A victorious smile curved her lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter Ten
Score!
THE UNFINISHED ANALYSIS ON PAUL FABER, the MDS employee Trevor had met with, had taunted Cassandra for days. She had wanted to tackle it while it was still fresh in her memory.
After Trevor had left, she’d huddled at her computer, reviewing the video stream captured on the day of the meeting and the notes of the impressions she had jotted down. She reaffirmed her earlier conclusions that there was nothing there to be concerned about.
Cassandra stretched her arms above her head and shook them out to get the circulation moving again. The prickling of the restored blood flow felt as good as finishing everything she had wanted to accomplish that morning.
Cassandra eased back in her chair and rested her feet on the desk while she took a breather. She glanced at the clock. Trevor had been gone a couple of hours, and she still needed to tackle the review of the files George had sent during their last conversation.
A soft smile caressed her lips as she remembered the frown on Trevor’s face as he had left—one she always found so damn sexy. If it was still on his face when he returned she would be compelled to do something about it. Vivid images of how she could do just that bombarded her and her face grew warm as a flush crept into her cheeks. Focus, Cassie.
Cassandra exhaled a deep breath as she dropped her feet from the desk and dove back into the review of the transcripts. As she read through Jennifer’s work her heart rate increased and pounded in apprehension. She could see why George’s boxers were in a bunch. It was always a bad thing when Russians were involved. Her days with the CIA had been filled with tidbits of information that could make one’s skin crawl.
As she came across names, she took notes and, once finished, began the intelligence work—collecting any pertinent information on all of the names pulled from the transcript as well as the names of persons of interest linked to the phone number in question. Thanks to an anonymous proxy server and a sweet little program Trevor had created to reset and mask their IP address at regular intervals, they were able to do all their poking without being traced.
Confident they were safe, she entered the first few names from her list—Shapko and Pushkar—names mentioned several times in the conversation between Tomlin and the caller.
When No data returned displayed on the screen for both, Cassandra rubbed her face, put her hair back into a ponytail, and tapped her fingers on the keyboard impatiently while staring at the screen. The names weren’t flagged in any of the intelligence databases. They might be small fish. She crossed them off the list, moving onto the actual caller himself—Sergei Deminov.
Her fingers jumped across the keys as she entered the letters into the search program. With a tap of her pinky, she initiated the scan. While it ran, she toggled back to the transcript.
Within minutes, her eyes were caught by the application flashing on the taskbar. Toggling back to it, Cassandra skimmed the report generated and grinned—the first real one of the morning.
Sergei Deminov was a very naughty boy—someone Trevor would definitely be interested in, based on his activities and connections.
A satisfied smile spread across her lips. Finally! A real freaking lead. She returned her attention to the screen and skimmed a few more lines of text, hitting on another name: Vladimir Mikhailov. Excitement gripped her as she paged back through her notes. Mikhailov had been mentioned several times and looked promising. The corner of Cassandra’s mouth quirked. The name reminded her of the movie The Saint and the lead character’s adventure in Russia. Damn. I love that movie. It has to be a sign.
She typed Mikhailov into the search field; once the search initiated, it didn’t take long for the screen to be populated with details about the man himself. This just might make Trevor’s day. She copied the information on both Deminov and Mikhailov to the project file and saved it.
Satisfied, she left the office and ran down the flight of stairs to the kitchen. She was starving to the point that her hands were starting to look tasty. She had her head stuck in the fridge looking for something to eat when she heard the footsteps. Anticipation sent her pulse racing: Trevor was finally back.
Cassandra’s name died on his lips as he stepped into the kitchen and found her standing by the open fridge. “No need to search, love. Brought you something.”
“Perfect timing. I’m starved!”
He placed the bags and cup holder on the counter and handed her the cup with the coffee. He brought his own closer to his nose and inhaled the delicious Earl Grey scent before taking a first sip. “Ambrosia.”
