Collateral (Tier One #6)

Zeta Safe House

Kiev, Ukraine

1340 Local Time

Gavriil’s encrypted mobile phone rang.

He glanced at it, sighed, and put down his Nintendo Switch. This was the first time he’d been able to play Fortnite in weeks. He’d pulled off the mission—a fucking impossible mission at that—and all he wanted was to be left alone for just one day.

One day . . . is that really too much to ask?

“Prime,” he said, answering the call.

“Are you alone?” Arkady asked; Gavriil recognized his voice instantly.

“Yes, lying low and following standard post-operational protocols.”

“Very good,” the old bear said, then, with what Gavriil imagined was a fatherly smile on his face, added, “Congratulations on the operation. Excellent work.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Are you calling with new tasking?”

“What? I can’t call to congratulate my top asset on a job well done?”

“So, I don’t have new tasking?” Gavriil asked, glancing with hopeful eyes at the video game console.

“I didn’t say that,” Arkady said with a wry little chuckle.

“In that case, I’m ready,” he said.

“Before we get to that, what is the status of Ultra?”

“A fractured response to the pressure. Some have gone to ground, others are running scared, and the rest are pretending nothing happened.”

“Have you severed ties with them?”

“Nyet, not officially, but I haven’t checked in since the day of the attack either. Do you want me to check in?”

“No, no,” Arkady said, and in the pause that followed, Gavriil knew his mentor was weighing the pros and cons of sharing whatever piece of information he was contemplating. Finally, the spymaster said, “I’m going to let you in on a secret.”

“Okay . . .”

“For the past several months, the Americans have been systematically eliminating your brothers and sisters in the field.”

“How many?”

“Six and counting.”

“And you have elected not to warn any of us, I presume?” Gavriil said, working to keep his voice detached despite the hot geyser of anger in his chest.

“That is correct.”

“Do you know where they are getting their intelligence?” he asked, although he suspected he already knew the answer.

“Bessonov, of course.”

Gavriil got to his feet and began to pace. “She’s a traitor.”

“Perhaps,” Arkady said. “Perhaps not. We don’t know her circumstances. We don’t know what intelligence she’s been able to gather during her internment. I see a methodology in her actions. From my outside perspective, she appears to be cooperating in a manner to provide the least value over the longest possible time period. I believe she’s still in the game.”

Gavriil pursed his lips and considered the underlying complexities and ramifications of this last statement. “And so, you decided to let the game play out in the hope she will win the Americans’ trust and she’ll become a mole in their ranks? Or better yet, maybe we’ll get her back in a prisoner exchange, and Petrov can call her a hero and parade her around like fucking Anna Chapman? Is that it? All sins are forgiven?”

Arkady laughed. “In our business, what is sin? What is absolution? Both are nonsensical constructs for a spy. There is only risk and value—my job is to extract the latter while managing the former.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Then ask me the question that is upsetting you so much. As Prime, you are not only permitted to ask questions, it is your duty.”

“Fine,” he said, hating this cat-and-mouse game they were playing. “Why? Why didn’t you warn us we were being hunted?”

“There are three reasons,” Arkady said. “I’ll tell you one and leave the other two for you to ponder.”

“Fair enough.”

“I did not warn you because to do so would be a violation of this program’s charter. Any Zeta worth their salt must be able to execute their mission in the cold. That is the job—disavowed, deep-cover work, alone. Now your turn, Prime. What are the risk-value propositions for taking action versus not taking action?”

Gavriil exhaled and found his center. He swallowed down his petty anger and tried to think like Arkady. “Because to warn the others would have required opening lines of contact with deep-cover assets, creating new electronic trails for the Americans to follow. Trails that could have led them to other network assets and operatives outside of Bessonov’s knowledge base. I’m sorry. How foolish of me to speak without thinking it through first.”

“That’s correct. And the other?”

Gavriil rubbed his temples, which were beginning to throb. “Maybe Bessonov found a way to signal you?”

“Very good,” the spymaster said. “In this case, she has been unsuccessful on that front, but I was hoping to see a pattern and predict the next name she would give up.”

“And that way you could set a trap,” Gavriil said, puzzle pieces suddenly fitting together, another reminder that it was impossible to overestimate the depth of his mentor’s intellect and cunning.

“Da,” Arkady said. “And my instincts tell me the time is now. If I were Kelso Jarvis, I would immediately suspect Zeta had a hand in the assassination attack in Kiev. He knows how I think. He understands now that Russians are willing to sacrifice pieces on the board, and he’s learned this lesson the hard way. He’s going to be angry. He’s going to order his people to squeeze Bessonov until she gives him a name in Kiev. He’ll assume that operative was working with Ultra and he’ll send the Ember task force to prosecute.”

“But I didn’t work closely with Bessonov. Also, I wasn’t occupying the Artem NOC at the time she was taken,” he said.

“That’s right,” Arkady said. “Nor does she know that you’ve ascended to Prime. But she did work with Bondar. She knew about him.”

“Bondar?” Gavriil said with a laugh. “He’s more cuckold than killer. Bondar could never have infiltrated Ultra.”

“Da, but the Americans don’t know that.”

Gavriil nodded. “That’s true. Maybe they will think he procured the Javelin missile and devised the attack.”

“Precisely,” the old spy said.

“What do you want me to do?”

“When Ember comes for Bondar, I want you to be ready. Set the trap, my son. And maybe Bessonov’s suffering and the sacrifice borne by your Zeta comrades who died to protect our brotherhood will not have been in vain.”