Everyone laughed, including Cristina, who sat back down. The tension had been cut in half.
39
“Okay,” Nick said. “I had a long conversation with Jerry, my SSA.”
“SS what?” Cristina asked.
“Just another federal acronym. He’s my boss back in the Boston FBI office. Anyway, he asked for a day so he could work his sources.”
“And?” I said.
“Jerry has an old…uh, I think he called him the ‘sonofabitch from Southie.’” Nick paused, saw three confused looks. “Oh, that’s a small town just next to Boston. Kind of a rough place. So, he and his contact go way back, when both of them weren’t exactly living by all the rules, if you know what I’m sayin’.”
Part of me wanted to mock his suddenly extra-thick Yankee accent, but I refrained, staying focused on the content of what he’d said instead. “His contact. What agency does he work for?”
“Yeah,” Stan said, shifting in his chair. “I always wondered how something like this went down, possible treason by an Army soldier.”
“It’s actually pretty simple. Army Counterintelligence is a group within the US Army. They’re mandated to assess and/or neutralize any type of US internal threat, foreign threat, or international threat to the US Army or Department of Defense.”
“And I thought it was either FBI or CIA that swam in those waters,” Cristina said. “Learn something new every day, I guess.”
Nick nodded, then quickly licked his thin lips. “So, Jerry’s contact currently works in the US Army Intelligence and Security Command.”
“He moved up the food chain,” Stan said. “That’s what you’re saying, right?”
“But he used to work in the 66th Military Intelligence Brigade.” Nick let his teeth show—it wasn’t pretty. He should have kept his mouth closed.
“And that’s supposed to mean what to us, Nick? You act like we’re all working for the Feds,” Stan said.
Nick gave me a quizzical glance. I turned my palms to the ceiling. Boy, it was nice having Stan on my side.
“Okay, sorry. Army Counterintelligence Special Agents—”
“There you go with the ‘special’ tag again,” Stan said, more animated. “When are you Feds going to get over yourselves?”
Nick stared at him for a few seconds. “Are you done yet?”
Stan huffed out a breath. “Go ahead.”
“Okay, so the Counterintelligence Special Agents operate in units all over the globe. The 66th is the brigade that operates out of Europe.”
I turned both hands to the desk. “Are you saying Jerry’s contact investigated Armand?”
He nodded slowly. “Apparently, he recalled some parts of the investigation. He went off and did some research and got back to Jerry.”
A pause, which I found a bit too dramatic, considering the circumstances. Our space was absent of all noise and movement.
Nick said, “Armand’s story checks out. He—”
“Which one?”
“Which one what?” Stan asked, a look of confusion on his face.
“Did Anton Kovalchick, the KGB agent, try to get him to defect or become a spy for the Soviets?” I interjected.
Nick pursed his lips. “It’s complicated, Ivy.”
I arched my eyebrows.
“I’m going to put it all out there, but I’m just saying that it’s messy.”
Another just sayin’ comment. Must be a Brooklyn thing. Thankfully, he kept going. Because if he didn’t, I was about to jump across my desk and strangle the guy.
“Armand’s official statement to the CI agents was that Kovalchick tried to get him to defect.”
“There’s an official statement?” Stan asked.
“Not from Armand. But CI agents were able to find the woman and interrogate her.”
The so-called other woman. She was the last person I’d thought about. “What did she share?”
“A lot. She basically turned over everything she knew about KGB espionage activities against the US and its allies. How they identified and worked a target; how much time and money they were willing to invest, depending on what level of information they thought they could get from their target; as well as how they made decisions on whether to use other methods of enticement. It could be setting up a target with a girl, or kidnapping a loved one, killing a loved one. Everything was on the table.”
“Damn,” Stan said.
“I know it’s seedy, but this shit goes on in the world.”
We all exhaled. “So, how does this impact Armand’s case?” I asked.
“She also admitted that even after Kovalchick was arrested by the Italians, she was ordered, and paid, to continue the seduction.”
