Stalked in Silver Valley

by Geri Krotow

  “Oh.” He lifted an arm to rub his face and saw that the IV needle was in the top of his hand. “We took a break from the op, since it looked like we were going to have to wait for the bulk of the hunters to show up before Ivanov would risk active chatter. Kit did think he was there, but couldn’t be sure and he never stayed active enough for her to definitively trace him.”

  “Yes, she told me that much. When did you know there was an intruder?”

  “My Jeep. It blew up. I knew as soon as I heard it that we were under attack. I was in the shower and Kit was in the sauna.”

  “How much time until you were in the woods, trying to get past the cabin?”

  “No more than two minutes, tops.” Kit had worked beside him like any other agent, keeping her cool and doing the next right thing. “Kit was a champ. She takes direction without question and never got in the way of the op, or what I tried to do. Where’s Mishka?”

  “He’s in custody, healing here from the gunshot wound.”

  “You shot him? Or Colt?”

  “No—Kit shot him. Took him out before he could mow down Colt with the AR-15 he was carrying. I was backing up Colt and would have shot, but Kit acted more quickly and most likely saved all four of us.”

  “I knew she had it in her. If she had to, that is.”

  “She’s not going to be in any kind of trouble for using a weapon, if that’s on your mind.”

  “No, it’s not. Not at all.” He rested for a minute, hating how he couldn’t push through the pain and exhaustion. Claudia remained silent and he was so grateful in the moment that she had combat experience as a US Marine and had seen her share of wounded men. His current state wouldn’t be held against him and she’d get him back in the field ASAP. “I messed up, Claudia.”

  “Hey, if you’re about to tell me something personal that went on between you and Kit, save it. I’m your director, not your priest.”

  “Don’t make me laugh. I don’t have the energy.”

  “Is there something else you needed to say?”

  “Yes. I mean it—I made a mistake. I know Kit’s been through so much and it’s never a good idea to get involved with someone you’re working with, and yet I did. But I promise that our involvement did nothing to hurt the op.” In fact being in the bath hut had bought them time they wouldn’t have had in the cabin. No matter that it was a fortress of sorts, they’d have been forced to leave through the one door and been far more vulnerable.

  “I implicitly trust both of you, Luther. You did an excellent job so far, but of course your cover’s been blown at least with Mishka, and whoever he spoke to, so Kit’s in one of our TH safe houses, working on the mission from there.” She told him exactly which one. He was familiar with it from reports he’d read. “There are several TH agents coming and going from this particular location, so she’s never alone. She’s safe, Luther.”

  He had to see her, but now wasn’t the time to press Claudia. It had to be mission first, and besides, he wasn’t in any shape to take off and find Kit. But once he was, he’d ask about visting her.

  “Claudia, one more thing—how did Mishka ever find us? I was careful to not be followed.”

  “You were, but some officers are better at surveillance than others.”

  “‘Officers?’”

  She nodded, her grim expression not unlike the granite outcroppings all along the Appalachian Trail. “Yes. Our forensics team found evidence of GPS trackers on the frame of your Jeep. They were still intact, surprisingly. We believe there’s a mole at SVPD.”

  He tried to whistle but his lips were too dry. This time he reached for the water, the plastic cup on a bed table over his lap. Gulping the water down, he thought of Kit, how she’d be doing. Did she know there was a mole?

  “Any idea who?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Wait—do you think Mishka had anything to do with the shooting at Kit’s apartment, that he got information from the mole?” Realization dawned and his gut swirled, but it wasn’t from the pain meds, which often made him nauseous. That was why the shooter, if it was Mishka, knew Kit had someone in her apartment—another man.

  “Yes, we think Mishka was the shooter. We’re waiting on the ballistics from the handgun he had on him at the cabin, to match them with the shells we found in Kit’s apartment. Colt thinks it’s someone in SVPD that has been turned because of either a threat from ROC, or by becoming involved in the heroin trade themselves. It’s not uncommon in local precincts, unfortunately. And face it, East Coast ROC is on its last legs. It needs every last helping hand it can find.”