Watching as Cassandra closed her eyes and did the same with her Arabian blend, he pulled a plate from the cabinet and set the pastries on it so she could choose her poison.
Trevor’s groin clenched when a look of intense concentration overtook her face and her tongue moistened her lower lip. His grin widened when she finally chose a strawberry-filled Danish and took a slow bite out of it.
“Hmm. Really good,” she moaned, wiping some of the filling from her chin and licking her fingers.
His cock hardened instantly. He smiled to himself, shaking his head as he pressed his hand against the growing bulge constrained by his jeans to ease the ache.
He was tempted to throw her over his shoulder and run for their room, but they couldn’t afford to spend the rest of the day in bed having fun. There was too much on the line. Plus, Jessie could show up any time. He propped his hip against the counter and continued to watch as she delighted herself with his peace offering.
Cassandra nodded at the boxes on the counter and mumbled while chewing the last bite, “So, what do you have there?”
“I stopped by Aidan’s shop and picked up the micro cameras I’d ordered last month. The other package is from your dad. The courier was about to knock when I got to the door. No idea what it is.”
After brushing the pastry crumbs from her hands, she picked up the package, weighing it. “It’s really light.” She pulled a sharp knife from the drawer and cut through the packing tape. “He didn’t mention he was sending me anything,” she commented, setting the knife aside and opening the box. From it she pulled a carefully wrapped intricate pewter picture frame.
Curious, Trevor looked over her shoulder at the happy couple smiling in the wedding picture. He recognized Robert immediately, so the woman could only be Cecilia, Cassandra’s mom. The first thing that struck him was that Cassandra was the spitting image of her mother. The second was how quiet she became after unwrapping the frame.
Sensing was something off, he set his cup on the counter and hugged her from behind. She exhaled a choppy breath and her pulse beat rapidly as he placed a kiss on her neck before resting his chin on her shoulder. “She was a beautiful woman, a ghrá. You take after her.”
“You think so?” Cassandra’s chest burned as she gazed at the picture of her parents. Her fingers travelled lovingly over her mother’s features. She struggled to recall any memories from when she was a part of her life.
She leaned back against his chest. “I can remember that morning like it was yesterday. I was a little over eight years old. My dad kneeled in front me so he could look into my eyes. I don’t think I will ever forget the pain in them. I knew just by looking into his that something terrible had happened. When he spoke, his voice trembled as he told me my mother was in heaven.” She paused, lost in thought, reliving that dark moment. “I’d never seen him like that before. I can also clearly remember the day I realized I could no longer see her face, hear her beautiful Spanish accent, or smell the musky scent of her perfume.” It bothered her deeply that she couldn’t remember more of the happier years. Her voice hitched. “Why would he send this to me now? He cherishes this picture.”
Trevor’s warm lips caressed her shoulder. “He’s trying really hard to make things up to you, Cassie. Maybe he wanted you to have something to remember them by since you’re married now, living far from h
im.”
She set the picture on the counter, turned in his arms, and pressed a kiss on his lips. “Do you think it’s a sign he’s finally moving on?”
“Maybe it is, a ghrá,” Trevor responded, watching her closely. “Would that bother you?”
“No! I would love him to find someone.” Stepping out of his arms, she snagged another pastry and skillfully changed the subject. “Hey, I have something for you. Meet me upstairs in the office when you’re ready. I reviewed all the data from George and found something you’re gonna find very interesting.” Before he could retort, she headed back upstairs. She didn’t have time to dwell on the past at that moment. They had more important work to do—work that had an impact on their future.
Trevor took his time following her. He’d observed the frown marring her beautiful face as she left. She needed space and he’d give her some. He covered the rest of the pastries, grabbed the parcel from the counter, and climbed the stairs, making a pit stop on the third floor to store the new cameras with the rest of their surveillance equipment.
When he walked into the office, Cassandra’s eyes were glued to her screen. Sitting at his desk, he pulled up the project file Cassandra had saved. “So, what do you have for me?”