“It happened more than once?” Blood flooded my brain so fast I felt lightheaded.
Nick nodded. “And during that continued seduction, she tried to turn him into a Soviet spy.”
My stomach did a flip-flop.
“A fucking spy,” Cristina whispered.
Nick held up a finger. “Key point is, Armand was able to fight off the temptation. He didn’t agree to give her any classified information.”
“That was the conclusion of the investigation?”
“Yep.”
Stan shifted in his seat again, his brow furrowed. “What happened to Armand, since he didn’t tell the truth and all?”
Nick eyed each one of us. “Nothing.”
“How’s that?”
“According to Jerry’s source—”
“He wouldn’t tell you his name?” I asked.
“Nope. And I didn’t push him on it either. Anyway, Armand was too valuable. So, they made it go away.”
A stunned silence shut down everyone for a moment.
“Is that how it works in the adult government world? Because you’re so ‘valuable,’ they just pretend something didn’t happen?” Cristina asked.
I shrugged. “Apparently, it’s like professional sports.”
“And politics,” Stan said. “But please don’t get me started.”
I put my hand up. “I won’t. Guys, this isn’t la-la land. This is the real world, and—”
“The real fucked-up world,” Cristina said over me.
The Radowski cousins couldn’t help but crack up at Cristina’s timely comment. She acted like it was no big deal. Good for her to play it down, unlike Mr. and Mr. Mature.
40
As the boys released some nervous tension, my mind went back to Armand, how he’d portrayed himself all of these years, to his wife, to Zahera, to me, and I would imagine, to just about anyone he met.
When he’d shared his story about being set up by the KGB agent, he had shown a side of himself I’d never seen. He was vulnerable, aware of the pain he’d caused his wife, even though she’d died years ago—or maybe it was because she was no longer around. It was hard to tell. But to see him open up and share those painful memories showed me how much he cared for his daughter.
Now, though, after hearing the actual investigative facts from Nick, I was nothing less than stunned.
Armand’s ethical code was who he was. It was the compass by which he made every decision. But in reality, he was no different than every other politician roaming our land—ethics were to be used selectively, in a manner that only made you look the best, or even just the “least worst,” if that was even a term.
I tried to swallow, but my throat was dry, so I sipped more from my bottle of water. “Now that I feel like I need to take another shower, let’s get this out of the smut bubble and talk about the fun world of international drug trafficking.” Clasping my hands in front of me, I gestured at Nick. Then, another connecting thought zipped to the front of my mind. “Actually, before I go there, did Jerry’s source say anything about Anton Kovalchick? Remember, Armand only opened up and told me the truth—well, the half-truth—about him being set up by a KGB agent because he thought there might be a chance that Kovalchick could be connected to Zeke.”
“T
he only thing Jerry said about Kovalchick was that he dropped out of sight shortly after the Soviet Union was no more. After that, according to his source, they have nothing on him.”
“So, he died, or maybe moved to New Zealand to become a graphic artist?”
Nick shrugged. “Sure. Who knows?”
“I bet he was killed,” Stan said. “During the transition from the Soviet Union to Russia, it was mass chaos.”
“How would you know?” Cristina asked with a tone that bordered on mocking. I tried to give her the signal to turn down the snapping sarcasm, but I don’t think she saw me.
“I read countless stories about the mass chaos in the government, especially within the intelligence community.”
“He’s right,” Nick said.
Stan continued. “No one knew who was in control. Little fiefdoms were being created, some driven by intimidation, others by who paid the most. People were killed randomly without question, and there wasn’t a law enforcement presence that anyone trusted. A lot of people wondered if the country would implode.”
“Impressive.”
Stan rubbed his forehead with his prosthesis. “Thank you, Ms. Nash.”
“So we take Kovalchick out of the equation for now.” I motioned again toward Nick. “What did Alex tell you about Zeke?”
A labored sigh.
“Should I read into that?”
