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Star was frowning. “She must have turned up somewhere.”
“Apparently not. She never showed up in a morgue or with injuries at the local hospitals. CPS never placed her in the system.”
“That makes no sense.”
Eoghan shrugged at Star’s confusion. “I know. But that’s all I was told, and it was a ‘make sure that you don’t let this happen or else’ kind of example.”
“What happened to the agent behind the botched job?”
“I don’t imagine he or she is sipping piña coladas in Cancun, Conor. So I doubt Kuznetsov will get his revenge.”
“You think they’re dead?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Star grimaced. “I can’t imagine Kuznetsov was in the dark about any of this. Why waste our time and resources on finding the agent when we could just be focusing on the girl if he didn’t think the agent was alive?”
“True.” I focused on my brother. “Do you have anything we can use to pin this pile-up down, Eoghan? A date or a place?” I knew we could ask Kuznetsov but, in his letter, he mentioned neither, which kept us pretty much in the dark.
It wasn’t like we had the man on speed dial to pepper him with questions.
“I told you, they wiped the records clean.”
“You can’t bleach a pile-up away. Not a British spy agency in the US, at any rate.”
“Don’t be naive, Conor. My division makes the CIA look like kids playing tag around the globe,” was his flat retort. “If you don’t think they have leverage on key members of staff in the right places who can do as they say, you’re an idiot.”
I grumbled, “Nice.”
“Just telling you to keep your hopes low—”
Star choked out, “Operation: Jorgmundgander.”
Eoghan’s tension was immediate. I cast a glance between them. “I’m assuming this has nothing to do with the MCU?” It was my turn to sound wistful.
“I thought it was an urban legend,” she breathed, staring at him with wide eyes.
Jesus, it was her turn to fan girl.
“I wish it fucking were,” Eoghan intoned grimly.
“Jorgmundgander is the world serpent in Norse mythology,” Star explained to me.
“Yeah, I know, babe,” I drawled, amused that she’d think I wouldn’t know my mythology. “He grew so large that he surrounded the earth and grasped his own tail in his mouth.”
“When he lets go of his tail, that’s when Ragnarök is supposed to start,” was Eoghan’s glum response.
“I’m assuming that Operation: Jorgmundgander’s purpose is to make sure he never lets go of his tail? Metaphorically speaking.”
Eoghan took another deep sip of his drink which, I figured, gave me my answer.
Sensing that I wouldn’t get much else out of him, I rubbed my bottom lip with the edge of my thumb. “Thanks, Eoghan. Appreciate you sharing that with the class.”
Eoghan hitched a shoulder. “Start in Cincinnati.”
“Thanks, bro.” A thought occurred to me. “IsInessa pregnant by the way?”
“No.”