She glanced up and caught his gaze over the monitors. “Sergei Deminov. Russian national.”
“Hmm…why is that name familiar?” Trevor narrowed his eyes, searching his memory.
“His connections are shady, to say the least. Appears to be the right hand of a Russian business man named Vladimir Mikhailov.”
“Did you say Mikhailov?” Cassandra nodded and Trevor exploded. “Fuck! This is big! The NSA had him on the watch list. He’s a well-known Russian mafia boss. An old timer. A thief-in-law.”
Cassandra frowned at the term. “Enlighten me. Russia was not part of my directorate.”
“A thief-in-law has authority and a high-ranking status within the criminal underworld of the old Soviet Union. Somewhat like the Italian mafia Godfather, but way more ruthless.”
“Now that you mention it, I have heard of them. Through Bob. Aren’t they considered the elite of Russian organized crime?
“Yes!” Trevor’s voice filled with excitement. “Mikhailov is like a Godfather to his underlings; his organization is known for its focus on digital fraud.”
Trevor jumped from his chair and cupped Cassandra’s face with both hands, pressing a hard kiss on her lips. “The Mikhailov connection is huge! Great job! This guy was involved in several online frauds already investigated by the FBI, CIA, and NSA. He never puts his neck on the line—his group’s activities never point to him directly. I am surprised he let this connection slip.” Trevor shook his head and began to pace the room. “I think Deminov made a big mistake in hiring a rookie like Tomlin.”
A flicker of apprehension coursed through Cassandra. The stakes were getting much higher than she had anticipated. They were turning out to be tied to extremely heavy players. “Damn, Trevor. What are we getting into? What the hell was Tomlin thinking?” She bit her lip, worrying at it as she filtered through potential next steps in her head.
After a few minutes, she leaned forward in her chair. “Considering the Russian mafia controls most of the banking industry there, it’s probably safe to say if the decrypter was to be completed in their hands it would be a heyday.” She tucked her leg under her and settled back in her chair, moving it from side to side as she watched Trevor circle the room like a caged lion.
She voiced her thoughts as they occurred to her. “Based on the transcripts and the triangulation of the calls, Mikhailov and his people seem to be in the St. Petersburg area. We need to get eyes and ears on his headquarters as soon as possible. Need to be sure George has tapped every single name on those transcripts. Have to find out what else he’s got.”
Trevor stopped in front of her, quirked an eyebrow, and cracked a smile. “I’m sure he did. Now…breathe, Cassie girl.”
On a roll, the thoughts just kept tumbling off her tongue. “Once we confirm Mikhailov’s location, can you infiltrate and destroy their servers from here?”
“It will depend on what kind of network he has. If it’s something I can do from here then, yes. I don’t want to put our necks on the line if we can avoid it.”
“Why the hesitation? Cough it up. What’s bothering you?”
“Considering who we are dealing with, chances are he has his ass covered.”
“And that means?”
“We’ll have to be there. Physical infiltration.”
Cassandra grew quiet, processing how the infiltration would work. “Maybe we should head there now. Begin close-range surveillance on our own. Tap into George’s resources from there.” Hearing a low chuckle from Trevor’s direction, she tossed him a questioning look.
The grin on his face grew wider. “Damn, Cassie. I love how your mind works. Love you more, but definitely love your brain.”
Cassandra felt the heat of the blush creep up from her neck to her cheeks and laughed self-consciously. “Sorry. I got carried away and didn’t even let you get a word in edgewise.”
Trevor’s mouth twitched with amusement. “I agree. We should be there. We’d be close enough to act quickly once we have the location of the files and decide what’s needed for the retrieval.”
His thoughts filtered back to what he knew of Mikhailov’s organization’s infrastructure and hoped his network was outdated. If they were lucky, Mikhailov had hired teenagers, who usually weren’t as cautious about patching their systems, for the hack job. But he knew that was almost like praying for a miracle.
