Page 48 of The Enforcer’s Pawn

“Volkov money,” he says. “Our clerk. Belyakov. Same path.”

No one answers.

Maksim’s eyes stay on the screen. “I can smell Morozov in this.”

Abramov’s face has gone hard in a way that tells me men will be pulled from beds before the day ends.

“This started with Patrick,” Maksim says. “He opened the door. Now we find out who saw it open.”

Yuri clears his throat, then regrets drawing attention to himself. “There’s one more thing.”

“Speak,” Maksim says.

Yuri opens another window. “Patrick’s stolen account package came with junk metadata attached to an old family-history folder. I almost dumped it because it looked sentimental.”

He taps the screen, and a compressed archive appears under layers of file names, scans, church references, and old O’Connell photographs.

“The lock is personal,” Yuri says. “It doesn’t want simple answers. It wants family sequence data.”

Abramov leans in. “Explain it without making me hate computers.”

Yuri grimaces. “It asks for things only someone raised inside that family would know. Parish records. Old county references. A grandfather’s union card number. A dead aunt’s married name. The order of names in a family Bible. I can break freight encryption and vendor shells all day, but I can’t guess little memories Patrick buried inside his family.”

Petrov mutters, “Negodyay.”

Leonid sees the answer before I say anything. “Bring her in.”

“No,” I say at once.

Leonid doesn’t flinch. “That archive may name the Boston contact, the charity processor, or whoever noticed her Blacklist entry after Patrick pushed it through.”

“She’s angry.”

“She’s useful.”

“She can be dangerous.” Kathryn is under scrutiny, and Cara is hiding something behind her fear. Until I know what it is, giving her a machine is handing her a blade and calling it work.

Maksim stands with his hands in his pockets. “That has never stopped this house from using a person with the right skills.”

He points to the side desk. “Controlled access. Sealed Volkov laptop. Abramov’s deputy watches the door. Yuri watches the machine. Dmitri watches her.”

The office falls so still that the servers seem louder. Maksim’s eyes move to me, and the warning comes without a word. If Cara opens the archive, she may give us Patrick. If she turns the machine against us, I’m the one who stops her.

Then Maksim says the part that makes every man in the office understand this is no longer a request.

“Bring Cara O’Connell downstairs.”

11

CARA

When Dmitri sends for me, I’m already in the middle of a domestic incident over breakfast.

It starts when a new maid brings in the tray, lifts the lid with the proud little flourish of a person revealing state treasure, and presents fish before ten in the morning.

I look at the plate, then at her. “No.”

Her smile stays polished. “Mrs. Wentworth approved the menu.”