  “But ROC lost Vadim Valensky when he was imprisoned. I would think the authorities would make sure his son, Mishka, had no leverage with ROC anymore.”

  “We all thought Mishka Valensky would find a more legal means of making a living, and on the surface it looked like he had, with the pawnshop.”

  “But?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know since we haven’t been able to interrogate him yet. His injuries were far more serious than yours.”

  So Kit had aimed not to injure, but kill. He knew she wouldn’t have done it unless forced to, but he was proud of her for digging deep and doing the right thing, to save her life as well as Claudia’s and Colt’s.

  She saved your life, too.

  “We were so close to cornering Ivanov.” He couldn’t keep the regret out of his voice and closed his eyes as the weight of exhaustion tugged him down.

  “We’ll get him—you will, Luther. Rest for now. Kit’s on the case until you’re ready.”

  As he sank back into darkness, he thought about almost witnessing a second woman he cared about die. But Kit was alive, and had never been the willing wife of a mob boss.

  Kit was her own woman. He’d best remember that, because in this weakened state he couldn’t stop thinking about her and how much he wanted her as his woman.

  His lifelong partner.

  * * *

  “Come here, sweet boy.” Kit petted Koshka’s silky black fur and he purred in response, curling into her lap as she worked at the comms station. Claudia had no problem with agents and analysts bringing their pets to one of the more modern safe houses.

  Kit had been given half a day to gather what she needed for the next few weeks. The safe house was actually a fairly large complex, with a full operational facility located in the back rooms, apart from the main living quarters. It was as modern as her home with Vadim had been, but without the garish embellishments and constant reminders of his trophy hunting. If she lived to be one hundred, it wouldn’t be long enough to never see another animal the taxidermist had preserved.

  “Any luck today?” Trina Lopez-Bristol, a former US Marshal and one of the first Trail Hikers Agents who’d befriended Kit, sat in the chair next to the bank of screens.

  “No. I’m beginning to think that Mishka Valensky ruined our chances of nabbing Ivanov, at least in this area. There have been absolutely zero hits on cell phones matching the burners we know he and Markova purchased.”

  “That was a brilliant feat, figuring out where the burners had come from.” Trina referred to how Kit and the TH comms team had been able to detect frequency characteristics attributed to only one certain make of burner phone, and then trace them to one specific superstore in Western Pennsylvania, where other sporadic sightings of Ivanov and Markova had occurred.

  “It’s not doing us a lot of good now, unfortunately.”

  “Have patience. When I was a Marshal I used to think it was time to give up on a target. But just when it looked like I’d lost a trail, or they’d managed to disappear again, opportunity opened up. It will with these two.”

  “I wish I had your confidence.”

  “You have more than that. Luther wouldn’t have agreed to work with you if you weren’t top-notch.”

  “Everyone at TH is the best.”<
br />
  “True, but some of us are more special.” Trina shot her a wide grin and Kit laughed. The mention of Luther’s name, however, made the sad longing for him flare, and she wished for the hundredth time she’d ignored Claudia’s order to stick to going to her apartment and then directly to the safe house. But she didn’t want to get herself, or Luther, in trouble with Claudia. And Claudia and Colt were right; Kit had a big target on her head. She’d helped take their number one human trafficker on the East Coast out of commission. ROC didn’t forgive and forget.

  “How was your time with Luther, out in the woods?” Trina asked the question innocently enough, but Kit wasn’t budging.

  “Um, it was good, until the shoot-out.”

  “You saved the day, from what I heard.”

  Kit shook her head. “All I did was do my job. Anyone in that circumstance would have shot Mishka.”

  “It was brave of you, Kit. After all you’ve been through, no one would blame you if you’d frozen.” Trina’s frank assessment soothed Kit’s concerns about whether she’d done everything correctly—had she aimed the gun higher or lower, Mishka wouldn’t be here. But if she’d gone for his legs, he could have been interviewed sooner, giving up information that was more actionable.