He pressed his lips together. “Alex has pushed and prodded the Ukrainian officials to explain why Zeke’s name is in those memos, but they won’t do it.”
“Oh come on. I mean, I know it isn’t easy, but you gotta know how to push for information.”
He chuckled. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew Alex. That being said, she can’t create an international incident. If this were another US agency, or internal FBI, she’d put the guy in a headlock.”
Now I released a quick giggle.
His eyes met mine. “You think I’m kidding?”
“I guess not.”
“Look, Alex is fully vested in this.”
“Then why aren’t we seeing results?” My temperament went south in a heartbeat, and I pushed my chair away from my desk and stood up. Turning toward the front bank of windows, I could hear the crinkle of crushed plastic and realized I was squeezing my half-empty bottle of water.
“Ivy, there is a thread of hope,” Nick said.
Nick isn’t the enemy, I told myself. I found a distraction—two old guys smoking outside the building across the street. They seemed to be tolerating each other. Without turning around, I said, “What could that be?”
“Alex has gotten to know one of the interpreters, a junior official with the Ukrainian SBU.”
“She’s banging a spy? Now this shit is real crazy,” Cristina said.
“Did she really go there?” Stan looked at me.
“Sorry. Just calling it like I see it…or hear it,” she said.
“Alex is happily…well, she’s got a serious boyfriend, a colleague of ours named Brad. He’s a good guy, even if he is eleven years younger.”
“What the fuck? She’s a cougar.” Cristina smacked the table and released an ear-bursting cackle.
I flipped around to my ECHO partner. “Can you put a muzzle on it for just a few minutes?”
She looked like a tortoise as her shoulders came up around her neck.
Then over to Nick. “So Alex has befriended this SBU official. What does she hope that will accomplish?”
He rubbed his face, taking a gander around the office while mumbling under his breath. I looked at Stan, who gave me a who knows shrug. Another few seconds passed, then Nick finally said, “Alex’s new SBU contact said the Ukrainian SBU has someone on the inside of Udovenko’s drug trafficking operation.”
“You mean, like a mole?” Stan asked.
“Yes, that’s the term I would use.”
“So, this guy is going to catch Udovenko with his hand in the baggie of cocaine and then put a pair of handcuffs on him? Then, it ends just like that?” I asked.
“Won’t be that easy, I’m sure. Never is. These drug traffickers typically have several layers of people between them and the real world; it insulates them from possible insider assassination attempts. But the way Alex framed it, I get the feeling this person has access to Udovenko, although she didn’t say that explicitly.” He scratched the peach fuzz on his chin. “By the way, I never said it was a guy. In fact, Alex made a point in describing the mole as a person, not specifically male or female. But that could just be Alex.”
“A chick?” Cristina said almost to herself.
“Moles can be chicks too,” I said.
I found myself over at the window, trying to piece together what all of this meant. It didn’t take long for me to draw a conclusion, and I twirled around to the group. “Here’s how I’d sum everything up. After hearing that Armand lied for no reason other than to protect his image, we find out that Alex, through working her global sources, discovers the Ukraine drug sniffers have a guy or girl on the inside of Udovenko’s business. On this side of the pond, Armand is killed by a pro, who covers his tracks by torching the vehicle. Meanwhile, we’ve got Zeke jet-setting all over the continent, and even when he’s in town supporting Zahera, he’s acting strangely—distant one moment, overly emotional another.”
“Hadn’t heard your thoughts about Zeke’s current behavior,” Nick said, trading glances with Stan. “Interesting.”
“But what does it give us?” I asked, my arms swinging out to my side. “We don’t know if Zeke is part of some drug-trafficking operation. We don’t know if his mere presence to Zahera could bring her harm or for that matter, could have caused Armand to be killed.” I exhaled, now crossing my arms against my chest. Then, like a meteor hurling across the sky, a thought penetrated my mind. “What if Zeke found out that his father-in-law was snooping around, about to create major problems for him? What if he had Armand killed?”
