At sixty-one, there weren’t many things left in this world that truly moved General Sergei Izotov.
War was one of them.
And revenge was another.
The early morning flight to Cuba was thankfully brief — because during the entire time Major Alice Dennison wrung her hands and couldn’t stop trembling.
Her pulse raced as she was escorted through security, and by the time she reached the interrogation room, she was sweating profusely and had to excuse herself to the bathroom.
She splashed cold water over her face, glanced up in the mirror. “Be strong.”
A minute later, she was escorted inside the interrogation room, where Colonel Pavel Doletskaya was waiting for her, his hands and legs shackled, head lowered.
She took a seat across from him, plopped the file she’d been carrying on the table.
His nose crinkled. “You smell very nice, Major.”
“Look at me.”
He raised his head, eyes weary, face still unshaven. “Have you been crying?”
“No.”
“Your makeup—”
“Forget my makeup. I’m going to get you out of here.”
He hoisted his brows, the color returning to his cheeks. “Where are we going?”
“Away from here.”
“I kind of like it.”
“Especially the food, right?”
He grinned and glanced away. “So you’ve reconsidered my offer?”
“Shut up, Colonel. Look at this.”
She shoved the file toward him. He glanced down at it. “Interesting. A pity I can’t open it.”
She’d forgotten he’d been handcuffed and rose, opened the file, then placed the photograph on the table.
“This image comes from surveillance footage taken two days ago in Banff. That’s in Alberta, Canada.”
“My God…”
“Yes, she cut her hair, but she’s still alive, isn’t she?”
The colonel was beginning to hyperventilate.
“Calm down. I’m getting you out of here so you can help us find her — before your friends at the GRU do. She double-crossed them and the Green Brigade. She could be working for another organization more powerful than any we’ve encountered. Colonel, are you listening?”
He stared long and hard at the photograph, reaching out to it with his eyes. Eventually he looked up at her, those eyes now brimming with tears. “Yes, I will help you.”
Dennison called for the guards to open the door.
Outside, she dialed a number on her satellite phone. “Hello, Mr. President. He’s in. And no, I didn’t tell him everything. We’ll take it one step at a time.”