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terrorists recruited him to build a chemical weapon, leading him to think they were Russian authorities. But why did he take the job, Megan? Have you ever asked yourself that?”

Megan jerked her hand away. “I don’t care why! It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter. It matters because Pascha Koslov is a good man. A man in love with a woman who was dying and needed very expensive treatment.”

Megan frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Sparrow, Megan. Sparrow was Koslov’s girlfriend.”

The ambulance fell silent.

Kevin stomped on the brakes and pulled them into a parking spot next to the curb. “Edric!” he said. “Can you be in charge again?”

All eyes turned to Edric, who wheezed between busted lips.

Wolfgang held up a hand and kept talking, more quickly now. “Sparrow wasn’t a professional spy. She was just a go-between. The CIA couldn’t interact directly with Koslov without the Russians being alerted, right? So, how did Sparrow manage it? She managed it because Sparrow knew Koslov personally. The terrorists weren’t alarmed by her presence because they knew who she was.”

Kevin started to object, but Edric held up a hand and nodded at Wolfgang. “Keep going.”

“Koslov believed he was working for the Russian government, designing illegal weapons. He fed the CIA information for a while, but then he suddenly demanded extraction. Why?”

Megan shook her head. “Because he chickened out? It doesn’t matter. Wolfgang, we need—”

Wolfgang dug the metal tag he’d taken from Sparrow’s neck out of his pocket and flung it onto the stretcher. “He wanted to leave because his girlfriend, Sparrow, was dying. She had advanced cystic fibrosis. That tag is a medical tag used to identify her condition to emergency medical services, and when I found her in the detention cell, all the symptoms of CF were there. That’s how she died. Koslov probably went to work for the terrorists in order to pay for additional treatments that state-sponsored medical care wouldn’t cover, but when he discovered what sort of weapons they were building, he sold the information to the United States instead. Koslov needed money to cover Sparrow’s advanced medical treatment, and he wanted to stop the Russians. So, for a while, he sold secrets to the CIA, but then Koslov discovered that the people he was working for weren’t the Russians at all. They were terrorists planning an actual attack. That’s when he reached out to the CIA demanding immediate extraction.”

“He didn’t tell the CIA about the terrorists, though,” Edric said. “He withheld that.”

“He withheld it because he wanted bargaining power to get Sparrow out, also. The CIA probably planned to abandon Sparrow, proven by the fact that they pulled her handler two days ago. That’s when Koslov panicked and sent Sparrow to meet with Edric to arrange a deal. He didn’t know Ivan would follow her to Bar Gypsy.”

In the distance, sirens grew louder, and Kevin shoved the ambulance into drive again. “Edric, we’ve got to move.”

“Just drive west,” Wolfgang said. “Let me finish.”

“Why was Ivan following Sparrow?” Megan asked.

Wolfgang could hear the engagement in her voice. The buy-in.

“Because Ivan has been working leads to track down these terrorists for months, and somehow those leads led him to Sparrow,” he said. “Maybe he found the paper trail Koslov was feeding the CIA. I don’t know. Regardless, Ivan raided Bar Gypsy to take Sparrow, and his men took Edric because he was with her. I guess they didn’t check Sparrow’s tag, and the stress was too much for her. Cystic fibrosis reduces your lung capacity and cripples your ability to breathe. My guess is she had a panic attack and suffocated.”

“Tragic, really,” Kevin said. “What does that have to do with us?”

“It has everything to do with us,” Wolfgang said. “Koslov risked everything to protect the woman he loved, and when he learned about the Soldier Field attack, he risked even her to stop it. When the people he’s working for find out what happened, they’ll hunt him down and kill him. Ivan will deal with the terrorists, but we need to do what we came here to do. We need to save Pascha Koslov.”

“Where is he?” Edric said.

“Where he’s always been. At Sparrow’s apartment.” Wolfgang reached into his pocket and withdrew the photograph. It was worn and stained, just as he found it in Sparrow’s pocket. The washed-out color image depicted Sparrow and a tall man in wire-rimmed glasses holding each other outside an apartment building. In the distance, the Kremlin rose out of the cityscape, bathed in the blaze of a setting sun. They smiled into the camera, their warm eyes full of love and laughter, but Sparrow’s cheeks were hollow, and her body was frail, wracked by illness.

Wolfgang passed the photo to Edric. “That’s Koslov standing next to her, isn’t it?”

Edric gazed at the photo, then nodded.

“You can see the landmark in the background,” Wolfgang continued. “Neither Koslov nor Sparrow were professional spies. They didn’t have safe houses or know how to disappear in a crowded city. When they realized his life would be in danger, they hid him in the only place they could think of—her apartment. And that’s where he is right now, waiting for her, and for us, to come get him.”

Edric examined the photo, then passed it to Megan.

She gave it a quick glance, already shaking her head. “This is crazy. You’re connecting dots a mile apart. And this landmark is the Kremlin. The Kremlin. Does that name mean anything to you?”

Wolfgang ignored her. “I’m right, Edric. I know I am.”

Edric turned to Megan. She shook her head but didn’t comment, so he turned to Kevin. “When does the train leave?”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Two hours.”

“Then we have time?”

Megan started to speak, but Edric held up his hand. “Do we have time?”

Kevin nodded reluctantly.

“Okay, then. Let’s roll. Wolfgang, this better be quick.”

Sparrow’s apartment building was easily recognizable from the photograph. It was built of dirty brown bricks, with trash tubes dangling from chutes down into dumpsters and windows smudged

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