The office erupted. And I just stood there and looked out the window, as the meteor exploded into a million pieces in my gut.
41
Our meeting suddenly sounded like something I’d seen during a news cut of English Parliament members yelling and screaming at each other. Not that Stan, Nick, and Cristina were arguing, per se. Voices were at elevated levels. There was lots of finger-pointing and plenty of opinions and accusations.
All because I opened my mouth and dropped a one-liner on them that could stop the presses of the National Enquirer. But as much as I wished my question was baseless and nothing more than a shock statement, I couldn’t dismiss the awful notion from my mind.
We’d taken a ten-minute break, allowing everyone to cool off and, in the case of Stan, use the restroom. Cristina and Nick had just walked into the front area without uttering a word, their faces void of expression. We were, again, waiting on Stan to join us.
The toilet flushed, and the three of us cracked smiles, dialing back some of the tension. Stan joined us a moment later, walking in with some spirit in his step.
“You’re moving like a thin man, I’ll give you that much,” Nick said.
“Just wait, cuz. I’ve got you in my sights.” Stan shifted his two fingers from his eyes to Nick, who chuckled. “Okay, the fake kidnappings…” Stan said, pulling out his notebook.
“Hold on,” Nick said. “We can’t just leave Ivy’s shock-jock comment lingering. While it borders on outrageous, it’s a theory that shouldn’t be ignored.”
“Thank you,” I said, relieved that someone was truly hearing my concerns. “But what can you do with it?”
“Well, Stan and I discussed the possibility, or even the likelihood, of sharing this with our leadership and getting approval to formally create a joint task force.”
A bureaucratic response if I’d ever heard one. I grabbed a pen and started clicking it to keep myself occupied and not firing off a zinger.
“You rolled your eyes,” Stan said.
“No, that was me,” Cristina said, raising
a hand.
“I was looking at Ivy.”
“Okay, I might have rolled my eyes slightly. I’m just tired of road block after road block.”
Stan grabbed the arms of the chair to pull himself forward, but his prosthesis slipped, and he dropped a foot before regaining his balance. We all stayed mute, and he ignored it. “A joint task force will put eyes on this, Ivy. We’ll get more resources. It won’t just be me investigating Armand’s death.”
Nick raised a hand. “It’s not like Zeke isn’t on our radar, but we haven’t formally put plans into place. On top of that, we won’t have to conduct conversations in a whisper; we can get everything out in the open. We can start to map out Zeke’s digital footprint. You said he was in Canada twice, and then Mexico. We can verify that to hopefully figure out where he went, and whom he might have met with. You get the picture.”
It sounded intriguing, but it also sounded agonizingly slow. A couple of thoughts came to mind on how I might want to supplement their effort, but I knew I couldn’t just blurt it out. They’d shoot me down in a nanosecond. “How long until your big machine is up and moving?”
“I hear sarcasm in there, but I get it. The government isn’t exactly agile. Still, though, Stan and I are here, brainstorming with you guys, which has been our best source of information and possible theories. He and I will continue working this even as we wait for the additional resources to show up.”
“If you get approval for this joint task force.”
Both cousins tilted their heads, their palms facing upward. Well, three palms and a prosthesis.
“Okay, I don’t mean to be a doubter, but something tells me we don’t have four or five days to ramp this up.”
“We’ll do the best we can,” Nick said with a bit of extra zeal.
I blew out a breath, then rubbed my temples for a moment. “I know you and Stan are invested in this. I appreciate everything you’ve done. Honestly.” I sat back in my chair, folded my arms across my chest. “I think my nerves are on edge, worried about Zahera, upset about seeing her father killed in front of my eyes. And knowing Zeke could be part of some larger drug-trafficking cartel, wondering about his role in all of this. I’m about to blow.”
The Ivy Nash Thrillers: Books 4-6: Redemption Thriller Series 10-12 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set) Page 43