“So, what do you want to do about it now? Want to tell your story?”
He nodded imperceptibly. “In time—but for now, I’d like to focus on clearing the names of those agents. I can’t believe they did what they’re accused of doing. And if they did it, I’m sure there’s some reasonable explanation.”
“Reasonable explanation for picking off a bunch of leaders of the German banking industry? Perhaps you bumped your head,” she said.
He leaned forward in his chair. “Really? That’s how you’re going to treat me? I’m a damn hero for journalists and you want to make a comment like that?”
“You’re not a hero, Hendridge,” she said, eyeing him closely. “You’re a shill.”
“A shill? For who?”
She shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“Hell yeah, it matters. You think I’m making this stuff up.”
She bit her lip and thought for a moment. “Let’s just say you have a reputation around the newsroom for embellishing. And quite frankly, it wouldn’t surprise me if this whole story you’re pushing is, shall we say, enhanced.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Hendridge said as he stood. “I would never make up anything in print.”
“Maybe, but this hasn’t gone to print yet. You’ve never been the subject of intense scrutiny like this story will be sure to bring. If you try to peddle this fiction, plenty of people are going to try and poke holes in it. You’ll be found out.”
“Do you plan on being one of those people?”
“I plan on vetting this story just like any other. And we’re going to need multiple sources to verify it. I’m surely not about to run a first-person piece from you on your alleged kidnapping.”
“Alleged? Do you honestly think I would do this to myself?”
She laughed and waved him off. “Nothing your generation does surprises me any more. From the generation who made the vapid Kardashians famous, we have other people who will follow in their footsteps to gain fame, power, or wealth. And in your case, maybe all three.”
“If this is a joke, I don’t find it very funny. I almost died out there because I was just doing my job. Nobody else wanted this assignment. You only had one taker—and that was me, the only idiot brave enough to venture to the Middle East on this ridiculous assignment.”
She rubbed her forehead and picked up her phone, distracted by the vibrating pulses. For a few seconds, she stared at the screen before turning her attention back to Hendridge.
“This assignment wasn’t ridiculous. You just weren’t the journalist who was capable of pulling it off. You acted like it was some voyeuristic adventure instead of a serious professional assignment. It’s why you got caught—and it’s why you’ve returned to try and manufacture some story out of thin air.”
“I’m telling you right now that you’re wrong,” Hendridge said. “These people who saved me are the best of what’s right in this world right now, people who fight for justice with integrity and compassion.”
“My God, you sound like an Army advertisement. That’s not even close to anything I want to print, much less anything our readers would be interested in. Those people are criminals, probably helping you out to assuage their guilty consciences.”
Hendridge turned toward the door and stopped as he grabbed the handle, looking back over his shoulder at Carlisle. “You’re going to regret this. Everyone will want to know how The Times missed the greatest story of the month when it was right under their noses.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. “Just know when I fire you, no one will touch you or your story.”
Hendridge seethed as he exited the office.
I’m going to prove her wrong, even if it’s the last story I write.
CHAPTER 23
Paris, France
KATARINA PETROV GREETED Nestor Morozov with a traditional kiss to the side of each cheek and welcomed him into her penthouse suite high atop the city. It would’ve been considered rude not to treat the Russian ambassador in such a manner, and she was never so impolite. As they walked toward the balcony, the lights winked across the cityscape, giving off the kind of energy Petrov thrived upon. Something was happening, and it was well overdue. She’d spent nearly two decades laboring to guide The Chamber to this point where the organization could become the leading entity among a new consortium of nations. But Petrov never forgot where her true alliances rested—mother Russia.
She picked up a drink off the table and offered one to Morozov. He accepted it and thanked her.
“How does it feel to stand on the cusp of greatness?” he asked her.
“I don’t know,” she said. “How about you tell me?”
Morozov took a long pull on his glass of wine and then set it down on the ledge. “What you’ve done is truly amazing. Every little detail considered and planned for. You are the master architect behind all of this, and the only genius I consider greater at the moment is the one who put you in charge.”
She sighed. “Too bad he won’t be around to see his dream realized.”
“I’m sure your father is still proud of you, looking down upon all your accomplishments.”
Petrov wagged her finger at him. “Don’t celebrate just yet. There’s still plenty of work to be done.”
“Yes, but I see it all coming together—the narrative about the failing wheat crops—”
“While Russia’s remains strong.”
“And how oil production is falling as uncertainty builds among OPEC nations.”
“But production is surging to all-time highs off the Siberian coast.”
In a show of admiration, Mozorov shook his head and looked off in the distance before turning his gaze back toward Petrov. “Your patience is something to wonder at. All these years doing what you did—you have embodied the long con.”
“It’s not difficult when you believe in the cause.”
Mozorov chuckled. “So much so that you even married an American.”
She shrugged. “He was ruggedly handsome, which made it palatable.”
“Yes, well, he also got you pregnant.”
“That was my mistake, perhaps the only one.”
“But you’re still planning on redeeming that
