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My work speaks for itself. I’ve taken my lumps and earned the respect of my colleagues, climbing my way up the ladder just like everybody else.
Peterson taps the lower right corner of the board and lines up each of the Antonov brothers’ pictures. “We have reason to believe these men are using CyberFort as a laundering front for their illicit funds.”
I sigh, my impatience getting the better of me. I’ve always hated sitting around twiddling my thumbs. “You think he’s Russian mafia?”
“We don’t know anything official. He’s been operating under our radar for years, which is why we need to keep better tabs on him. You see, we’re pretty sure he’s the backbone behind the entire operation. He runs the accounts, encrypts their communications. Hell, our contacts in Moscow are pretty sure he’s been causing all kinds of havoc by hacking into local traffic cameras and lights to help his brothers keep track of enemy and police movement. Our Russian friends have asked for our assistance—unofficially, of course—given that he’s an American national.”
“So what you’re saying is that if we take him out, the whole operation unravels?”
Peterson points at his nose. “Ten points to Agent Harper.”
I roll my eyes. I guess therearepoints to be given out. Too bad there aren’t any prizes, or else productivity rates would skyrocket.
“Of course, it’s all circumstantial until we can actually get some wiretaps on the guy. That’s where we come in. We know Luka Antonov is somewhere here in New York, keeping the lowest of profiles. But one of our informants believes he spotted him at a local watering hole.”
My lip curls up into a skeptical sneer. I don’t mean to wear my emotions on my face, it just happens. Everyone keeps telling me I need to work on my poker face if I want any hopes of being tapped for active field duty; otherwise, I’d blow my cover in an instant.
“We’re going to plant one of our undercover operatives at this location,” Peterson says. “It’s obvious Antonov is skittish, so we need to play this cautiously. Our main objective is to collect as much information as possible. That’s why, Dani…”
I look up from my notebook. “What’s up?”
“Washington asked you to head the operation.”
This could be a huge steppingstone for my career. I can already see it playing out in my mind’s eye. I smell a promotion around the corner, maybe even a pay bump—and Lord knows I desperately need a pay bump. I’ve had my eye on a new electric wheelchair for Tabitha for ages, but I haven’t been able to scrape together the funds. This might be the big break I’ve been hoping for.
I nod once, a burning resolve filling my chest.
Staring at his blurry image, I try to picture his face, using his older brothers as reference to create a sort of collage. I bet he has dark brown eyes like the rest of them. They all share the same square jaw. His hair seems slightly longer, a little unkempt and wild. There’s only so much I can glean from the images provided, but that doesn’t stop the gears in my head from turning. I’m already making a profile of him, putting the pieces together—slowly but surely.
“Why isshein charge of the operation?” Agent Melissa Pritt says with deliberate volume and a pointed glare. “She has no experience running an op. It should be me.”
I turn in my chair, throwing my arm over the back of my seat. “After the way you bungled the Rodrigo Cartel raid last month?”
Pritt’s face is stone cold, but her bright pink ears give away her burning humiliation.
“Fuck you, Harper.”
I scratch the spot above my brow with my middle finger. Pritt’s never liked me much. Sometimes I wonder if she goes out of her way to make it known. Despite the FBI’s more proactive inclusion programs, there are still only a handful of women at the agent level in the New York division.
When I first got here, I really did try to get along with her. Girl power and all that jazz. Unfortunately, Pritt is an absolute bitch. Easily jealous and overly territorial. I honestly don’t know what her problem is. We’re on the same team—it’s not a competition. She makes coming to the office absolutely miserable.
“Settle down,” Peterson says, though I catch a hint of amusement in his tone. It’s no secret he loves workplace drama. Some people thrive off chaos, and my mentor is definitely one of them. “That concludes our meeting. Dani, I’ll forward you the dossier.”
“Thank you.”
I’m about to filter out with the rest of my colleagues, the tips of my fingers buzzing with anticipation, when Peterson clears his throat. “Oh, one more thing, rookie.”
“I’ve been here for four years,” I say with a light laugh. “Johnston is newer than I am.”
“Yes, but you’remyrookie, Harper.” His normally chipper face becomes serious. “I’m sure it goes without saying, but… don’t mess this up. There are a lot of eyes watching you right now. If you do this well, it could be a career-maker for you.”
I take a deep breath, unperturbed by the sudden weight of responsibility bearing down on my shoulders. I’ve learned from the best after all. Tracking, profiling, covert networking. Hand-to-hand combat, fluency in Spanish and French, as well as rudimentary disguise. I’ve spent the last four years working up to this day. If anyone can track our elusive target down, it’s me.
Luka Antonov, I’m about to make you my bitch.
Chapter 2
Luka
