Page 33 of Valkyrie


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Zane wheeled his chair over beside her and grabbed a tablet and paper. He was so funny. Cute, even. She grabbed his pen and shoved it over her ear, lodging it in the locks of her messy bun as she called up a document and activated the dictation program.

“Smithson Dimitri Young, only son to James Smithson Young and Nora Solsevski Young. And that’s the first wrinkle in this investigation. Nora is actually Nadia Solntesevskaya, as in the Bratva’s missing darling. She was engaged to be married to one of the oligarchs at the time. This guy was like sixty-five and butt ugly but also very powerful in the politburo and high-ish in the Bratva. He was not as high as the Solntesevskayas, but he had ambition when he was young and obtained political connections.

“Needless to say, he wasn’t a happy camper when Nadia disappeared, and a divide in the Bratva caused by her running off still exists today. The Solntesevskayas and the Molotovs, yes, like the cocktail, are at odds. The Solntesevskayas are larger and have more assets. Of the three million known members of the brotherhood, the Solntesevskayas control a branch with over seven hundred fifty thousand members. None of the other branches of the Bratva come close. They are the largest criminal syndicate in the world.”

“Wait, how did she meet Smithson’s old man?” Jewell leaned forward, completely enthralled with the story.

“Glad you asked. He traveled to Russia in the seventies, no less, on an educational exchange. They met then. Young has money. By all accounts, he’s a smart guy and had a sweet gig with one of the major oil companies. Mid to high six-figure income until about fifteen years ago. Then new money started pouring in based on technology he’s invented and copyrighted. Some gadget that revolutionized refineries in the oil industry. The thing is, he was sued by another person who claimed he was the actual inventor of the device. The man went missing, and the case never went to court.”

“Interesting,” Jewell commented. “What about Smithson?”

“Man, this guy’s life has sucked in a major way. And I say that having lived an ultra-sucky life. The exclusive and extremely expensive boarding school your Smithson attended has digital records. Which was a score in the good column for them, but they had zero meaningful safeguards. My dog could have hacked their system. I managed to get all of the younger Smithson’s records. It wasn’t a happy read. His sperm donor paid two times the going rate of tuition to keep him there eleven months out of the year. His progress reports indicate he’s very intelligent but a loner. He got straight A’s in school, volunteered for every extra credit assignment, and blew the SATs out of the fucking water. The school kept their correspondence with the parents. The academy refused to keep him over the Christmas and New Year holidays, stating their staff needed a break. He couldn’t apply for college without his parents’ information because they made too much money, which disqualified him from any grants. The scholarships he was offered were withdrawn. I cracked into those colleges. The parents made hefty donations, and the scholarships were pulled. Those fuckers made sure nobody wanted the kid.”

“Damn.” Jewell shook her head. She couldn’t imagine growing up alone without the love that her mom had made sure was available.

“Yeah. About three weeks after he graduated, I started finding police reports from New York City with his name. The charges run the gambit from vagrancy, petty theft, and brawling. He’s heir to a multi-million-dollar fortune. What in the hell was he doing on the streets of New York? I had to ask myself, did he run away from those shit parents? There are gaps of years before there are mentions of him as a suspect in numerous crimes, but nothing was pinned on him. We’re talking murder charges here. Six that I’ve uncovered. Then nothing until about ten years ago. It looks like your Smithson straightened out some and worked for a minor politician named Simmons in New York, according to payroll records. I’m finding some pretty shady dealings attached to this guy Simmons, so maybe your guy didn’t actually straighten up but became a higher-class form of killer. From there, tracking him has been exceptionally spotty. He’s been off the grid. I can’t tell you who’s paying him if he's getting a check. If he has a cell phone it is pay-as-you-go. No contracts in his name. There are no credit cards, no debt, and no bank accounts that I can find. I assume his housing is paid in cash, as I don’t have any rental agreements. He’s pretty damn good at ghosting, although facial rec picked him up on a flight to London. Guess which flight?”

“The New York to London flight that hijackers attempted to take over,” Jewell answered.

“Damn it. You knew.” There was a sigh. “How?”

“I have to keep some of my secrets, but the rest of the information is exactly what we need.” Jewell nodded to herself. “All right. So, nothing notorious or anything that would stop him from being cleared?”

“Haven’t you been listening to me? I wouldn’t clear him, and I can one hundred percent guarantee the Office of Personnel Management won’t give this guy a clearance. He has a criminal background and is a suspect in at least six open felony murder cases. Granted, they’re all cold cases, but still.”

“Suspected, right? Not convicted.”

“Yep. Guilty until proven innocent, especially with our judicial system.” Con chuckled.

“That’s not the way it’s supposed to go.” Jewell rolled her eyes even though the guy couldn’t see it. “Anything else?”

“Well, not with him, but remember that missing tech guy?”

“Yeah, the one suing his dad.”

“The Youngs started making overseas calls a month before that guy disappeared. Guess where they called.”

“Russia.”

“Bingo. All calls trace to Pappa Solntesevskaya. Putting two and two together and seeing the total of a missing person at the end, it looks like the princess called Daddy for a little old-fashioned Bratva intervention. The communications have become more frequent as time has passed, and the Youngs have traveled back to Mother Russia numerous times. As a matter of fact, they’re currently in Russia.”

Jewell frowned. That was really hard to pin as a coincidence. Both Smithson and his parents were overseas at the same time. WhywasSmithson going overseas? She needed more information because the dots didn’t connect. Yet. “Do you know where the Youngs are currently?”

“Based on their past spending, it could be anywhere from Krasnoyarsk to Moscow to St. Petersburg. They travel extensively inside the country. I haven’t hacked into Russia in a long time, but it’s not hard. I think whatever rift Nadia caused by leaving has been repaired, at least on her side of the divide.”

“Cool. Thanks. I have an off-topic question. Any idea where Komal is heading?”

There was a pause before Con cleared his throat. “Yes, that is correct.”

“Russia? Someone just came into your office, didn’t they?”

“Yes, that’s right. You are following the right protocols. Is there anything else you need?”

“Nope. Thanks a billion.” She stopped the transcription, and the connection ended without Con saying another word. “So Smithson doesn’t have a stellar record.” She bit her lip.

“You know his past isn’t the issue. It’s the present, his future, and his abilities they’re going to examine. He has a few bumps in the road, but we’ve worked with more damaged people.” Zane sighed. “Usually, the recruiter puts them through a scrub. We don’t have that luxury.”

She nodded and glanced at her husband. He was her center, her true north. “Do I go forward with the verbal brief or wait for the approved version from the NSA?”

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