Red Widow by Alma Katsu (good books to read for beginners txt) 📗

friend, finally taking the woman up on her offer of a playdate, and spent the rest of the hour running a surveillance detection route. It was short, too short, but that was all she had time for.

She sat in the rental car two blocks from the National Cathedral and fought back the panic that now surged through her in waves. Am I really going to go through with this? What if run into someone I know? The wig wouldn’t fool anyone for more than a minute. This is madness. But she knew that if the Russians showed up and she didn’t, then it would be over. There would be no second chances. After the terror had subsided and she was awash in regret, she would wonder her entire life if she’d made a mistake. Every time she looked into Brian’s face, she’d wonder if she could’ve given him his father back.

She took a deep breath and opened the car door.

She walked into the cathedral’s gift shop prepared for disappointment, but there was Evgeni Constantinov by a rack of greeting cards. Up close, he looked just like his file picture, which was in itself a minor miracle, because spies never looked the same in person. The photos were usually years out of date, rarely updated. They always ended up looking older in real life than you expected, especially around the eyes. Exhausted and cynical.

A nervous-looking man in an ill-fitting suit on the other side of the shop was obviously with Constantinov, which meant there were undoubtedly several more she hadn’t spotted out on the grounds watching for FBI. Theresa’s brain crackled with conflicting emotions. Disbelief, that they had come as she’d asked, that they had taken her seriously. Worry, that despite her intense effort to lose any tail, she had been followed and FBI would swoop down on them any second. And, lastly, excitement, because she was doing something that had been long forbidden to her, like a schoolgirl finally trying her hand at shoplifting. It’s never as bad or scary as you think it will be.

She headed to the herb garden after making sure Constantinov was following. The hedges on the paths were shoulder height, providing good cover, and the thick foliage would absorb sound. They wouldn’t be overheard, accidentally or otherwise. The garden was usually popular with tourists but it was unseasonably chilly for June and the only other occupant was an elderly priest in a rumpled raincoat. He flicked a cigarette butt to the ground before disappearing into the main building.

It was important to set the tone, she knew, to let the Russians know that she could not be jerked around. They had to see that she wasn’t the usual turncoat, deep in trouble and desperate for money. What she wanted was very, very specific. “I’m glad you took my note seriously. I don’t have time to waste,” she said to Constantinov in a low, even voice.

He made a scoffing sound in his throat. “It doesn’t matter if you are in a hurry. There are still steps that must be taken, a protocol to follow.” The Russian obviously wanted to take control of the situation. That’s what any case officer would do, she knew, but she was through with letting someone else lead.

She turned to face him. “Let’s cut to the chase. Your superiors are going to want to talk to me. Do you know who I am?” Constantinov looked uncomfortable, which pleased her. He was losing control and didn’t like it, but at the same time he was afraid of making a mistake. “I’m Theresa Warner. Richard Warner’s wife. He’s a CIA officer sitting in one of your jails. You wouldn’t have heard of him. It’s a very sensitive case. There’s been a big cover-up, both here and in Russia. Richard Warner—give that name to your bosses. They’ll know who he is.”

Constantinov edged away from her slightly as though she were mad. Did he not believe her? That was okay: he’d believe her soon enough. “And if this is true, what is it you think I can do for you?”

“I’m prepared to provide your organization with secrets in exchange for his release.”

“You need to be more specific.”

“I’m a CIA officer. I can get my hands on anything. I’ll make it worthwhile. But this will be a one-time exchange. I will give you secrets, and you will release my husband, and then we’ll disappear. Moscow will leave us alone—that’s part of the bargain, too.”

He thought for a moment. “Moscow perhaps, but what about Washington? Your own people will come after you.”

“That’s my concern.” On this point, she’d be firm: she wanted nothing more to do with either side. She’d only trust herself from now on, her and Richard. “So, no disrespect to you, but I want to speak to someone high up at the next meeting, someone with authority.”

He crooked an eyebrow. He wanted to tell her she was in no position to be making demands. They would decide who would deal with her. The Russians didn’t run their assets like the Americans; they were more stick than carrot, a part of their authoritarian culture that ran through their psyches like a fat vein of ore. “I will see about setting up this meeting,” he said finally, grudgingly. “But you must show us what you have to offer. You must give us a sample, prove that you can deliver.” She nodded; she had expected this.

They set up a way for him to contact her when the meeting was set. He looked skeptical but now that they’d bitten, they’d follow through, she was sure of it. Chances like these didn’t fall in their laps every day. Theresa went back to her rental car, shaking, unable to believe what she had done. She had gone toe-to-toe with a Russian officer. There was something primitive about it, like two animals squaring off in the forest, fang and claw. He had wanted to snap her up and gobble her down like some