Anthem was in play in London. But for whom? And how did she get there?
Her first inclination was to tell Violator to shoot Zoya Zakharova in the head from standoff distance right this moment. But she was no fool; she knew there was no way he would comply with the order. Instead she said, “Just watch her.”
Through the phone she heard her agent speak in a challenging voice. “I thought you told me she was at a safe house somewhere.”
“She was. She . . . escaped. A couple days ago.”
Violator said, “I talked to her before you brought her over to the States. She wanted to go. She wanted to work for you. What the hell were you doing to her that caused her to escape?”
“We weren’t doing anything. She was on her way to becoming an asset. She was doing great, only weeks from operational status.”
“Until one day she just walked out the front door?”
“Yes. Well . . . not exactly. The safe house was hit by armed hostiles. Her motives remain unclear because from the surveillance cameras we see that she was in the process of escaping even before the raid began. There is no way she knew she was in any danger when she made the decision to run, unless she’d been tipped off somehow that gunmen were coming. We don’t think they were there to rescue her, because of her actions against them.”
“You are saying she killed one, aren’t you?”
“Two, in fact.”
Court then asked, “Who were the attackers?”
“Mexican sicarios, although we assume they were working for someone who ordered them to eliminate Zoya. But we don’t know who, and we don’t know how they knew Zoya was there.”
She heard the sigh through the encrypted phone line. “Let me help you with that. You have a big fucking leak at CIA.”
Brewer sighed. “Thank you, Violator, but we are well aware of that much, at least.”
“And people like Zoya and I are exposed and vulnerable. What the hell are you guys doing about it?”
“We’re working on it. We have it narrowed down to a few possibles.”
Violator said, “So . . . again, what do I do about Zoya now?”
To herself, the woman at the desk in McLean, Virginia, said, Shoot that bitch, shoot yourself, and then I’ll run over Hightower with a bus.
But to Violator she said, “Do nothing. Let this play out. Then follow Anthem when she leaves.”
“What the hell is Anthem?”
“Her code name.”
“Right.” A few seconds later he spoke again. “Well . . . shit.”
“What?”
“She’s not going anywhere. The office lights just turned on and a bunch of dudes with guns are in there looking for her.”
To this Brewer just repeated herself. “Let it play, Violator.”
* * *
• • •
On her knees behind the desk, Zoya drew the Walther pistol she’d taken from Gorik Shulga earlier in the day, and she hefted it for use. She was about to rise to her knees and fire, when a voice in Russian called out to her.
“Zoya Feodorovna Zakharova! We mean you no harm. We only wish to speak.”
She did not recognize the voice at all; it was definitely not Vladi Belyakov or Gorik Shulga, the only two native Russians, as far as she was aware, who knew she was here in London. What the hell is going on?
“I have several armed men with me. If you exchange fire with us we will have no choice but to defend ourselves. But we would rather do this peacefully.”
Zoya looked at the glass window, fifteen feet to her left. She could run for it, shoot a hole in it, then dive out, but then she’d fall several floors to her death.
Not an option. Engaging multiple armed men didn’t seem like good odds, either, especially because they clearly had her pinpointed to behind the desk, as the office held no other obvious hiding places.
She did the only thing she could think to do. “Khorosho,” Fine, she said, and continued speaking Russian. “I’m sliding my pistol over the desk, and I’m standing up slowly with hands raised. Does that work for you?”
“As long as you play no tricks, that works fine,” said the Russian voice. She heard him speaking English softly, conferring with others, which surprised her.
These obviously weren’t SVR personnel. So who were they?
She put the Walther on the mahogany desk above her, then slid it forward, all the way over the side. It bounced along the wooden floor.
The Russian man himself now said, “Khorosho.”
Zoya stood straight, all in black, her dark hair sweat-soaked and matted from the balaclava she’d dropped on the floor behind the desk. Her gloved hands were away from her body, and she looked across the bright room at five men. Three had dark hair, rifles pointed at her chest, and combat gear; one was an impressively tall and broad blond-haired figure in a leather jacket who seemed to be unarmed; and the fifth was a younger man wearing a dark goatee and a nice suit. He had a small pistol in his left hand, down by his side.
This man spoke to her in Russian, the same voice she’d heard before. “Step out, please.”
She had knives on her, but she wouldn’t go for them, and she had a revolver in an ankle holster, but she wouldn’t make a move for that, either. No, they had her. She’d comply and see where this went.
“Who are you?” she asked the Russian. “And who are they?”
“My name is Fox. I work for someone who wishes to speak with you.”
“Fox isn’t a Russian name.”
“It’s the name I’m prepared to give you.”
“Right,” Zoya said, and then she walked around the desk, her hands still up.
The three dark-haired men closed on her fast, spun her around, and pushed her facedown on the desk roughly. They frisked her with surprising skill, pulling off the two knives and throwing them onto the floor. One wrenched an arm behind her back, then reached for the other arm, but she held on to the desk’s edge so that he couldn’t move it.
They were going to be rough with her, and that meant she was going to be rough right back. It was her defiant nature; it had gotten her into trouble in the past, and if she took the time to be honest with herself now, she would have realized it was going to lead to trouble in the present.
But she held the desk firmly. Fuck these guys.
Another man began frisking her waistband, reaching under her crotch, squeezing, and then working his way down her left leg.
The .38 was on her right ankle, and she knew it would be detected within seconds.