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Identity Page 4

by Nancy Ann Healy


  “What’s that?”

  “Why did Jim kill O’Brien?”

  Jonathan sighed.

  “Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “It is curious,” he agreed.

  “The minute you and Eleana arrive, McCollum pulls the trigger on O’Brien. Why? He had him there for weeks.”

  “I don’t know, Alex. What could he do? Bring O’Brien back to the states?”

  Alex massaged her temples. The story McCollum told about Christopher O’Brien never added up to her—not fully. She had no affinity for Cassidy’s ex-husband. He was a liar, a cheat, a manipulator, and a traitor. His recklessness and arrogance nearly got Cassidy killed. She didn’t mourn the former congressman. She’d always regarded him as someone’s pawn. McCollum made O’Brien out to be a substantial player, embedded and directed from youth. She’d met O’Brien, interacted with him. Either he was the most talented actor ever born, or Jim McCollum had not been completely transparent. Alex feared the latter. McCollum held O’Brien for weeks, questioned him, and then killed him. “I don’t know,” Alex said. “It never sat right with me.”

  “Well, you don’t have Russ anymore, and you don’t have O’Brien to play, so unless you plan to embed Claire—”

  Alex shrugged.

  “Alex? You can’t be serious. Brackett? I know you two have this understanding.”

  “If anyone can get close, it’s Claire.”

  “Maybe so. How do you know she’ll stay firm?”

  “I trust her.”

  He scratched his cheek. “Because Cassie trusts her.”

  “No, because I do.”

  “But you’re worried.”

  “Not for the reasons you think. If Kapralov’s people think for one second that she is playing them, they won’t think twice about killing her, or worse.”

  “Brackett can handle herself,” he offered.

  “I said I trust Claire. That doesn’t change the fact that she’s impulsive.”

  “So, what do you need from me?”

  “Specifically?” Alex asked lightly.

  He laughed. “I’ll dig up whatever I can on Kapralov’s movements. I get the feeling there’s more.”

  “I need you to look into the members of Candace’s cabinet. Beyond what’s on their resumes.”

  “Anyone specific?”

  “All of them. I might look at Defense and State first.”

  “Any reason?”

  “Not specifically. Call it—”

  “A feeling?”

  “Something like that. While you’re at it, if you could help Tate—"

  “Help Joshua do what?”

  “Get us assigned another shitty case. We need a reason for Claire to bounce.”

  “My pleasure.”

  ***

  Eleana reached over and took hold of Claire’s hand to stop the incessant drumming of her fingers on the table. “It takes a call from the president for you to visit, huh?”

  “El, I—”

  “It’s okay.”

  Claire shook her head. It wasn’t okay. She’d avoided Eleana for months. It felt strange seeing the woman she’d loved most of her life married, and a mother. Claire hated to admit it, but it also hurt—just a little. “How’s BJ?”

  “Well, he’s pooping less and sleeping more,” Eleana replied. She laughed when Claire’s face drained of all color. “Afraid of a little poop?”

  “Another reason I don’t have any kids.”

  “I’ve seen you change a few of Fallon’s diapers,” El reminded her friend.

  “Can we talk about Russia now? It’s less frightening.”

  “I’ve been out of the mix for a few years, Claire. I don’t know how much help I can be.”

  “But you were in the mix. What do you know about Nika Kapralov? Dimitri rarely mentioned him. I don’t think he envisioned Kapralov coming to power.”

  “Probably not.”

  “But he did—come to power.”

  Eleana nodded. She took a few slow breaths and nodded again. “I think the question that you want to be answered is why did he come to power.”

  “Why did he?”

  “Kapralov is one of the most intelligent men in the SVR. When I say intelligent, I’m not only talking about an IQ test. He’s insatiably curious—about everything. The only thing that outpaces his need to learn is his desire for power. Dangerous combination. He studies more than history, more than the political talking points of the day. He makes it his mission to know who can be bought and who can be easily sold. Not just in the federation—here in the states, in Europe—everywhere. He worships Stalin, even now, and he’s studied Hitler’s rise since he was a child. His grandfather fought at Stalingrad in World War II.”

  “We’ve all heard that tale.”

  “Maybe not all of it.”

  “Ancient history, El.”

  “Nothing about history is ever ancient,” Eleana disagreed. “If you want to know who Kapralov is, what he wants to achieve, and what he’s willing to do in that crusade, then you need to understand why he is who he is—at least, why he believes he is who he is now.”

  “Do I have to read for this lesson?”

  Some things about Claire would never change. Thankfully, those were the parts of her that Eleana would always love. “No. No reading. Not yet,” Eleana answered.

  “Yet?”

  “Listening. Can you handle listening?”

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  “Oh? I thought it was to help with the poop.”

  Claire wrinkled her nose. “I’d prefer to read.”

  Eleana laughed raucously. “Coffee?”

  “Whiskey?” Claire suggested.

  “I’ll make some coffee.”

  ***

  Krause waited for Alex’s reply. And waited. “Alex?”

  “Pip, Pyotr Gregorovich is a worm.”

  “You mean he’s slimy. Maybe. He’s also a central figure at ASA.”

