around the table to internalize the reality that the days of playing it safe were over.

“Just one—Kris Henrik is still in a Russian prison, correct?”

Jason again.

Her first impression was definitely correct.

“The ambassador and his team are working tirelessly on this issue,” Irene said, “but yes, Miss Henrik is still detained.”

“That’s what I thought,” Jason said with a somber expression.

“Look, everyone in this room knew the risks when we signed up for this job. We accepted them. Our families did not. Maybe we should hunker down until Kris has been released. Or bring our spouses and kids onto the embassy grounds until this blows over.”

Irene nodded.

What Jason was proposing was infinitely reasonable.

It was also completely wrong.

The Russian counterintelligence officers were some of the best in the world and this was their backyard.

Even absent those advantages, only the most incompetent of spycatchers would miss the significance of the embassy staff’s families suddenly relocating.

As soon as vehicles full of women and children started rolling through the mission’s gates, the FSK would know what was up.

Every asset was precious, but the man who’d surreptitiously dropped a note in an American’s car wasn’t just another asset.

The opportunity to recruit someone at his level came along once in a career.

Even without the trouble brewing in Latvia, she would have put much on the line to meet with him.

Given their current circumstances, Irene was willing to go all in.

“Moving dependents onto embassy grounds would tip our hand to the Russians,” Irene said.

“We can’t run that risk, but I’m also not discounting the danger to your family.

We’re going to run an operation to link up with this Russian, but we won’t use anyone’s spouse for the meet the way Kris was used. Good?”

“What if the Russians don’t see the distinction. What if they decide to detain another spouse, or God forbid, a child? What then?”

“Then the Russians will have made a critical mistake. There are rules to the way this game is played.”

Jason snorted. “Not from where I’m sitting. Kris Henrik is in a cell, and her husband is back in DC. If there are rules, the Russians haven’t suffered any consequences for breaking them.”

Irene looked from Jason to the row of clocks mounted along the wall above their heads.

Her gaze lingered on the one labeled WASHINGTON, DC before shifting back to Jason.

“That was true earlier today. It will not be true by the time we execute our operation to link up with the volunteer. The Russians are about to receive a very unambiguous message. There will be no more American spouses taken into custody.”

“How—”

“How isn’t important, Jason,” Irene said, interrupting the case officer. “You expressed your concerns, and I addressed them. That part of the conversation is over. Understood?”

Judging by the set of his jaw, Jason did not think the conversation was over, but he gave a curt nod.

Not an apology accompanied by a promise to be a team player, but she would take what she could get.

Moscow Station was undermanned as it was.

She really couldn’t afford to bench any more of her players, no matter how much they might deserve it.

“Good,” Irene said. “Then let’s get to it. I need to know each of your heat states. Please tell the group whether or not you are currently under surveillance. If you are, for how long. If you’re not, then give us the last time you did have watchers. Elysia, let’s start with you.”