Page 61 of The Shadow Friends

“How did you—”

“It’s interesting, isn’t it? That Moscow would rely on Vory assassins to eliminate their enemies. I guess the GRU isn’t what it used to be. Too many recent screwups by their own operatives. Too many embarrassingly public arrests. But the Vory? They’re just gangsters for hire. And no one ever has to know who paid them.”

Marcus was looking at her as if seeing her for the first time. “Surikov,” he said. “Dmitry Surikov. Born in Minsk, educated at Tomsk State University. Spotted there by Directorate S as a prime candidate to plant in the West, because of his aptitude for foreign languages. He was given a new identity and sent to Rio de Janeiro. For fifteen years, he posed as the Brazilian owner of a small publishing house, while he waited for Moscow to activate him.”

“What made him defect?”

“Fifteen years is a long time to live as a sleeper. You’re exposed to so many pleasures, so many liberties. He made friends in Rio. Built a life, in a world where people could speak their minds. He liked to travel, and he did, often. Freedom, after all, is corrupting.”

“So he came in from the cold.”

Marcus nodded. “Twenty years ago, Directorate S ordered him to return to Moscow. Instead, he walked into the US consulate in Naples. No grim Russian winters for him. No, in return for a new identity, he had much to share. Vital details about how illegals are recruited and trained and how many are out there, waiting to be activated. It was a gold mine of info, so of course he was welcomed with open arms. Moved to a safe house for a while, then moved to Amsterdam, where he’s been living for the last sixteen years, under the name Willem Dekker. He’s lived here very quietly, staying out of view. Because we both know that Moscow never forgives a traitor. No matter how much time has gone by.”

“Clearly they learned about his new identity,” said Maggie. “How did that happen?”

Marcus said nothing.

“Have other defectors been exposed?” she asked.

He finally answered. “There have been others,” he conceded.

“When? Where?”

“It’s been happening for more than a year. Assassinations in London, Rome.”

“So you have a mole. Someone who’s providing Moscow with the new names and locations of defectors. I’m guessing you’ve already identified this mole.”

Marcus glanced at his Dutch colleague, then back at Maggie. “What makes you say that?”

“Because you were expecting this assassination attempt. You knew Dmitry Surikov was in danger, and you were watching to see who showed up to kill him.” She paused. “Lucky for us, you were watching.”

“Yes indeed. Lucky for you.”

“Have you arrested this mole yet? Or have you left him in place, to see who he rats out next?”

Marcus sighed. “It’s a shame you retired, Ms. Bird. I like the way you think. Never in a straight line.”

“The Agency taught me that.”

“The Agency has changed. It’s no longer clear who the enemy is. Sometimes I think they’re already inside the gates.” He turned to his Dutch colleague. “Get them back to their hotel. I want them on a flight to Boston tomorrow.”

“Wait,” said Lloyd. “What about my wife?”

Marcus turned to Lloyd with a look of profound weariness. “What about her?”

“I need to find her.”

“Obviously, she doesn’t want to be found. My advice is to go home, before you get into more trouble. Next time, we won’t be there to save you.” Marcus turned to leave.

“Do you know where she is? At least tell me if she’s alive!”

At that, Marcus stopped and turned to face him. “Why do you think there’s a question about that?”

“A few days ago, someone sent Dmitry’s photo to Ingrid. I think she came here looking for him. What if she walked into the same trap we did tonight? What if she wasn’t as lucky as we were?” He took a deep breath, preparing himself for a blow. “Please. I just want to know she’s alive.”

After a silence, Marcus said, “You need not worry about her, Mr. Slocum. She’s fine. They left Amsterdam three days ago.”

“They?” said Maggie.