  Advanced Strategic Applications, or ASA, had only gained power in the years since Alex left the CIA. The corporation operated under different umbrellas in more than thirteen countries and enjoyed contracts in many others. It laundered money, traded state secrets, armed rebels in African and South American countries, took part in assassinations, and served as one of the most extensive cover-ups for SVR activities around the globe. Legitimate corporations had more influence than campaign donations in every country. Carecom served many of the same purposes in the United States. Alex and Jonathan had pulled back the reins on the most nefarious undertakings at Carecom. ASA, on the other hand, had ventured into a new territory over the last decade—nuclear energy. It gobbled up the three major nuclear providers and engineering companies in Russia, and established its largest subsidiary, Atomen. Atomen now served as the Russian State Nuclear Energy Corporation under the supervision of ASA. For Alex, the acquisition was frightening. It meant that ASA now oversaw the mining of uranium and the construction of nuclear energy facilities in Russia and beyond. Pyotr Gregorovich had spearheaded the acquisitions— at least, on paper. Gregorovich was an up and comer in the SVR when Alex worked for the NSA. After Dimitri Kargen’s death, Gregorovich’s star began to rise. She did not relish the idea of making Gregorovich Claire’s first point of contact.

  “Jonathan, Gregorovich—”

  “Is as close as we can get Claire—fast. From what I know, he’s the most likely to welcome her into the fold.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Kargen kept him in the backseat. He underestimated Gregorovich.”

  “And?”

  “And, Gregorovich pays attention to everything. He does have a weakness.”

  “Women?”

  “Well, most of us have that weakness.”

  Alex chuckled.

  “No. Hubris. More than Kargen, Kapralov, and Ivanov put together, he is arrogant. He’ll believe Claire wants back inside.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because he believes anyone wou
ld be crazy not to search him out—not to play on his team. Kargen was a fly in Gregorovich’s eyes. I suspect he’d like to thank Claire for removing his roadblock.”

  “You think because Claire is the one who killed Dimitri, that ingratiates her to Gregorovich?”

  “I’d bet on it. I told you; his ego is his downfall. No one is more qualified than Claire to expose his weakness.”

  Alex hated to admit that her brother’s assessment made sense. Jonathan Krause had no great love for Claire Brackett. He tolerated her. Alex knew that he harbored doubts about Claire’s ability to show loyalty. She suspected that more than Claire’s past misdeeds and swaying alliances, it was Claire’s longtime love affair with Eleana that drove her brother’s misgivings. He would never admit that. Alex never pressed the issue. It had taken years for Alex to learn to trust Claire. As unbelievable as it was, she trusted Claire with her life—with her family’s life. Claire was family. Alex feared she could not forgive herself if Claire became lost to this cause. It was not Claire’s allegiance that Alex feared might be taken; it was her life. “There’s no one else?” Alex asked.

  “There are many others, Alex. They will all lead Claire to the same place, and that place is Pyotr Gregorovich. Like it or not, this is the most direct, and the safest course if you plan to embed Claire.”

  Alex sighed. I hate this.

  ***

  “I don’t like it,” Alex said.

  “Since when do we get to like what we do?” Claire asked.

  “Claire.”

  “Alex, we’ve been over this. This makes the most sense. Let Krause plant the seeds about me. He and Eleana will make it happen. I can deal with Gregorovich.”

  Alex massaged her temples with frustration. She had spent hours with her older brother reviewing Candace’s staff files. Every person appointed to the cabinet and every individual seeking any level of security clearance endured an extensive background check. Reviewing someone’s history only revealed facts as accurate as the narrative an investigator had to follow. Narratives could be created—all types of narratives. It was in most people’s nature to approach evidence with an assumption of truth. Alex was grateful that remained human nature. Most people gave trust until they had a reason to suspect deceit. Claire and Alex approached life from the opposite perspective. When Alex questioned a person, when she looked at a resume, a biography, even a photograph, it was incumbent upon her to do so with skepticism. She looked for what others would never see. Pictures could be altered, resumes could be fabricated, and testimony was often invented. If she hoped to unearth the truth, to expose the motivation of those closest to President Candace Reid, and the people generally perceived as distant adversaries, Alex needed to explore every possibility. The only way to get a full picture of the competing agendas that Candace needed to address was for Alex to get closer to the underbelly of international politics again. Claire had the best chance of making believable overtures to the people likely to pose a threat to national security, the president’s policies, or the First Family.

  Claire took a deep breath and addressed her partner. “Alex, we both know that someone is placed close to President Reid—someone who doesn’t share her vision. We both know it. Someone is leaking information out of her cabinet meetings. Chances are that someone, or more than one someone is planting information to gauge her response. We both know that we can’t trust many people. I hope you know that you can trust me.”

  Alex mentally smacked herself. She did trust Claire.

  “I can handle it,” Claire said. “I know how to talk the talk and I have—”

  “I’m confident you can handle it,” Alex said. “But, Claire, it’s not exactly a secret that we’ve been working together. It might not be as easy as you think it will be to convince anyone you are open to walking between worlds again.”

