Page 30 of Smoke and Shadows

“Good. Then I suggest you strip.” Viktor set her from him and immediately yanked her sweater over her head. “Better yet, let me help you.”

6

“Ms. Cole’sassailant is a Syrian national,” Tim told the group after identifying the man. “He came into the country a few weeks ago. I believe he came in with this other guy, Yusuf Ali. Ali is a United States citizen who left for Syria six months ago.”

Viktor had dragged her to an early 8:00 a.m. meeting at AGS. Marissa wasn’t surprised that he had shut the trapdoor once again on his emotions. Acting like he had not just bared his deepest, darkest secret to her the night before, Viktor shoved a to-go cup of coffee in her hand and ushered her out of his building forty-five minutes after he had woken her up. He’d been succinct in speech and economical in actions. In short, he was very Viktor. Although, he had held her hand while they traversed the light Sunday morning traffic from New Park to Washington DC. Once they had arrived at AGS HQ, he was business as usual. He walked beside her, but held himself at an impersonal distance as though they had not just spent a whole night intimately together. And Marissa found herself relieved with this reprieve from his attentions; professionalism was still in his dictionary.

“Do we know their affiliations?” Marissa asked.

Tim clucked and nodded for Holly to change the screen. “They belong to a Syrian communist party. It’s a minor player compared to Nasir’s political party and the ruling Ba’ath.”

“Or they may be trying to appear minor,” Viktor said thoughtfully. “The Syrian communist party has its roots in the Reformists Communist Party of Russia . . . and damn it!” Understanding dawned quickly on Viktor’s face and he wasn’t happy.

“And RCPR is linked to the NKUF,” Marissa glanced at Holly who was frowning. “It’s the National Korean Unification Front. We have to bring in your friend, Viktor.”

“No.”

“Are you waiting for someone else to die?” Marissa challenged.

Viktor glanced at her sharply. “Don’t start, Ms. Cole.”

“I wasn’t. I don’t need to.”

She and Viktor had a silent conversation that was, quite frankly, fairly accurate.

If they had gotten to me, would you have gone to Matsuda?

They didn’t get to you, so that’s not even a question.

But they could have.

“Fucking drop it!” Viktor growled, causing Tim and Holly to jump.

Marissa quirked a brow and shrugged. “Just wondering.”

“Er . . . do you guys want me to continue, or do both of you need a moment?” Tim asked.

“Stop being a smart ass,” Viktor said. “What else do you have, Burns?”

“I’ve sent Guardians to Ali’s apartment.”

“Anything on the money trail? Phone records?”

“Nothing. They’re using cash and disposable cell phones.”

“Probably burn phones, too,” Marissa muttered. “These are grunts. We already suspect Rafiq could be behind this, but does the buck end with him?”

“Rafiq’s father wasn’t affiliated with the communist party.Mustafa Shadid was with an Islamist separatist group. Whole thing doesn’t add up,” Tim said.

“We need to concentrate on Rafiq Shadid,” Viktor said.

Marissa watched the subtle changes on Viktor’s face and knew that look. He was deep in thought and he had already pieced together the puzzle, but he wasn’t sharing. It irked her that he would withhold information from her when agents were dying.

“If you know something, Baran, you better start talking,” Marissa addressed him icily.

His eyes flickered over her briefly. “I’m not at liberty to divulge classified information.”

“Well, de-classify it! I’m the fucking CIA, Baran. My clearance outranks yours.”

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