The Russian's Sloth: Avenging Angel - Seven Deadly Sins Book #5 by Cap Daniels

Author:Cap Daniels [Daniels, Cap]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Anchor Watch Publishing, L.L.C.
Published: 2023-09-24T16:00:00+00:00

16

Ostrova v Potoke

(Islands in the Stream)

Back in DC, Johnny Mac steepled his fingers behind the desk he claimed as his. “First, I don’t believe you that Agent White said for me to get out of your way, but I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what we should do next. I’ve come up with a plan that’s sort of a hybrid of the two extremes we discussed before our little field trip to Switzerland.”

Anya perked up. “Maybe he did not say exactly what I told you, but I was—what is word?—paraphrasing.”

Johnny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I figured. Anyway, here’s the plan. We’re going to approach Anatoly Asimov and cut him in. There’s no way for us to know exactly what his agreement is with Morozov, but he’s in the business of buying and selling art. I’m quite certain he understands commissions. We’ll buy his cooperation.”

“What if this does not work?”

“If this doesn’t work,” Johnny said, “I’ll get out of your way.”

This brought an enormous smile to Anya’s face. “Do we know where he is?”

Johnny opened a file on his desk. “We don’t know exactly where he is today, but he has dinner reservations for Tuesday night at Canlis in Seattle.”

Gwynn said, “It looks like we’re moving from one Washington to another.”

Johnny checked his watch. “Get packed, tidy up any strings you’ve got dangling here in DC, and we’ll be wheels up at nine tomorrow morning.”

“What about Celeste?” Anya asked.

Johnny said, “I’ll brief her, and she’ll be on the plane, also.” He turned to Gwynn. “And before you ask, Tom is packing, too. He’ll meet us there.”

Anya stuck out her bottom lip. “I am only person without date. Perhaps Anatoly is lonesome.”

* * *

At precisely 9:00 a.m., the wheels of the federal government jet left the runway with two crewmen, three special agents, two electronics technicians, and one Mankiller. They touched down four hours later at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, where a pair of black SUVs waited on the tarmac. As they descended the stairs, two men stepped from the SUVs, and Anya chuckled. “I think those two could not look any more like FBI agents.”

Gwynn joined her friend in laughter. “I think you’re right. They could’ve been sent over from central casting in Hollywood.”

“Cut it out, ladies.” Johnny stepped past them and stuck out his hand. “Johnny McIntyre.”

The two agents shook hands and introduced themselves. “If you wreck our Suburbans, it’s coming out of your budget.”

“Noted,” Johnny said. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ve got work to do.”

They spent ten minutes loading their gear into the Suburbans and climbed inside. Arrangements had been made for a pair of adjoining apartments just north of the Space Needle, and it didn’t take long for the team to settle in. By nightfall, the second apartment looked more like an operations center than a residence, and the techs had all three of Anatoly Asimov’s cell phones under surveillance.

Anya and Gwynn watched the tracking screen as the three phones left dry land and seemingly hovered over Puget Sound.

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