He slipped back in his chair and stared off into space, considering the risks surrounding the job—and then the reward that would come in the end. Eager to get back to it, he opened the chat application and sent George a quick note.
Send me any current information on Vladimir Mikhailov. This thing goes deep. Find any current tap on him and keep me posted.
Trevor left the application open. Knowing George, he would respond the moment he caught wind of the message.
“Hey, Cassie. We should get things started. We need to book our flight as soon as possible. Do you still have your CIA contacts? Think they might help expedite our visas?”
Cassandra nodded. “Let me see what I can do.”
“Okay. In the meantime, I’ll update Devlin and let him know we might be on the move shortly.”
They both turned to their computers and tackled their tasks in an almost synchronized operation, like a well-oiled machine. Trevor overheard Cassandra making several phone calls and murmuring in the background while Trevor composed the email update to appease Devlin.
A while later, Cassandra turned her chair and faced Trevor, tapping her notepad as she spoke. “Got our visas taken care of. I’ve scheduled a courier to pick up our passports for delivery to the US Embassy. They’re being pushed through the diplomatic queue to the Russians. We should have them within a couple of business days.”
“Nice!” Trevor praised her with a big smile on his face. “I am almost done with this report. My stomach is growling. Jessie should be back anytime. Do you want to take a break and start dinner? I will be there to help you in a few.”
“Yep. I should give her a call and find out when to expect her or if she’s found an Irishman to entertain her already.” Her stomach growled as she stood, giving her pause. She glanced over at Trevor and knew by his lifted brow that he’d heard it.
A smile pulled at his lips. “Guess you’re hungry, too.”
Laughing, Cassandra patted her stomach and walked to where Trevor was sitting. “I guess I am.”
“Perfect, I’ll be down shortly,” Trevor nodded, his attention already turning back to the screen the minute a beep sounded on his computer indicating George had responded to his message.
Chapter Eleven
Childish
CASSANDRA HEARD THE DOOR UNLOCK as she stepped off the last stair onto the first level. Jessica appeared coming up from the fo
yer a minute later. A fun greeting died in Cassandra’s throat at the sight of her friend’s flushed cheeks and downright pissed-off expression as she walked toward her, clearly lost in thought.
“Jessica?”
Startled, Jessica’s eyes cleared and jumped to hers. “Damn it, Cassie! Don’t scare me like that.”
“Scare you? That scowl is enough to send me running back upstairs for my Glock. What the hell happened? Are you okay?”
“Jeez. Yes, I’m fine. No harm, no foul,” Jessica dismissed her concerns with a wave of hand.
“Then what? Someone grabbed the shoes you were lusting after out of your hands or something?”
“Something like that,” Jessica huffed, following her to the kitchen where she leaned on the counter. Cassandra knew her too well and could easily unmask her with piercing and observant eyes.
She felt the anger vibrating in Jessica’s voice. It was a perfect match to her earlier expression. Something was up and she was determined to find out what had upset her friend so.
Her gaze flicked to Jessica’s hands. “Where are your shopping bags? You’ve been gone all freaking day and not one bag?” Cassandra narrowed her eyes and stalked toward Jessica playfully. “Who are you? And what did you do with my best friend?”
Jessica burst out laughing, backing away with raised hands. “Whoa there, tiger.” She shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say? I didn’t find anything worth spending my precious Euros on. Can’t be overspending my savings until I know what my expenses with the new place will be.”
Skeptically, Cassandra eyed her up and down before turning her attention to the contents of the fridge. As she rummaged in it, she tossed back, “Uh huh. And again, I ask you. Will the real Jessica please step forward?”
Jessica hopped up to sit on the counter and watched Cassandra pop the lids off the containers she’d pulled out from the shelves. As she took whiffs from them, Jessica snorted and Cassandra looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. “What?” she asked. “It’s leftover paella. I was just checking.”
To Russia With Love (Countermeasure Series) Page 10