by K. T. Lee
“Might?” Quinn’s whole demeanor stiffened, not unlike the sweet family pet who is suddenly willing to defend the whole family from a stranger at the door.
Joey rubbed a hand down his face. “The call was routed through a lot of different countries to hide its caller. One of the many locations the call could have come from happens to be within a few blocks of an apartment Dmitri rented under an assumed name. The NSA traced the call to the Oceanic Exploration Group. For whatever that’s worth.”
Quinn lifted an eyebrow. “It’s worth telling me. You think we should follow up on it?”
“Officially, I can’t prove someone on Dmitri’s team landed there.” Joey’s jaw set. “And if it were anyone else, I’d say we should wait until we have more to go on. But, yeah. I’d like to follow up on it.”
“Good.” Quinn studied him. “You’re pretty sure, then. You okay if I share your report with the FBI? I’d like to get their thoughts too.”
Joey nodded. Their allies at the FBI had been more than just a security detail on the last operation; they’d also been a great sounding board. “I expected you would. What do you think they’ll say if we tell them our suspicions? We’re overreacting?”
Quinn tapped her fingers against the sides of her travel mug. “Doubt it. Alexis and Parker are just as invested as we are in all of this. Want to tell me why your brain looks like it’s grinding gears?”
“I softened my conclusions.” Joey ran a hand down his face. “All of the evidence points to Dmitri laying low. The only thing I have to go on is that phone call and some infrequent email traffic.”
Quinn tilted her head. “You think he’s giving up?”
Joey’s jaw tightened. “See, that’s just it. A guy like Dmitri isn’t going to back down in the face of authority, no matter how much his government thinks they’ve sidelined him. The Russian government said they assigned him to work with scientists on safely disposing of nuclear waste, but I don’t think we can assume he’s just going to meekly follow instructions. He likes outsmarting other people too much. Practically, his motivations aren’t that different from a guy who would make a homemade flamethrower and burn down five acres and his own garage. Just a little more strategic.”
“I’m assuming that’s not a hypothetical scenario.”
Despite his busy schedule with the CIA, Joey volunteered for his local fire station on his days off. He lived out in the country despite the hellish commute because the peace and quiet were worth it, and his side gig occasionally was as interesting as his day job. “Yeah, it took us a full day to get the fire under control. Apparently, he considered the legal ban on flamethrowers to be a personal challenge to design one that could be used safely to prove us all wrong. Spoiler alert: he did not prove us all wrong.”
Quinn snorted. “So, what do you propose we do about Dmitri’s metaphorical flamethrower?”
“We figure out what Dmitri wants from the Oceanic Exploration Group.” Joey steepled his fingers. “He’s up to something, and every time he’s up to something, people get hurt.”
3
FBI Special Agent Alexis Thompson tapped out a beat on her mouse while she sped through the latest update provided by Joey P., an analyst at the CIA. Despite their work together on a cross-agency task force, the CIA still held some information close to the vest, including most of their employees’ full names. Still, if she got access to the unredacted reports from partially-named employees, she wasn’t going to complain.
Alexis was surrounded by her colleagues in a semi-open space at the FBI Chicago offices, but her focus quieted the external noise. Joey had stuck to the facts, as she was learning was his habit, but he’d mentioned a strange call to a marine research company that had a very small chance of coming from Dmitri. She’d read enough of Joey P.’s reports by now to know that he must consider it important if he included it. Alexis typed a request into the search box of the FBI’s internal database and waited. Her computer made some angry clicking noises and the internal fan began to run at full blast. While she could just respond with a simple thank you, some part of her brain told her to keep digging. It wasn’t entirely different from the instincts she observed in Waffle, her loyal partner and explosives detection dog, when he started to pick up a scent.
Alexis sighed with relief when the results finally began to load and her computer didn’t self-destruct. Waffle opened one eye, then turned his head in silent question. She gave him a quick pat and he fell back asleep, less spellbound by her computer not crashing under the weight of her search than she. Alexis scrolled through the results, resuming her tapping. Something soft whumped into the back of her head. She picked the mini foam football up off the floor and turned to send it flying back to its sender, but her coworkers were all suddenly very busy at their desks. She looked a little closer. Parker Mitchell’s eyes were focused on a report, but his jaw ticked, just a little. Her return throw at her team lead was perfectly on target, with a neat spiral on the toy projectile. And people thought growing up playing up with siblings didn’t teach real-life skills. Despite his carefully cultivated distraction, Parker spotted her throw and ducked the football just before it made contact. The small orange football maintained its spiral until it hit the wall behind him. Parker rose from his desk to pick it up and bring it back to her. “Okay, what’s eating you?”
“Did you check your email?”
Parker looked down at the report open on her computer. “Not yet, but I will now. Do you want to talk now or wait until I sift through the report?”
“Now, if you don’t want to hear any more nervous tapping.” She smiled. “Later, if you don’t mind it.”
Parker chuckled. “Conference room?”
“Yes, please.” Alexis popped her laptop out of its docking station and tucked it under her arm.
