“Get him to see you as human, not as a target. If he feels any sort of empathy for you, he could possibly start to waver in his desire to hurt you. Then, we can eventually turn him.”
“All right. I’ll do my best.”
“You’ve got this,” I said, squeezing her arm.
We entered the coffee shop and bought two cups before sitting at the table next to the hacker. Katia was a pro, chatting with me as she surreptitiously eyed our target. He was burieddeep in his laptop and hadn’t paid us any attention, so I knew his guard was down.
“Now is a good time,” I said softly, giving her a nod.
She licked her lips and then looked over at the kid. He wore a hoodie and ear pods, and his fingers moved quickly over the laptop.
“Izvinite, vy russkiy?” she asked.
His eyes lifted and he removed his ear pods. “What?”
“Oh, you speak English,” she said, smiling. “I was just asking if you were Russian. I see you have a sticker on your laptop that saysy??? ? ???? ????.” Glancing at me, she said, “That meanskill the slave within yourself.”
“Cool,” I said, lifting my eyebrows.
“Yeah, I was born there, but I live here now.”
“I love meeting fellow Russians. My mom was Russian, and my dad was Estonian.”
The kid gave a droll look. “That’s nice.” He returned to his laptop, and Katia looked at me, a question in her expression. I gave a nod, and she continued.
“I’m Katia,” she said, scooting her chair closer and extending her hand. “What’s your name.”
Recognition washed over the kid’s face, and his hoodie slid from his head as he whipped it to look toward the door.
“I wouldn’t run, kid,” I said, tapping the holster on my hip. “We just want to talk.”
His eyes darted between the door and Katia as tension swirled between the three of us.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” the hacker finally said. “Marco and Oskar want Michael Caruso.”
Katia’s chest lifted as she inhaled a huge breath, the realization that we’d found our hacker washing over her. “I don’t want to get hurt, but your actions are making that impossible.Kak vas zovut?”
His nostrils flared as he contemplated. “Dmitry.”
“Nice to meet you, Dmitry,” she said, her words slow since she knew he was spooked. “I want you to know that I’m not upset at you. The organization you work for is evil. I know this because they killed my sister.”
Dmitry’s eyes narrowed. “When?”
Katia’s mouth softened. “A long time ago,” she said softly. “And it was the worst day of my life.”
“Oskar brought me here when my parents died,” he said, his brown eyes solemn under a mop of curly brown hair. “He pays me to help him. No one in his organization knows shit about tech. I mean, not as much as I do.” He lifted his chin with pride.
“You’re a very talented hacker,” Katia said with a nod. “We also work with someone talented, and she says you’re very good.”
“Rossi’s daughter,” he said with a nod. “She’s good. I’m better, but she’s good.” He shrugged.
“Let me tell you what happens as we close the gap here, Dmitry,” I said.
“Dima,” he said, his tone annoyed.
I looked at Katia.
“It’s the informal derivative of his name. Teenagers never use their full names in Russia, and you look very uncool right now.”
