by Lea Hart
“Makes sense.” Looking down into the cone, he saw that they’d eaten everything. “Do you want another order, or are you good?”
Lucky wiped her mouth with a napkin, then shook her head. “I’m full. We better take a walk so I can make some room for lunch.”
“The Grand Place isn’t that far, so if you want to do some laps around the square a couple of times, then we can.”
“Might have to.”
He got rid of the trash and then took the wet wipe Lucky handed him. “You seem to have everything inside that bag.”
“I do. We could probably survive with the contents for three days if we had to.”
“So, it’s more of a bug-out bag than a purse.”
“Probably.” She took his hand and pulled him off the sidewalk. “The next adventure is waiting.”
As he followed her, his heart swelled with emotion because she was finally taking his hand, and he decided it was an indication that what he’d been working toward was within reach. Maybe what he’d said earlier had opened the door and now all they had to do was walk through it.
***
They strolled along a narrow side alley called Rue des Harengs and entered the Grand Place. “Wow, the pictures don’t do it justice,” Lucky said as she looked up at the fifteenth-century city hall.
“It feels like we're on the set of a James Bond movie.”
Looking around, she noticed the dramatic facades of the buildings with their baroque gables, gilded statues, and elaborate guilds. “It would have to be a night scene where he roars across the cobblestone streets in his…what kind of car does he drive?”
Slapping his hand on his chest, Sam took a step back. “And you call yourself an educated woman.”
“It starts with an A, I know that much.”
“Aston Martin.”
Snapping her fingers, she smiled. “Of course.”
“It’s clear I’m going to have to be responsible for your car education.”
“It won’t be necessary because I don’t find them interesting. As far as I’m concerned, all they have to do is get you from place to place.”
“I guess I won’t have to worry about keeping you in the latest car, then.”
Ignoring the comment, she started in the direction of the shops and wondered why he thought he had to keep her in anything. Maybe it was a guy thing and she should just ignore it. “Should we get a beer and see if the monks live up to their reputation?”
“Sure, is there someplace you had in mind or should walk around and find one that looks interesting?”
“Let’s look around.” As they made their way through the throng of people, Lucky felt Sam’s firm grip on her hand and decided she enjoyed the way he wanted to protect her. Maybe all the man things he wanted to do wouldn’t be so bad after all. Sighing silently, she thought about what he’d done when they’d woken up and knew his man-ways were becoming addictive.
“What about that one?” Sam said as they walked down a side alley. “It’s called Brasserie l’ Ommengang.”
“It looks lovely, but I was hoping for something a little more casual.” Looking through the windows, she saw white tablecloths and wine glasses on the tables.
“Okay, let’s keep going.” They wandered farther and he pointed to another one. “That looks like a great place, La Brouette Tavern.”
“Perfect.” Following him past the outdoor patio, they walked in and were immediately welcomed by the warm wood interior. Some kegs lined the back of the bar and they were painted with cartoonish figures of monks. Sam grabbed them a table next to the window and, before she knew it, they had glasses of beer in front of them. “What am I drinking?”
“It’s their most popular pilsner.”
“I like it.”
“Thought you might.” He looked at the menu and then took her hand. “Should we have the things the city is famous for?”
“Yes, we have to try the mussels, Flemish stew, and shrimp croquettes.”
“That’s exactly what I was going to order.”
“You seem to be good at choosing food, so I’m going to let you do it for a while and I can just be surprised.”
“Happy to,” he replied as he looked around the restaurant. “Is this what you had in mind?”
Looking around, she nodded. “Absolutely, the open fire, old chandeliers, and waiters in uniform is what I was hoping to find when we came out today.”
“What else should we try and visit?”
“I thought you might like to see the Royal Museum of the Army. It doesn’t seem like it’s very far.”
“I’m not going to drag you to see that; tell me what you want to do.”
“I don’t have any agenda other than what we’ve just done. I want to get to know you, Sam, and discover what interests you.”
“You interest me, Lucky.”
“That’s just your body talking.” Looking out the window, she watched the people pass by. “Start at the beginning. What made you decide to join the army after college?”
“I couldn’t think of anything else to do that would provide the challenge I was looking for. When I received my degree in criminology, the idea of joining the police department didn’t interest me, so when I read about the Rangers, I decided to see if I could qualify.”
“What is it that appealed to you about the armed forces other than the excitement factor?”
“The idea of protecting and serving my country had always been in the back of my mind and, when I graduated, I knew it was time.”
“Were you always a protector or did that develop later?”
“I’m the oldest brother, so I’d say through circumstances I took on the role. We’re all a year and a half apart, so the three of us were always close. My youngest brother, Seth, is on the autism spectrum, so Steve, my middle brother and I always made sure he was okay and no one was bothering him.”
“Is Seth the engineer at Boeing?”
“Yes, he’s considered high functioning on the spectrum and has an intellect that puts him in the genius range.”