  “Everyone here seems to know what my life was like before.” She didn’t confide in anyone but her therapist and Annie, but the TH agents along with several of the SVPD officers had all seen notes about her in Vadim’s file. They’d been in on the operation that took Vadim out and saved countless women from becoming sex slaves. “What you all don’t realize is that I’m so grateful to be working alongside you, making a difference, putting a dent in ROC and other crime organizations. I don’t want one other girl to ever go through what I did. What we do here at TH matters, you know?”

  Trina nodded. “Trust me, I get it. When Rob and I got back together, it was during an attempt to bring down Ivanov. We have a son, as you know, and the thought of not only ROC personally but the heroin affecting his life makes me shake in my boots.”

  “Pennsylvania’s done a lot to enact laws to protect us all from the opioid epidemic, but we have to do our part to stop the supply, too.”

  “And you are, Kit. Look how much help your language skills have lent to the cause!”

  “If I can get a comms hit on Ivanov or Markova, it’d make my day.” Kit had complete confidence that once TH or SVPD found Ivanov, it’d be the end of the road for him and Markova.

  “What’s going on?” They turned to face Rob Bristol, a former Navy SEAL turned Trail Hiker. He spoke to both of them but his eyes focused on his wife, and Kit did her best to ignore the deep pang their obvious bond triggered. Since when had she longed for that kind of love aimed at her?

  “Nothing, yet, but Kit’s going to catch them at any moment. I’m certain.”

  “Ha. From your lips to the heavens.” They all laughed, and Kit knew they weren’t laughing at how she’d murdered the saying. She let the warmth of being included in a group of such stellar people buoy her and told herself it was enough. It had to be.

  “Ready to head home?” Trina stood and walked over to Rob.

  “Yeah.” They looked at Kit.

  Trina spoke. “We’ve got to get home to take Jake to soccer practice.”

  “There’s still soccer after Thanksgiving?”

  “He’s on a travel team,” Rob answered, but they both beamed with pride. Kit didn’t know much about the couple, except that they’d reunited several years after their son had been conceived during a combat mission, when they were in the Navy.

  “Enjoy!” She wiggled her fingers at them and decided it was time for a quick cup of tea. She’d been sitting at the console for the last couple of hours with zero results. The operations center was always manned, 24-7, and during a high stakes op other TH agents worked from the locale, as well. Like Trina and Rob, they often commuted the hour to and from Silver Valley.

  “Hey, Amy, will you take my screens for a few? Can I get you a cup of coffee or tea?” She spoke to the comms agent who was working until midnight.

  “Sure thing. I’ll have a green tea.”

  “No problem. Thanks for spelling me.” Kit went into the community kitchen and made the tea, trying to keep her mind off Luther and how he’d be feeling by now. It’d been almost a week, and she hadn’t seen or heard from him. Not that she should—he didn’t owe her anything. And she had to stop thinking of him as more than a work colleague, or a man she’d happened to let bring her to orgasm.

  But it was impossible. Luther was more than a TH partner or a onetime lover. They’d formed a bond out in that tiny cabin.

  All those years with Vadim she’d walled herself off emotionally from him, even in the most intimate acts. She had urges and sensations, but sex with Vadim had never been pleasurable. And he was so selfish, never even asking her if she’d been satisfied.

  In Luther’s arms last week, she’d discovered what she’d been missing, and what she could look forward to again.

  She and Luther shared undeniable chemistry, and if it were possible to date him without it being so complicated, she’d consider it. But he’d made it clear he wasn’t in the market for a girlfriend, and Kit hadn’t gone through all the years of counseling and PTSD therapy of the past years to not know who she was. She’d be risking her heart if she got too close to Luther. He was that kind of man.

  Knowing what was best for her was a far cry from stopping the longing that assaulted her with every memory of him, though.

