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“They were supposed to follow you to determine why you were in Kaliningrad.”
“They shot at us.”
“It wasn’t them,” the man behind her said. “The group who came after you were part of the Wolf Guard, sent by Rolfe Wernher.” He glanced at Tatiana, then back at Sam, saying, “We were, however, responsible for the shooting at the apartment in Marrakesh. That was before we realized who you were. For that, we apologize.”
“And you are?” Sam asked.
Tatiana glanced behind her, then back at Sam. “My partner, Viktor Surkov.”
“Partner?” Remi said. “I wasn’t aware that was a rank in the military.”
Exactly what Sam was thinking.
The woman had a pained smile. “The subterfuge of my . . . exalted rank was necessary in order to receive the help we needed from the Polish government. They’re not exactly going to roll out the red carpet for a couple of police investigators, especially when they find out we’re using the cultural property as our—”
“Investigators?” Sam said. “For which agency?”
“FSB,” she clarified. “Viktor and I have been working undercover for the last six months, cultivating contacts with Rolfe as part of our investigation. No one out there can know.?
??
“You have identification?” Sam asked.
“Not with us. We were, after all, in the middle of an operation, so you can imagine what might happen if someone ran across it.”
Sam’s gaze flicked toward her so-called partner, who certainly held himself in a manner of someone with military training. But he’d also seen ex-military who were employed by criminals. “There has to be some way of verifying it.”
“There isn’t,” she said. “If an inquiry is made through any law enforcement branches, it signals an alert. In fact, we’re breaking protocol just by talking to you. What I need, what I’m hoping for, is your trust.”
“Trust,” Remi said, “isn’t something we give too easily. Especially considering you’re not giving us any way to check.”
“It has to be that way,” she said. “We don’t know if Rolfe or the Wolf Guard have anyone working on the inside of any of these agencies.”
“Why come to us?” Sam asked.
“There’s no delicate way to put it, except to say that you’ve stumbled into the middle of what had been a meticulously planned operation. As a result, your lives are in danger.”
“From whom?”
“Rolfe Wernher and another, larger organization called the Wolf Guard. They’re working together.”
“Operation Werewolf.”
“You’ve heard of them. No doubt from your friend Gustaw here in Poland and Miron in Kaliningrad.”
“Miron?” Remi asked. “We haven’t been able to reach him since we’ve left. You’ve been in touch?”
Tatiana nodded. “Right after you fled Kaliningrad, the Wolf Guard picked him up on the orders of Rolfe. They were in the midst of beating him to find out what he’d told you. A little subterfuge on our part—along with his cooperation—we were able to track you to Poland. He’s fine, by the way. In hiding until we can be assured of his safety.”
Sam wanted to believe them if only because her story answered a lot of questions. Even so, he wasn’t about to risk the lives of Remi and his flight crew on the say-so of one woman he’d never met until today. “What’s your opinion, Remi?”
“I think I’d like a little more proof. If I’m not mistaken, Sergei mentioned that he’d heard of this Petrov crime family. Why is that?”
“Good question,” Sam said. “Come to think of it, Selma told us about your crime boss father being murdered by a rival gang. Can you explain that?”
“Very simple,” Viktor replied. “We created that crime family as part of Tatiana’s cover story. We knew Rolfe Wernher wouldn’t trust her unless she had a pedigree that matched his own. We ran a few well-placed articles in the newspapers and on the internet.” He pointed to Remi’s tablet on the table. “If you look it up, you’ll see that Tatiana Petrov recently stepped into the role of her notorious crime boss father, Boris Petrov, known for his drug running and arms dealing.”
Remi reached for the tablet and started searching. “Here it is,” she said, showing Sam. He scanned the search results and saw a number of headlines detailing the crime family.
