Page 5 of Belgian Betrayal

Unknown: Make it out?

Catya: Who is this?

Unknown: Unwanted sidekick.

A frown pulled at Catya’s brow. Atkins

* * *

Catya: Where were you when the shit hit the fan?

Unknown: Got out.

Catya: Some backup

Unknown: You work alone

Catya: The man who left through the rear exit?

Unknown: Neutralized

Catya: The disk?

She’d only asked to see if he was aware of its existence. A long pause made her eyes narrow. He was aware.

Catya: ?

Unknown: They want it and will kill to get it.

Catya: Gia wanted me to get it back. You need to hand it over to me.

Unknown: Can’t. Warn your loved ones. They’ll use them as leverage. And ditch your phone. They can trace you.

Catya: Who are they?

She waited for his response. When none came, her gut knotted. A heavy feeling pressed against her chest.

She stared down at the last text from Atkins.

Warn your loved ones.

As an assassin, she didn’t let many people close. Only three came to mind.

Her parents comprised two of the three.

Her mother and father had relocated from Russia to Sentra, Portugal, changed their names and sank into anonymity when they’d walked away from their home country and spying careers, sick of killing and the direction Russian leadership had taken with the invasion of Ukraine. An only child, she’d been close to them. They’d taught her everything they knew about being sleeper agents, spies and, eventually, double agents.

Her mother had taken up painting, and her father had embraced gardening. He grew beautiful orchids.

Catya called her mother, knowing she’d respond even in the middle of the night. Though they’d retired, they didn’t let down their guard where she was concerned.

Her mother’s phone rang four times before her voicemail answered with a message in Portuguese.

Catya ended the call and tried her father’s number.

Again, the phone rang four times before his voicemail answered.

She left a message,

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