Page 94 of The Blonde Who Came in from the Cold
“That is not my worry.”
Kozlov drew a heavy breath. He sounded... tired. And old. Computers and data migrations were of no interest to Viktor Kozlov. He was a spy’s spy. A man from another time. He was like Merritt, Alex realized. And the thought made her homesick.
“We have a spy in our midst, Sergei. A traitor.A mole.” Kozlov sounded furious but also... excited? Like he was back on familiar turf—they were getting the band back together and his covert glory days weren’t over yet.
“How can you know?”
Alex watched Kozlov’s legs move toward the shelves. His voice was full of wonder when he said, “I have collected many things.” The old man opened the glass doors and moved his trinkets around like they were action figures or porcelain dolls. “I once had a ring that was used by the greatest spy to ever live. Did I tell you?”
Sergei hummed in a way that sounded likeThis again?but the word he uttered was—“No.”
“In the old days, there was one prize that was coveted above all others:the double agent.”
Alex hadn’t moved in minutes, and yet it felt like she froze—timefroze. The whole world froze except for Kozlov.
“Things were civilized in those days. There was honor amongspies, and if you could get one to turn and work for you, it was the greatest achievement. Double agents were rare and they were legend. I have long wanted one of my own.” He pulled a can of shaving cream off the shelf, unscrewed the false bottom, and pulled out a key. “He has told me the most interesting things.”
Alex couldn’t feel her hands. She couldn’t feel her feet. She couldn’t feel anything but terror because there was one thing she knew for certain:
Kozlov didn’t justwanta double agent.
Kozlovhadone.
“I see,” Sergei said slowly. “Shall I bring the girl to you now or—”
“No,” Kozlov cut him off. “She could still be useful to us. We must be careful of her, though. She is dangerous.”
Then Kozlov slid the key into a tiny gap in the stones beside the case and turned. The case slid open, and the two men disappeared inside, but Alex didn’t move. She barely breathed. She just sat there thinking—
You have no idea.
***
Thirty minutes later, Kozlov’s data was on a flash drive, and the flash drive was in Alex’s bra, and she was almost to the garage when she heard a voice behind her.
“Alex?” It was darker and lower than when she’d first heard it. But, then again, so was Sawyer. “Hey.” He inched toward her, knowing something was wrong because Sawyer was good. He’d always been good.
Except what if he wasn’t? What if he was very, very bad, and Alex didn’t want to think about the possibility. He’d been her only friend—her only ally—for five years. He was the only person for a thousand miles that she could trust, but—
He has told me the most interesting things.
“What’s wrong?” Sawyer glanced behind her, making sure they were alone. There were no cameras in that stretch of hallway. No guards.
No witnesses.
“Hey. You’re scaring me,” he said, and Alex forced a laugh.
“Not scared. Disappointed.”
“But—”
“Kozlov didn’t go to the lake house,” she said. “He and Sergei are up to something. We’re gonna have to do it another time.”
“Oh.” Sawyer ran a hand through his dark hair. He looked tired and worn—like paper in a very old book, faded and thin, but she could still read him.
“Sorry you got out of bed for nothing.”
“That’s okay. I don’t sleep, remember?”
