Page 77 of Bride of Vengeance
Boris approaches, his expression grim. "We have a problem."
My body goes rigid. "What kind of problem?"
"Rodriguez. He's been asking questions, moving contacts, trying to find Mariana. He's getting close. He could represent a serious interference."
Mariana tenses. "Rodriguez wouldn't—"
"He's in love with you," I state flatly. "Love makes people do unexpected things."
"He's a good agent."
"Who thinks you've been corrupted by the dangerous criminal who kidnapped you." Boris hands me a tablet showing intercepted communications. "He's convinced you're being coerced. And he wants to 'save' you."
I read through Rodriguez's messages, my jaw clenching tighter with each word. He's painting himself as the hero, me as the villain, and Mariana as the damsel in distress who needs rescuing.
"He could compromise the entire operation," Alexei says. "If he shows up tomorrow—"
"He won't," I say with certainty. "Boris, have someone distract him. Nothing permanent, just... detained."
"Mikhail, you can't kidnap a federal agent," Mariana protests.
"I'm not kidnapping him. I'm ensuring he doesn't get himself killed trying to play hero. I know you won't forgive yourself if something happens to him tomorrow." I hand the tablet back to Boris. "Twenty-four hours. Comfortable but secure."
Boris nods and disappears.
"He's going to be furious," Mariana says.
"Better furious than dead. You know Harrison would kill him without hesitation if he interfered."
She doesn't argue because she knows I'm right. Rodriguez's misguided protection would only make things worse.
Mila approaches with a small device. "Final wire check. Mariana, this goes... well, somewhere Harrison won't think to check."
"Where?"
"Your bra. The transmitter is tiny, looks like an underwire. Even if he has you searched, they won't find it."
"And if they use electronic detection?"
"Then they'll find every cell phone, computer, and electronic device in a three-block radius," Mila grins. "I may have arranged some interference. Every metal detector and scanner in that building will go haywire at exactly 2 PM tomorrow."
"That's when the meeting is," Mariana realizes.
"Coincidence," Mila says innocently.
Despite everything, my wife laughs. "I'm starting to see the family resemblance."
"We're Russian," I tell her. "We don't do anything halfway."
"I've noticed."
The rest of the day passes in final preparations. By evening, we've run through the plan six times. Every contingency has been addressed, every variable accounted for.
Except one.
"What if he doesn't confess?" Mariana asks as we lie in bed that night, her head on my chest. "What if he's too smart?"
"Then we go with Plan B."