Although they were within the walls of the FBI Chicago headquarters, this particular operation was sprinkled so liberally with top-secret designations that they couldn’t even discuss it within earshot of their colleagues. It was unfortunate, considering the value they would bring to the table, but Alexis was going to see this through, even if she had to play by the CIA’s rules to do it.
Parker walked over to a small conference room and opened the door. Waffle stood and stretched, then dutifully followed his mistress through the open door. Once it was closed, Parker sat in a chair. “Okay, what’s in the report? Also, it’s only been in your inbox for less than half an hour. Did you read the whole thing already?”
“Yeah. Joey mentioned an unusual phone call to a research facility in San Francisco that may have come from Dmitri.” Alexis sat across from Parker, then rose to pace the room. “He’s supposed to be in a town called Dubna to lick his wounds and not cause trouble. I ran a search using the new keywords in the report and found nothing to refute that assumption. But something’s not right.” She smacked her forehead. “That’s it. That’s the problem. We should be hearing something. Complaints to his former superiors, requests to get back in the game, anything.”
Parker tilted his head. “That’s fair. Something tells me that’s not everything on your mind.”
“Correct. When I arrested Dmitri’s hitman, he gave us the names of two sleeper agents. The CIA wanted to leave them in place to see what they did. One moved to a small town. He has exchanged some coded emails with one of Dmitri’s minions and we think he wants to cut ties and skip the country. His boss isn’t happy his guy is more focused on self-preservation than loyalty. The other operative we could never pin down. All we had was a code name and an email. This guy disappeared like vapor.”
Parker leaned in. “Have the CIA or NSA found anything else?”
Waffle rose to lick Alexis’s hand. She sat down to give him a pet. “Just the occasional coded email into an account they don’t know we’ve hacked. Every month, one email arrives, like clockwork. I just re-ran that search too, and there isn’t anything new. But, see, that’s just it, P. Something should have changed. The emails read like high-level chit
-chat. Dmitri doesn’t chit-chat. I think our guy is doing work for Dmitri and the emails are coded. Oh! Of course! That’s it. The emails.” Alexis bent over her computer and began typing furiously.
Parker looked over her shoulder. “So you think the phone call–”
“One sec.” Alexis held up a finger. “Ah, the mysterious phone call that passed through Dmitri’s apartment in Moscow was received in the same suburb in San Francisco as where our sleeper agent last checked his email. Gotcha.” She looked up with a victorious grin. “It’s an assumption on top of a big pile of circumstantial evidence, but it’s the closest thing we’ve had to a lead in months.”
Parker pulled out his phone. “What was the name of the research facility?”
Alexis pulled up the report on her laptop and resumed tapping her fingers, this time with excitement instead of nervous energy. “Let me get the name. It’s a medium-sized company that does ocean research – I’d never heard of it before.”
Parker’s tone turned more serious. “What kind of ocean research?”
Alexis leaned into the screen, talking more to it than Parker. “They get samples and measure a bunch of stuff in the shallow and deep ocean. Ah, here it is. The company name is the…Oceanic Exploration Group. They’re not particularly well known outside of their field, but they’re well-respected within it.” She finally leaned back and gestured to the website on her laptop. “Their website is pretty high level…”
Parker pinched his nose with two fingers and closed his eyes. He didn’t look anywhere near her computer.
“Did I miss something?” Alexis gave him a curious look.
Parker shook his head. “No, but I’m going to have a big problem with my wife. Her sister, Stefanie, just took a job there. She’s talked to Ree about it at least a dozen times. Now, I have to warn her that she happened to land in a place with a sleeper agent from one of the FBI’s operations. Stefanie has been trying to get in with them for about two years and was over the moon to get the job.” Parker sighed. “And, Ree’s cleared for the operation, so I really have no excuse not to tell her. This conversation is not going to go well.”
Alexis winced. “Yeah, no way Ree is going to leave that alone. She might start throwing elbows and go to San Francisco to become Stefanie’s personal bodyguard. This is…not good.”
“Understatement of the year.” Parker rubbed the back of his neck.
Alexis tapped a finger against her lips. “You know, maybe we’re looking at this all wrong. Ree’s sister could finally be our big break. We’d have an instant, trustworthy source on the inside without making any big moves that could spook Dmitri’s guy. She could keep an ear to the ground or even plant some cameras or recording equipment for us. We won’t have trouble getting permission for that.”
Parker leaned back in the chair and rubbed his temples. “If the company is that big, we can send one of our own. I don’t see any reason to get Ree’s sister involved. We can monitor communications without putting anyone at risk.” He sat up. “Plus, if both Ree and her sister are involved in an FBI operation, I’m not sure they’ll forgive me for putting both of them in the middle of this.”
“Oh, my friend. You and I both know that’s not what you’re worried about.” Alexis gave him a knowing look. “The real problem is that if Stefanie is anything like Ree, you won’t be able to keep her from helping. Then, you’ll have one more family member to stress about.”
Parker eyed her. “Does the psychoanalysis come free when I volunteer to involve my family?”
“Buddy, you know all psychoanalysis comes free just for working with me. And you didn’t volunteer.” Alexis jumped up and patted him on the back. “However, since you’re married to Ree, I’ll give you a head start if you want to talk to her first. Unless you want me to do it.”
