by Lea Hart
“That hot-blonde is Lucky Santorini.”
Turning around, the director gazed at Lucky and let out a laugh. “I didn’t picture the Director of Intelligence from SAI to be quite so beautiful…and young. How the hell old is she?”
“Thirty, Simon, and your last statement pretty much makes your whole speech pointless.” No one should be admiring Lucky’s looks except him and certainly not the director, of all people. “Commenting on a woman’s looks is unacceptable, and you know it.”
When Simon raised an eyebrow and didn’t respond, Sam knew he had taken it as far as he could without putting his job in jeopardy. “Are we going to talk about the new crew that’s shown up or is there more hand-slapping that needs to be done?”
“I’ve given you my semi-annual speech, so we can move on.”
“Thank God because I’d like to focus on the shit that is showing up in the city and figure out a way to take down the group that’s responsible.”
“Do you think it’s the Russians or the Albanians that are responsible for the deadly heroin that’s flowing through the dealers’ hands?”
“I’m guessing it’s the Russians because Yolkin’s new crew is the only thing that’s changed in the last year. The players in the Albanian Fis are the same, and the Italian mobs don’t deal in heroin.”
“You said something the other day about Vazov having a connection with Yolkin; do you have any intel to back it up or is it just a hunch?”
“All I have right now is some unrefined data that suggests the two have been in communication almost daily for the last two months. Until I get the authorization to dig further, I won’t know what that communication means.”
“Vazov lives in Brussels, rarely comes to the United States, and has always focused his attention on money laundering and human trafficking. So, him having a connection with Yolkin doesn’t make any sense.”
“Which is why I asked for the authorization to invest resources in finding out why. Maybe he saw Belikov go down back in June and recognized a vacuum that needed to be filled. He may be sponsoring the group and nothing more, but the raw intel suggests he’s involved in some way.”
“The chances of us getting our hands on one of the ten most wanted men are very small, but that doesn’t mean we’re not going to try.”
“Oh, we’re going to do a lot more than try, sir. Some fucking way, we’re going to succeed.” Sam watched the man who Lucky had kissed earlier stalk toward the exit and give him a smug smile as he passed. Fucker, Sam thought.
“Careful,” Simon said as the man passed. “Better have a strategy on how you’re going to get rid of the body before you put the plan into motion.”
Sam turned and let out a loud laugh and leaned forward. “Why do you bother giving me a lecture if you’re going to say shit like that?”
“I’d like you to cover my ass and tell my superiors that I’ve properly chastised you.” He gave a confident grin and then looked around the room with satisfaction. “I can say with all honesty that I delivered perhaps one of the best ass-chapping speeches on record. What I will leave out, though, is that you barely paid an ounce of attention.”
Sam shook his head and attempted to finish the meeting with some of his dignity and professional reputation intact. “My gut is telling me is that Anton Vazov has dipped his hand in Yolkin’s group, and I hope you’ll seriously consider the request I’ve submitted.”
“I’ll think about it and let you know in the next couple of days. I’ve got to weigh the resources of the office against the demands, and I need to evaluate where Yolkin and Vazov fit in.”
“If Vazov has made an alliance with Yolkin and it goes beyond money laundering and includes drugs, then I’m praying you give me the okay sooner as opposed to later.”
“Hell of a jump, Barton. I love the idea that we can take some the people down who are responsible for the shit that’s killing people, but that’s a lot of dots to connect, and I don’t think we’re close.”
“Yet,” Sam responded.
“Yet,” Simon repeated. “You know as well as I do that it takes years to build a case that will result in an indictment, and we have no reach inside the current group that’s operating in the city. It’s like a damn snake with a hundred heads, and we have no idea which one is controlling the operation.”
“What if we came at it from another angle? The old methods of infiltrating these organizations are not in keeping with the times, and we have to tip this shit on its head if we have any hope of getting ahead of the operators.”
“The FBI does not tip shit on its head, though I like where you’re heading with the creative thinking. Unfortunately, creative thinking is not a hallmark of our particular branch of the government.”
“I’m well aware of that, sir.”
Letting out an exasperated breath, Simon leaned forward and spoke quietly, “I understand your frustration, and this job isn’t for everyone. I value you, Sam, but I know this may not be the best place for your specific set of skills.” Holding up his hand, he shook his head. “Also, you need to warn Ms. Lucky Santorini away from continuing her vigilante campaign against Vazov. Butler from the Intelligence Department has suggested she’s been on our network.” Straightening his tie, he looked around the room and frowned. “I haven’t seen any evidence yet, but if they present it to me, then I’ll have to act. I haven’t pursued it due to how SAI helped us with the Belikov takedown, but Lucky is skating a thin line.”
Sam sat back and nodded. “Noted.”
“I want to keep a good working relationship with SAI, and slapping the hand of their Director of Intelligence is going to make that difficult. Take care of it, Sam, so I don’t have to.” Simon drained his glass and then stood up. “Have a good evening, Agent Barton.” He glanced over his shoulder and then back at Sam. “I would expect any agent that worked for me to take full advantage of having an opportunity to speak with a person of interest without any distraction.” He clapped Sam on the shoulder and then took his leave.
