Page 15 of Call Sign: King
Logging into their private EVN, Ryder went through the complex safety protocols his crack team of technologists had designed to keep the Black Sky Ops global communication network secure from hackers. He was grateful to have Bing and his team in D.C. onboard, making even the most cutting-edge technology easy enough for Ryder to navigate.
“You’re looking good,” Brandon said as soon as the video link was live.
“Thanks. You’re looking tired,” Ryder shot back truthfully.
“Yeah, well I still have to work for a living. I don’t have Santa Clause paying me the big bucks like you do,” Webster countered.
“Hey, I resent that. I earn every fucking penny me and my team work for. We aren’t just sitting around chain smoking all day like you.”
Ryder’s mention of his smokes had Brandon reaching for his pack.
Watching him light up made Ryder chuckle. “I love how you basically tell the brass to fuck off when it comes to the smoke-free office policy.”
“Fuck that shit. This job is too stressful to go smoke free.”
Ryder didn’t disagree, although he was happy, he’d never picked up the shitty habit.
“So, you got me here. What’s on your mind,” Ryder asked, still unsure about why Brandon had asked for the meeting.
“I know you’re going to say no, but you need to hear me out.”
“No.”
“But I haven’t…”
Ryder cut him off. “You know me. If you know I’m gonna say no, why bother?”
Brandon leaned forward toward the camera. “Because it’s important and I need your help.”
“I help you all the fucking time. Just last month I took care of that problem down in Brazil for you and your South America counterpart.”
“And I appreciate it. Unfortunately, my problem this time is in Warsaw.”
Ryder held up his hand to visibly show his resistance to hearing another word. Unfortunately, Brandon barged ahead.
“I need your specific skills. No one on your European team has the language skills and the age and experience to pull this one off. You practically lived in Poland when you weren’t in Moscow.”
“Exactly. Nicolai Romanovski is dead, and we’re going to keep it that way.”
“I don’t need Nicolai… not exactly. You can take any cover you want. I just need someone to get on the inside of what we are pretty sure is a Russian sleeper cell. I need someone who can pass as a native Polish truck driver to start making deliveries and then listen in on the Russian assholes on the inside without them knowing you speak Russian.”
“You don’t need me. Just get someone to bug the place, and then your ears can translate far away.”
“Don’t you think I’ve tried that?” Brandon puffed on his cancer stick. “I’ve already lost one agent, and what little information she was able to dig up—before we found her chopped up in small pieces—was that they have a fortress underground where absolutely no electronic signals can get in or out. It sounds a lot like your place down in Texas.”
Ryder didn’t say it out loud, but it reminded him more like the conclave in the basement of the Volkov estate — the location of his last mission as a CIA agent. Just thinking about the fucked-up shit he’d witnessed there made his stomach churn.
“I’m not going back into Europe. Not now, not ever,” he said with the conviction of a man desperate to keep the love of his life safe. “Every day that goes by puts more distance between me and my past enemies and I want to keep it that way.”
“I get that, but there are whispers that this cell might have ties back to the Volkovs. I thought you wanted us to keep tabs on them.”
“That’s all the more reason for me not to get involved. The risks of being recognized are too high. I won’t do it.”
“Dammit, Helms.”
Ryder pushed back. “You have a whole team of agents you could tap for this job. You don’t fucking need me.”
“With Russia’s recent aggressions, the region is exploding with fires. I can’t staff up and train agents fast enough to investigate even half of the tips coming in. You know better than anyone how long it takes to get the language, dialect, and socio-political training in before throwing an agent into that mess.”