Parker stood and cracked his neck. “Nope, that’s definitely worse. If Stefanie helps out, she’ll find out about Ree’s involvement on multiple operations, which means we need to run this by the CIA too. I’d rather warn her and extract her if things get tricky, but I think you’re right. She’s going to want to get involved.”
4
The morning after her successful research platform deployment, Stefanie came into the office with a bounce in her step. Amazing how a decent night’s sleep after a rewarding day could give her such an energy boost. She placed her oversized bag next to her desk and took a large sip of coffee from her reusable mug. She took in her brand-new office, still not quite believing that she’d landed a job at the Oceanic Exploration Group. The man who hired her said he believed in her potential, and she had no intention of letting him down. A small tag on her office door read: Stefanie Ryland, Director of Research. Even though she only had one direct report to start out, the pressure she was putting on herself was immense. At least her first trip out on the OEG’s flagship vessel had gone smoothly. It helped that her direct report, Nash, had her back. They’d known each other for some time – he’d worked for her at a start-up when he was in college. When he graduated, the company she’d been working for didn’t have a position available, so she’d written him several recommendation letters. He was the one who’d reached out to tell her about the latest open position and likely put in a good word for her.
Stefanie started up her laptop for the day and eyed the email in her inbox from Cole Davidson, her manager. While she’d expected a request for an update on the trip, instead she found a reminder to fill out the friendly ‘get-to-know-you’ email she’d received from Peggy, his administrative assistant. The questions had clearly been fully sanitized by corporate lawyers to include such challenging questions as: How many siblings do you have? How many pets do you have? What are your hobbies? Stefanie eyed her still-full coffee. She hadn’t had enough caffeine yet to answer canned questions, so she filtered the questionnaire into a folder for later review. They could find out about her karate black belts and childhood goldfish later. First, she had a report to write on the prior day’s research platform deployment.
Stefanie’s phone had saved the data they collected while they were in range of the newly-deployed platform. She had set up a schedule with the customer to go out and retrieve additional data every couple of weeks on a smaller boat since the equipment wasn’t far from their home base. Stefanie pulled up pictures she had taken from the trip and added them to her report. She pulled up the map on her phone, but she was too far away from any of their platforms to get a signal. She wasn’t sure exactly what she’d been hoping for. Something about seeing the extra research platform signal the day prior still bothered her, and it hadn’t been remedied by a good night’s sleep. She shook off the thought – she had enough things to worry about. She certainly didn’t need to fabricate problems to add to her list.
Once her report was complete and coffee long gone, Stefanie sorted the remaining messages in her inbox into appropriate folders to manage later. While her sister, Ree, was an engineering professor whose neatness extended to color-coding her files, Stefanie generally just tried to organize things enough at the start of a day so that things didn’t get out of hand by the end of the day. On a busy project, her desk would occasionally start to transition from neat piles to merely sorted, borderline-toppling ones.
When the last bolded email was handled, she locked her computer. It was finally time to go to the lab to do some more interesting work. Before she could rise from her chair, Stefanie heard a quick tap on the door. She looked up to see Nash in the doorway. He was a lot more formal in the office than when they were working together on the boat. She didn’t possess his ability to change her personality on demand. However, she generally was a considerate person, which meant she didn’t end up with her foot in her mouth very often. “Hi, Nash. What can I help you with?”
Nash leaned against the door frame. He was a couple of years out of undergrad and had black, medium-length hair that occasionally fell over his eyes. He often pushed it back out of his face as a nervous habit. “Hey, boss. Actually, I was hoping to chat w
ith you more about your request to build a couple of backup platforms and deploy them as test systems the next time we go out to check data.”
“Oh?” Stefanie waved him in. Nash might be younger than her, but he had more experience than she did at the company. He wouldn’t be bothering her just to recap her own ideas. “I’m guessing you’re here because there’s more to it than I thought. Don’t hold back – if I proposed something impossible, please challenge me on it.”
Nash sat down in her guest chair. “Oh, not at all. I love the idea. I proposed the same idea just before you started. I couldn’t get approval from Cole. Even though the cost would be minimal since we were just going to place them next to our customer’s equipment whenever we took out a platform. I’d even figured out a way to network the buoys so we can treat them as a system, not just as individual platforms. It could extend our range of data transmission and save us on trips.”
Stefanie nodded. “Nice. That’d be awesome. I mean, it might not save a ton of money, but it’d still be fun to see if it would help.”
“Glad you feel that way.” Nash crossed his arms. “Someone in the management chain declared it a distraction, which I heard directly from Cole.”
Stefanie shook her head in disbelief. “Research is not a distraction, it’s our jobs. Well, now that I’m here, I’ll go to bat for the team. Send me your proposal, and between you and me, we’ll figure it out, okay?” She started to visualize how she’d put it in her presentation. Whoever didn’t realize that the research team needed to actually do research was definitely going to need a presentation.
“Deal.” Nash grinned. “Thanks, boss. Nice to be working with you again.”
“It’s good to be here. And just Stef is fine.”
“You got it, boss. Stef.” Nash pushed his hair out of his eyes and went straight back into the lab.