And then, for the first time in a long span of years, she began to cry.
Chapter Nineteen
Florin was just finishing his drink when he heard a door close across the house. Moments later, soft footsteps padded up the stairs, and his host approached. He stood and embraced the man, kissing him on the cheeks. “Vasilly, how are you?”
Vasilly was a tall man, his skin olive, his nose long and crooked, his black beard thick, combed, and well-oiled. He wore leather sandals, loose-fitting cotton pants, and a thin button-down shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows.
“Good, my friend. I trust you had a pleasant trip.”
“I did.” Florin returned to his place on the couch, his host taking a seat at the other end. “Have you made any progress?”
“Kathleen is not talking yet,” Vasilly said. “But we are almost there.”
“What has taken so long? I do not doubt you, but I need Simon now. If we wait another few hours, it will be too late. You, of all people, understand that.”
“We had an initial setback where the timeline was concerned. Kathleen suffered an allergic reaction to the sedative we gave her. She slept for almost half a day. That was most unexpected.”
Florin frowned. “But she is coherent? She can remember what we need her to?”
“Yes. She is clear headed.” Vasilly glanced at his watch. “I will have Luganov’s location in fifty-four minutes.”
“How can you be sure?”
Vasilly studied his friend. “You are anxious. Stop being anxious and trust me.”
Florin sighed and forced a smile. “I am anxious. If this comes back to me, if Kathleen’s disappearance is traced to me in any way—”
“That is why you employed my services, Florin. She will never see your face, will never know you were a part of this. As for the authorities, they will never find her. You came to me because you needed the best there is, Florin. So relax. These things take a little time.”
“Time is the one thing I’m short on right now.”
Vasilly extended an arm toward the other end of the house. “You are welcome to try for yourself if you would like.”
Florin waved him off. “No. I trust you. Of course, I trust you. But so much is riding on this. If I have Luganov, all my problems go away.”
“And if you don’t?”
“Then my problems compound daily. How can you be sure you will have his location in an hour?”
Vasilly produced his phone, tapped the screen, and handed it across the couch to Florin. “That is Kathleen’s daughter. Her foster daughter to be precise. But to her, there is no difference.”
Florin’s eyes brightened. “And you have someone who will get the daughter?”
“Not get. More like, remove. Take care of. You understand.”
Florin handed the phone back and sighed his relief. “That is good. Very good. And whoever took these pictures, they cannot be traced to you?”
Vasilly waved him off. “Encrypted servers were used, and I submitted the job on the dark web using untraceable email. I know what I’m doing, Florin. I am the one taking all the risk, and I understand the consequences of being caught with someone like Kathleen.”
Florin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “How did she respond when you showed her the pictures?”
“It was a pleasure of sorts to watch the color leave her face.”
“This is good, Vasilly. Very good work.”
“I am glad you are pleased.”
Both men stood up and shook hands. Vasilly said, “Stay for a little while. At least until I have what you want. Then we can share a celebratory drink. For now, I must tend to something else.” He motioned to the sideboard. “In the meantime, please, keep your glass full.”
Vasilly took his leave of the room, and Florin took his time selecting a different poison, finally settling on a Kentucky bourbon. He poured two more fingers, replaced the stopper on the decanter, and stepped up to the window.
He couldn't believe his fortune. In less than a week, a situation that he would have sworn had no chance of a positive outcome had just rectified itself. And it never would have happened if he had not taken the time to go to Nice and clear his head. The solution did not come in the form of clear thinking as he hoped it would; rather, it came in the form of an old associate.
Florin recalled Mikhail coming aboard his yacht and reminding him of the dire situation he was in. And it was not half an hour later that Florin saw Kathleen window shopping on the streets of Nice’s fashion district. That was the moment the solution had come to him like a perfectly completed tapestry, all the necessary connections converging to create a single perfected image.
Florin thought back to the genesis of it all. After shorting Tanzania's currency with Mikhail and leaving his post with Romania’s Foreign Intelligence, Florin spent the next several years investing in tech startups, oil exploration, and the newly emerging cryptocurrency markets. Over time and with much patience, he turned thirty million into three hundred million.
Not long after that, Simon Luganov defected from Russia, leaving behind a scientific legacy that virtually no one in Russia could interpret. Luganov was absolutely brilliant, and only two other scientists, a Canadian and a German, were said to be capable of turning his research into marketable technology. Russia was not willing to hand off such science to just anyone. They kept it back from the international scientific community and continued to push their own scientists to attempt to finish what Luganov had begun.
Florin’s foray into it all came when a Romanian scientist approached him with an offer. He’d heard that Florin liked to invest in forward-thinking projects. This man’s proposal was simple but bold. If Florin could get copies of all of Luganov’s research, the scientist could fill
