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A belief that Kuznetsovwouldn’tactually hurt her?
“What are you looking at, Conor?” she sniped, glowering at me.
I shot her a smile. “You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”
My smile morphed into a grin when she let out a shriek of outrage then stormed over to the bathroom. The door slammed only after she flipped me the bird. Once inside, another growl made itself known to me, and I left her alone, knowing that would take her mind off things for a short while.
Retreating to my computer, I stared at the programs I had running. Right now, I wasn’t dealing with content, but contacts. Messages were being crawled through and email addresses were being collected.
As I stared at my secondary laptop that was still flexing its muscles as it waded through a decade of rejected insurance claims, I pursed my lips. We were no closer to uncovering the truth, but it was definitely uncanny that something had cropped up—
My cell rang again.
“Yes?”
“Your plane will be ready in an hour.”
Fucking flying. I mean, I knew we couldn’twalkto the UK, but Jesus H. Christ, this sucked.
“Thank you.” I nearly choked on the lie as I wasnotgrateful, but then something popped into my head. Good timing seeing as I needed the distraction. “Kuznetsov, have you heard of Operation: Jorgmundgander?”
“Yes, of course. I’m surprised you have.”
“Ran across it during our investigation,” I said smoothly. “Are they Montagues or Capulets? Montagues being Brothers and—”
“Capulets being Sparrows, yes, yes,” was his impatient retort. “I understood the analogy. They are neither. It’s an interesting division. Neutral, allegedly. But Brothers are among the ranks as, I assume, are Sparrows.”
“How does it work?” I asked.
“The nature of the division is to prevent calamity. It was introduced during the Cold War by NATO who acted as intermediaries between the US and the USSR. High-risk, skilled operatives who were arrested by the opposition were funneled into one of three specialized prison units in the UK.
“Now, it operates only for NATO powers. Prisoners have the chance to reduce their sentences for time served while inside.”
“Was it just for field agents?”
“No.”
I thought about Eoghan and the role he played in this fuckfest. “Do they just use criminals?”
“No. It’s grown exponentially to include all manner of operatives.Butit’s unusual in that nationality doesn’t matter. Only skills do.”
That answered why an American had been drafted into this operation, I guessed.
Pursing my lips, I stated, “When we’re ready to return to Dubrovnik—”
“You will be traveling with two men who, as my granddaughter suggested, have dubious morals.” He sighed. “She endeavors to see the worst in me, but I never claimed that the Union was perfect. We are but humans, and humans are, at their hearts, self-serving.”
There was something about this old man that got to me. He had a way of saying things that hit me hard. Maybe it was because I was used to Da who was a crackpot and who hadn’t exactly sprouted words of wisdom at the dinner table, or maybe it was because Kuznetsov wasright.
No body of power was capable of being entirely neutral. The human condition would never permit it.
At my lack of an answer, he asked, “May I ask why you’re heading to London?”
“We need to speak with the heads of BDSec.”
“Curious.” He paused. “I appreciate your honesty.”
I hummed.