  Chapter 17

  “We still don’t know who the leak is?” Luther stood in Colt’s office, preferring to keep his leg straight than lower himself into the deep chairs in front of the desk. A week out and his thigh was still sore as heck.

  “No. I’ve narrowed it down to maybe five possibilities, but you know what this is like. It’s trying to find the snake amongst the brothers and sisters you trust with your life.”

  “Right.” He winced. There had been a turncoat in one of his undercover teams in the FBI when he’d been a new agent. The sense of betrayal had hit the other agents hard, and the guilty party was still in jail for passing classified information to the enemy. “Claudia sent me over to see if you’ve been able to get any more information from Mishka Valensky.” SVPD had jurisdiction in all that happened with the case, at the agreement of FBI, DEA and other local LEA. Trail Hikers didn’t exist in practicality, and the federal agencies didn’t want their presence in the area exposed.

  “I was at the hospital this morning. He’s still not talking.”

  “He will once he figures out he’ll be next to Daddy in the slammer.”

  Colt shook his head. “I’m not so sure. One thing with ROC and anyone who’s worked for them, they hold out hope of a breakout or release due to their slick lawyers. They’re not the cooperating kind.” Colt picked up a file from his desk and handed it to Luther. “These came in, though. I haven’t been able to get them to Claudia or TH yet. I don’t want to risk anyone in my department seeing them.” Colt’s voice was heavy with his regret over the leak.

  “Understood.” Luther took the file and flipped through its contents—several photographs of Ivanov and a woman whose facial profile matched Markova’s, but with different hairstyles. They were in the same car, at different highway pit stops and small-town grocers. “They’re not flipping cars like they were a few weeks ago.”

  “No. And they’re being bold, stopping at some of the same gas stations more than once.”

  “Like they want a showdown. They’re headed to the win-or-die meeting.” Luther thumbed the last photo, taken as Markova got into the driver’s seat of the sedan, Ivanov on the passenger side. “It’s not like Ivanov to give up control, even with driving.”

  “I thought the same. Do you see anything different about his face?”

  Luther studied the photo more closely. “If the c
olor’s correct, he looks kind of off. Yellow, even.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You think it’s the ROC disease?” Luther looked to Colt for his opinion. So many ROC bosses had bitten the dust over the years not from being captured by LEA but from cirrhosis and other complications of alcoholism. It was the genetic curse of many, and especially those raised on vodka.

  “Could be. But Claudia and I are certain of one thing.” Colt paused, weighing his words. “We think that Markova wants to take over ROC.”

  Understanding hit Luther. “That makes sense. Why else would she allow him to hold her hostage this past year?”

  “It’s clear from the photos that she isn’t being kept on a tight leash by him any longer. She goes in and out of stores while he waits in the car.”

  “Unlike when they first took off after the tombstone shoot-out. What do you want me to do?” He’d gotten orders from Claudia to work with Colt as a liaison between TH and SVPD. It chafed his butt that he couldn’t get back in the thick of it, but his injury would put too many at risk.

  “I think we need you at the safe house.” Colt didn’t look up from his keyboard as he typed, for which Luther was grateful. He’d wanted to race to Kit’s side as soon as Claudia had told him where Kit was. “I’m printing out all SVPD has on Markova and Ivanov, so you’ll know what our regular cops have. The ones who work with TH know more, like you.”

  “How are we going to figure out who your mole is, Chief?”

  Colt met his gaze this time, and Luther saw a lifetime of weariness. “I’ve only had one other in SVPD, but I’ve faced bad cops in two other departments when I was younger. It’s my experience that they usually do themselves in. My one hope is that it happens without hurting any of our people, SVPD and TH. Here you go.” Colt grabbed the reports off his printer and handed them to Luther. “Get a good night’s rest, then head out to the safe house at dawn.”

  Luther nodded. It was protocol not to come and go at the safe house during daylight unless absolutely necessary. “Roger. See you out there, Chief.”