“What’s the difference between someone who is high-functioning and someone who has Asperger’s?”
“According to my mom, not much. Seth had a language delay and didn’t start speaking until he was four or five and, apparently, that’s not how Asperger’s presents in early childhood.”
“I’ve worked with quite a few people who were on the spectrum and I never understood the difference.”
“It makes sense that anything to do with computers would be appealing to someone who falls on the spectrum. It offers endless puzzles, but has specific answers and rules that govern it.”
“That’s a great description. So, does your brother live independently or with your parents?”
“He’s got his own place a couple of miles from my parents and is, for the most part, a fully functioning adult. He has an aide that comes in weekly and they go over things to make sure he’s got everything under control. My mom says he likes it a lot better than having her tell him what to do, and the coach makes him feel like he’s hanging out with a peer and not being babied.”
“There are quite a few companies in Silicon Valley that hire people with special needs and have a program to support them as they move through their workday.”
“Boeing has a very small one and Seth was recruited out of college to join them. He’s incredibly intelligent and when he’s focused on something, he won’t quit until he's come up with an answer. Essentially, he’s the best employee in the world because he comes in and works and doesn’t get distracted by socializing. In fact, they are required to attend group lunches a couple times a week and he always complains because he’d rather be sitting outside eating by himself and reading or playing a game on his phone.”
“It seems your protectiveness and compassion developed as a result of your brother.”
“Absolutely. I like to say that having Seth as a brother has allowed Steve and me to become who we were supposed to be. Twenty
years ago, there wasn’t the awareness or acceptance that there is today, and it wasn’t easy for him in school or life. My mom fought for him at every turn and she’s one of the most popular speakers on advocating for your special needs child. She’ll tell you that without Seth, she might not have had a career.”
The waiter approached, and Sam ordered for them and, as she listened to him speak in French, she realized her walls had crumbled entirely. He’d made his way in and now all she had to do was accept it because what he’d said earlier about her being the other half of his soul was true for her as well.
How she was going to handle it was anyone’s guess.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Monday, September 25th
Lucky walked next to Grif and wondered why he was quiet. He’d already had several cups of coffee along with two chocolate croissants, so his caffeine and sugar levels were optimal. “What did you do yesterday?”
“Pub crawl with a couple of friends.”
“Anyone I know in the group?”
“Not sure, we haven’t worked together for a couple of years, so I haven’t kept track of where our friend groups cross.”
“When you’re done with the attitude, let me know.” Hearing him let out a long sigh, she looked up and noticed his face was scrunched up. “Just get it out, Grif, so we can move on.”
“I’m finding the fact that you’ve found love a little hard to deal with. I know we’ll never make one another happy long-term, but seeing you fall in love is not something I’m enjoying.”
She took his hand and squeezed it. “I understand. I’d probably have similar feelings if our situations were reversed.”
“At least Sam is a good guy.”
“You think so?”
Grif stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and lifted his sunglasses off his face. “Do you have questions about that?”
Looking down, she shook her head. “No, it’s just that I’m in that drunk first phase of love and I’m not sure my judgment can be trusted. Not that it matters because I’m not letting him go.”
“You’ve known the guy for a year and worked together, so I think the amount of data you’ve got should be giving you a firm answer either way.”
“I know, it’s just my cynicism fighting my optimism and nothing more. In a way, I’m afraid it’s too good to be true and his perfect behavior isn’t going to last.”
“You’ve already seen him be an ass, so you know it won’t. But maybe the positive will balance out the negative and you’ll end up with something you can live with.”
“That’s true and, as far as I can tell, he’s the one for me, despite the fact he’s domineering and bossy…or maybe it’s the reason we work. He doesn’t back down and let me run the show like I’ve always done, and I guess that’s what I’ve been waiting for. He accepts me as I am, and I think it’s allowed me to open up and be myself without feeling like I have to prove my worth.”
“I think he’s made you soft, and something in him has inspired you to put your swords down and drain the moat. As far as I can tell, that’s not something to take lightly.”
“You’re right, Grif, because my soft gooey center isn’t as scared of light as it used to be.”
They turned the corner and approached the glass building that housed the bank and she looked up. “Thank you, I know that wasn’t an easy conversation.”
“Ultimately, I want you to be happy and if that stupid fed is the one to do it, then I better get over myself and just accept it.”
“I’m trying to do the same thing because, believe me, this falling in love business isn’t for the faint of heart. As exciting as this is, it’s also the scariest thing I’ve ever faced, and accepting what’s happening hasn’t been easy.”
“I don’t think it’s supposed to be, but it’s probably worth it since he’s likely your only shot at happiness.”
Groaning, she opened the glass door and held it while Grif walked past her. “And you were doing so well.”
He slung his arm over her shoulder and pressed the button for the elevator. “Let’s go finish securing the system and see if we can figure out if Wouter is in cahoots with the Bratva or just a greedy banker.”