  Claire shrugged off Alex’s concern. People saw what they desired to see. There were more than a few groups who would jump at the chance to recruit Claire Brackett. Most people didn’t believe in redemption—not for a person with Claire’s background. It wouldn’t be difficult to market her talents and her experience to any number of dubious entities, agencies, or individuals. “It won’t be difficult,” Claire replied. “Desperate people don’t have the time to discern reality. And perfidious predators don’t look for the best in anyone. They assume the worst—always.”

  “Perfidious? Have you been reading a thesaurus or something?”

  “Funny, Toles. I can read.”

  Claire had been reading a book Cassidy was writing. Cassidy would likely use the word perfidious. Alex chuckled. “Maybe you’re right,” she conceded.

  “There’s no maybe about it. People see the world as a mirror, Alex. Don’t you know that by now? Everyone sees the world the way they see themselves, or the way they think people see them. You see yourself as fighting the good fight.”

  “I don’t know that I’d say that.”

  “You do. I didn’t say you think you’re a hero. I said you think you’re fighting on the right side of things.”

  “Is there a right side to any of this?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. There’s a side that wants to make things better for everyone, and a side that wants to make things better for themselves. Then there’s us.”

  “Us?”

  “Yeah. We’re the ones always caught in the middle, trying to figure out which person plays for which team. We don’t get to play for a side. We just try to slow one down so the other can get a little bit ahead,” Claire observed.

  “That’s depressing.”

  “That’s the truth. Let Krause put me in play, Alex. He has the resources.”

  “Claire, if you get discovered—”

  “I know what can happen. I won’t let it happen.”

  Alex nodded. “I’ll talk to Candace about planting a few seeds in the cabinet.”

  “Not Tate?”

  Alex shook her head.

  “Don’t you trust Tate?”

  “I trust him. We both know it’s best to keep the circle tight,” Alex said. “You, me, Candace, Jonathan. That’s it on this one—for now. If someone is leaking information from inside Candace’s administration, we have to assume it could be anyone for any reason. They might not even realize who they are leaking it to. You know that. I’ll tell Candace what we’re doing. Jonathan will craft a few believable scenarios about Kapralov’s agenda, and other more innocuous initiatives abroad. We’ll see who takes the bait—which scenario leaks through to the press or elsewhere. Then we’ll know where the holes exist.”

  “And, Tate?”

  “I’ll let Candace decide what to tell him.”

  “He’ll suspect what you’re doing,” Claire said.

  “I’m counting on it. If he is still on our side, he’ll let the information filter through the ranks. If he’s not—”

  Claire nodded. “I hope he is.”

  “Me too.”

  WESTPORT, CONNECTICUT

  Cassidy rolled over and flipped on a light.

  “Sorry,” Alex apologized. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “I thought you were going to stay in Washington?”

  “No. We had to take a detour. We both were ready to get home.”

  “Claire is with you?” Cassidy guessed.

  Alex nodded. She finished undressing and slid under the covers beside Cassidy.

  “What time is it?” Cassidy asked.

  “Almost five.”

  Cassidy shifted so she could look into Alex’s eyes. “Long talk with Candace?”

  “More like a long chat with Pip and El.”

  “That good, huh?”

  Alex chuckled through a yawn. “It’s better than that bad.”

  “Mm. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

  Cassidy kissed Alex tenderly. “Maybe after you get some sleep.” She rolled over and turned out the light.

  “Cass?”

  “Hm
?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Oh, no, love.” Cassidy pulled Alex into her arms. “Spill. What were you about to ask me?”

  “Are you okay with this?”

  Cassidy took a deep breath. Was she okay with this? “I’ll assume you mean the idea that you and Claire are going back to the CIA.”

  “I don’t know that we are going back to the CIA.”

  “Okay. So, you’re going back to what you were doing when you were at the CIA.”

  “Looks that way.”

  “No,” Cassidy answered honestly. She felt Alex stiffen. “I’ll never be okay with you in danger, Alex. I accept it as part of our reality.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.”

  Cassidy turned and flipped the light back on. She sat up against the headboard and shook her head. “We’re not doing this again.’

  “What exactly is this?”

  “Rehashing our reality,” Cassidy said. “You offered to help Candace.”

  “I did. We did, but—”

  “No. There’s no but in this equation—and—there is an and. And, you and Claire are uniquely qualified to help her. If you agreed to get involved, then I know you believe there is cause to be involved.”

  “I do. You come first, Cass. If you ask me not to—”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t lay this on me,” Cassidy said. “You have always had my support, and you always will. Don’t ask me to love it. That’s not fair. I love you. I know you. You miss this, Alex.”

  “Miss what? I don’t miss—”

  “You miss the puzzles. You miss the action. You miss the chase.”

  “You make it sound like a game.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Alex grumbled.

  Cassidy took Alex’s hands and held them tenderly. “I didn’t say that it doesn’t matter. It does. It’s a game that people play with other’s lives. I know you would like to believe you can end it. You can’t.”

  “That’s helpful.”

  “You’re not listening.”

  “Cass, I’m not getting back into the thick of it—not like before.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that I won’t be traipsing off to parts unknown without warning.” I hope.

  “How much warning should I expect?” Cassidy wanted to know.

 

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