Sam watched his boss depart and wondered how in the hell he was going to deliver the message without invoking more of Lucky’s ire. The last thing he wanted to do was piss her off more than he already had, but ignoring the director’s subtle hints wouldn’t do Lucky a bit of good.
Turning back around, he saw Lucky’s legs and knew he had no choice, and the best he could hope for was that at some point she would appreciate it. He stood, straightened his tie, and moved in her direction. At least this time, she couldn’t avoid him, and he finally had the opening he needed.
One way or another, they were going to speak and, as far as he was concerned, that was just the beginning.
CHAPTER THREE
Two perfectly polished brown brogues came into view, and Lucky silently cursed herself for not making her escape earlier. Looking up slowly, she saw Sam Barton’s dazzling smile and sighed. “Hey, Sam.”
“Lucky.”
“What brings you to the Athletic Club?” Collecting her things, she shoved them into her bag and stood. Maybe this could be a two-minute conversation and she could get away quickly.
“I had my semi-annual meeting with my boss where I get reminded of the rules and regulations.” He looked her up and down and grinned. “What about you…date?”
“Not any of your business.” Stepping around him, she saw his hand move to her arm. “What?”
“Let me take you to dinner.”
“No, thanks, lots to do at work, no time.”
“You had time to kiss the guy who was here earlier, so I think you can spare some time to have a meal with me.”
“Why, Sam?”
“Why not?”
“You and I don’t get along, and I don’t have the energy to bicker.”
“The last thing I want to do is bicker, and I promise to be on my best behavior.”
Looking into his guileless expression, she realized he believed the drivel that was coming out of his mouth. “I don’t think so.”
“One meal together and then I’ll leave you alone.” He picked up her hand and ran his finger over the rings that covered her left hand. “I have some intel, and we should talk.”
“No, thanks, I’m still coughing up water from the last time you left me to drown.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“After we worked together on Belikov and Firtash, your friends at the FBI were crawling all over my network for weeks. It took an amazing amount of control for me not to send a nice troll back with every attempted hack your sorry techs attempted.”
“The FBI doesn’t need to hack into SAI, so perhaps it wasn’t them.” Sam looked from side to side and then cupped her elbow. “I’m here to protect you.”
Seeing his serious expression made her swallow the nasty zinger she was about to deliver. “From what?”
“According to my boss, you need to back off of Vazov and stay out of the FBI network.”
Looking down at her shoes, she shook her head and felt her throat clog up. Hating that emotion was getting the best of her, she took a deep breath and then looked up. “I can’t let Vazov go.” She pushed her hair behind her ear and squared her shoulders. “And I would never crawl into the Intelligence Branch’s network because there are far better sources of intel and, even if I did, no one would know I was ever there.”
“Well, someone thinks you’ve been visiting.” He stepped closer and spoke quietly, “Lucky, you have to trust that I’m going to take Vazov down.”
When she saw Sam’s sincerity, the animosity that had been her constant companion seemed to lessen its iron grip. “I appreciate the sentiment, but the FBI has lots of priorities, and a man based in Brussels isn’t one of them.”
“Let’s grab something to eat and figure out where our mutual interests lie and see if we can help one another out.”
“I’m not backing off, Sam.”
“If you don’t want the full weight of the FBI’s anger slamming down on your head, then you’re going to have to.”
“I’ve not been inside the FBI’s network since I was a teenager, so you back the hell off and tell your friends if they try and hack into my servers again, I’ll send back a gift. I don’t have time to waste on their sorry attempts because I’ve got more work than my team can handle.”
“Let’s not discuss this in the middle of the lobby and go to the Game Room and grab something to eat.”
Looking around the room, she debated with herself and then reluctantly decided to go. She might as well see what he had to say. “Fine.”
“See, Lucky, that wasn’t so hard.”
“Yes, it was,” she muttered in response.
The sexy smile he threw her was filled with more satisfaction than she was ready for and she felt like taking back her acceptance. Deciding it wasn’t in her in her best interest, she kept her mouth shut and followed him out of the lobby.
As they walked side by side toward the elevator, she firmed her resolve not to get into a snit and take any of his comments personally. After all, this was nothing more than two business acquaintances catching up, and as long as she focused on that and nothing else, she should come out of it unscathed.
Lucky stepped into the bar and felt Sam put his hand on her lower back. Why in the hell was he so touchy-feely? He’d never been that way before, and she wondered if there was some ancient Cro-Magnon thing going on where he saw her kiss someone and then decided he was interested too.
Whatever, she wasn’t going to make a big deal about it because she wanted to keep things out of the personal realm and strictly in the professional one. “Bar or table?”
“Let’s grab some seats at the bar since all the tables are communal. The last thing we need is for someone to interrupt us.”
Seeing two on the corner, she headed toward them and hopped on one. Slipping her bag on the hook under the bar, she noticed Sam do a little hop-step as he sat himself down. Must be because of his prosthetic.
Before she could say anything, the bartender came by, so she glanced at the menu briefly, then decided to stick with her usual favorites. “I’ll have an old-fashioned and the Heffelfinger hot dog with a side of onion rings.” Sam gave her an approving smile and she rolled her eyes in response. Why he thought she cared a bit about his opinion was mind-boggling.