“Maybe he started out with good intentions and then was seduced by the profit he would make from all the transactions flowing through his bank.” They stepped into the elevator and were on the third floor within a minute and were soon ensconced inside the IT room.
“Possible,” Grif answered as he set his bag down.
“Or is he being threatened and has no choice but to comply?”
“The program I wrote to cull all the transactions and track them tells me he’s probably a greedy businessman who didn’t realize the risk he was taking by doing business with Vazov.”
“Sam told me that Vazov has his own bank, so why would he need another to backwash his funds through? If he can illegally transmit money without involving anyone else, then why is he using Wouter?”
“Maybe the sheer volume of transactions is too much for one bank to handle.”
“How many transactions are running through Societe Generale now?”
Rolling his chair forward, he pulled up a screen and whistled. “He’s already initiated over five hundred today.”
“Bingo,” Lucky said as she picked up her phone and texted Sam the information.
“What does it mean?” Grif asked as he scrolled through the spreadsheet that was populating.
“I have no idea because my knowledge of how to launder money is about zero, but that many transactions have to mean something.”
“Unfortunately, my money laundering know-how is non-existent too, so I’ll be absolutely no help.”
She checked her phone to make sure the text went through and when she saw that it had, she grabbed a chair. “I let Sam know what’s going on, so if it comes up as a red flag, he’ll let us know.”
“Doesn’t seem like it’s going to be a typical Monday.”
“Yeah, I’d have to agree with you.” Leaning back in her chair, she studied the ceiling and wondered what they were in for.
***
Sam and Owen sat in the conference room of the legat office in the embassy and continued to analyze the data that the team in Brussels had put together on Vazov to see if what they produced in the states matched up. In theory, they were all supposed to be looking at the same information, as it was the Intelligence’s Branch responsibility to integrate intel across the organization. But as with most things, practice didn’t always follow theory.
There were, for example, electronic transmissions, which were often referred to as signals intelligence that had been collected from local satellites that indicated regular communication between Vazov and Yolkin had been going on for more than a year. He’d never seen it in the U.S. database and he wondered how the oversight had occurred.
Digging into it, he realized there had to be a connection between the two that they had yet to identify. Julia hadn’t come up with anything, but he bet if Lucky got on it, she could. After all, she was the one who had found Firtash’s connection last spring and that had made cracking the case possible.
Theo walked in, took a seat, and slid two thick reports across the table. “That’s Europol's latest intelligence on the most active and lethal pakhans operating today. As you both know, the organization is considered the hub of European criminal information and, for a fairly new organization, they do a decent job. As far as I can tell, there aren't any surprises and the theories we’ve been throwing around regarding Vazov are right on.”
Owen stood, walked over to the window, and crossed his arms. “What will it take to have enough information to bring the man in? We all know he’s doing a ton of nasty shit and we’re in possession of a decent amount of evidence to tie him to all sorts of crimes. How big does the smoking gun have to be before we take action?”
“We’re here at the pleasure of our host nation and, so far, we haven’t found the cooperation we need to make a mo
ve. It’s almost like they want us to have pictures of him in the middle of Grand Place selling armaments to the KLA before they’ll authorize a joint op to take him down,” Theo replied as he tapped his fingers on the table.
Sam sat up and knocked his knuckles on the table. “Maybe that’s our move. Lucky told me she thought she found Vazov’s kassir running a side hustle on the Dark Web. If, in fact, that’s true, why don’t we run him down and see if we can bring the rats out into the light of day?”
“As appealing as that is, we don’t want the bookkeeper unless we can turn him and get intel. We want Vazov tied to something that will not allow him to make bail when he’s brought in,” Theo said as he crossed his arms.
Owen returned to the table and took a seat. “When the intel comes in and the op is authorized by all the appropriate parties, will the Federal Police allow HRT to run a joint operation?”
Theo nodded as he checked his phone. “We have an agreement that allows us to work with our counterparts in making the arrests. As accomplished as the Federal Police are, they’re no match for Tier One operators.” He glanced over at Sam and shrugged. “We all know the capability of HRT, and if someone like Vazov is going to be captured and arrested, it makes sense to bring in the very best to make sure nothing goes wrong.”
Sam looked down at his tablet and, though he felt the usual twinge of regret that he was no longer on the team, it didn’t steal his breath as it had in the past. There was no hot knife plunging into his heart at the thought of missing out on the takedown, and no rapid increase in his heartbeat. In fact, he felt incredibly calm and…happy.
Such an inane word for such a tremendous emotion.
But there it was, he was happy with his life and didn’t want to change much about where it was headed. The only thing he’d like to see occur in the next couple of weeks was for Lucky to let down the last of her barriers and admit how she felt.
She was his love story and he wanted her to feel the same way about him because the last three weeks they’d spent together had him writing her into everything he did, everything he saw, and every dream he had for the future. The fact that his future was potentially filled with an enormous amount of happiness told him the end of his career on the front lines wasn’t the end of him.