“I’ll have the Metropolitan Flywheel Pilsner and a hot dog with a side of fries.”
Once the bartender left, Lucky turned in her chair. “Why does the FBI care what I do in my free time and why do they think it’s their business?”
“Not sure.” Leaning his elbows against the bar, he shrugged. “Simon didn’t give me any details that I haven’t given you. All he gave me was a friendly warning to pass on to you, and I have no intel as to why that’s the case. He told me he enjoys the mutually beneficial relationship that we share and doesn’t want to see it end.” Holding up his hand, he shrugged. “I wish I had more.”
Taking a deep breath, she shook her head, “It doesn’t make any sense because all the research I’ve done on the Dark Web has employed anonymizing software and encryption that completely blocks my identity.”
“You’ve just used a bunch of terms that I’m only vaguely familiar with, so I can’t answer your questions. But know that once I have the intel, I’ll share it with you.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m never going to let anything bad happen to you and if someone is spreading false info, then I’ll end it. Also, we’re an unbeatable team, and I’d like that to not end because your work was the key to taking Belikov down.”
“Why were you such an ass, then?”
“Honestly?”
“No, tell me a lie so we can waste one another’s time.”
Throwing his head back, he let out a laugh. “I missed you, Lucky. Why didn’t you ever return one of my phone calls?”
“Answer my question, Sam. You insulted me almost daily—why?”
He scrubbed his hand down his face and then looked at the bottles behind the bar. “Jealousy and insecurity.”
The bartender delivered their drinks and Lucky lifted her glass and took a healthy sip, and when that didn’t make his statement understandable, she took another one. “Hard to believe, Sam. You’re a damn war hero, as well as a former star of HRT. Why in the hell would you be jealous of me?”
“Because you’re smart, fearless, and take absolutely no bullshit.”
“Which pretty much makes me your dream girl, right?” Setting down her glass, she snorted in disbelief. The idea of being anything other than a nightmare to Sam was inconceivable. Feeling his hand on her arm, she looked up and saw a pained look in his eyes. “What?”
“You are my dream girl, and I poked at you so you wouldn’t get close and figure out that I’m nowhere near good enough for you.”
Their food was delivered, and Lucky stared down at the plank that her hot dog and onion rings were resting on and decided that Sam was pulling her leg. No way was he insecure. He was physically perfect, smart as hell, and a damn fearless operator. He was also arrogant and short-tempered. “I got over my crush a long time ago, Sam, and there’s no way to resurrect it, so let’s just be professional acquaintances and leave it at that.”
“I totally screwed up, Lucky, but that doesn’t mean I can’t fix it, and I ask that you keep an open mind.”
“Let’s just talk about Vazov and see where our mutual interests might intersect.”
“I’ll leave it for now, but know that I’m going to circle back to us at some point.”
Lifting an onion ring, she pointed it at him. “You can circle yourself silly, doesn’t mean that I’ll be there.”
He lifted a fry and tapped it against her onion ring. “Guess we’ll see about that.” He shoved the fry into his mouth and then winked.
“Yes, we will,” she said quietly. He could think whatever he wanted; didn’t mean a thing to her. The Sam Barton crush had ended long ago, and there wasn’t a thing that was going to bring it back to life.
Stubbornness. She had it in spades.
CHAPTER FOUR
Wednesday, September 6th
Sam sat in the conference room and looked at the initial raw information the Intelligence Branch had acquired and felt like his suspicions about Vazov were right on. There were enough communication records between Anton Vazov and Nikolai Yolkin to suggest they were working together. And if they were, then it made Yolkin’s rapid rise to power more understandable. Up until Sergey Belikov’s death, Yolkin had been nothing more than a small-time player in the organized crime scene, and the only way he would’ve risen was if he had help, and Anton Vazov appeared to be that help.
Not only had Yolkin managed to sweep up Belikov’s shestyorkas, he also folded the bratoks into the operation as well, which meant he had enough boots on the ground to run a successful operation and grow rapidly.
Leaning back in his chair, he turned toward the window and studied the busy causeway that ran in front of the building. If the FBI wanted to be successful in going after this new group, then it was going to take some unorthodox methods to achieve it. Which his boss pointed out last night wasn’t really an option.
He tapped his hand on his leg, and decided the biggest hurdle in front of them was how long the intelligence gathering process took. If he could somehow circumvent it or shorten it in any way, then they might have a chance at ending the Bratva dominance before the end of time. Unfortunately, the bureau was limited by how quickly they could act because they followed every rule of law and, while he appreciated it, he was also frustrated by it. Which is why his dark heart wanted to work with Lucky again, at least that was the story he was telling himself.
Before he could get too wrapped up in his thoughts, Owen walked in and slapped down his tablet and took a seat. “We’ve got the full backing of Simon on this one. We just got approval to deploy physical surveillance specialists, and we’ve also got three intelligence analysists assigned to the case.” Leaning back, Owen ran his hand over his shaved head and grinned. “Whatever you told him last night must’ve worked because when I walked in this morning, every request that I’d submitted was approved.”