The Russian's Greed by Cap Daniels (feel good books to read .TXT) 📕

officials. It’s called criminal sympathy, and we simplycan’t let ourselves fall into that trap. Think of it like this. Howmany people did you kill on the orders of your superiors while youwere an SVR officer?

Anya bowed her head. “Ido not wish to tell you this number.”

Gwynn nodded. “Okay,that’s fine. Just tell me if it’s a one-digit or two-digitnumber.”

Anya looked up. “Istwo digits, but when I put with it the number I have killed whileworking for American government, it is three digits.”

Gwynn swallowed theuncomfortable lump in her throat in an effort to continue making herpoint. “Okay, three digits. So, anyway, how many times did youdisobey and not kill a target because they had children or family whowould suffer because of their loss?”

Anya’s face turnedpale. “This is very different thing.”

“No, it isn’t. It’sthe same thing. We’re a nation of laws, and without those laws,anarchy would destroy us.”

“Yes, of course, Iunderstand this, but this little girl wants to be American. She isbrilliant dancer who will one day be famous in Russia, but shedoesn’t care about that. She only wants to come to this country.”

“You’re projecting,Anya. You’re seeing yourself in this little girl, and you believeyou can undo the wrong of what you were forced to endure as a childby protecting Anya Volkov.”

Anya groaned. “Thisis not true.”

“Yes, it is. That’sexactly what’s happening.”

“Yes, of course, youare right about this, but you are not correct about girl’s name. IsAnya Volkovna. Volkov is name for boy, and Volkovna is name forgirl.”

Gwynn almost laughed.“Here we go with the failed communication thing again.”

Anya swallowed the lastof her tea and stood.

Gwynn cleared herthroat. “You can’t quit.”

“Yes, I can. This isagreement with Agent White.”

“No, Anya. AgentWhite never said you had the option of quitting when you wanted.”

“Yes, he did. He toldme I would do this thing or go to American prison. If I go to prison,Anya Volkovna will not suffer, but if her uncle goes to prison, thiswill mean she has lost both men—you call them father figures—inher life, and that is terrible for a little girl. Good night, SpecialAgent Davis.”

Gwynn bit her jaw.“Good night, Captain Anastasia Burinkova.”

Anya glared at herpartner before making her way to her bedroom.

* * *

When she awoke the nextmorning, Anya heard the familiar voice of Supervisory Special AgentRay White, and she suddenly dreaded what lay ahead.

A shower did little torelieve her dread, but she’d postponed the inevitable as long aspossible. She pulled her hair into a ponytail as she stepped into theliving room. “Good Sunday morning, Ray. I think you should be atchurch, no?”

“Oh, so it’s Rayand not Agent White now?”

“Is only my attemptto make this morning comfortable. I know why you are here.”

“If Agent Davis iscorrect, I’m here to arrest you. How comfortable does that sound?”

Anya held out her handsas if ready for the handcuffs, but Ray motioned to the sofa. “Sitdown, and tell me what’s going on.”

She did as he orderedand laid out the story just as she’d done for Gwynn the nightbefore.

White listenedintently, then leaned toward the Russian. “Listen closely, Anya. Aguy we’ll call Bill Smith had his brother killed in cold blood andthen fled Canada for the United States. He became the biggest carthief in Chicago and sent piles of cash back to Montreal to hismurdered brother’s widow and child out of guilt for what he’ddone. I caught this bastard eighteen years ago while I was based outof the Chicago field office and sent him to prison for ten years.After he served his sentence here, he was deported back to Canada,where he was tried and convicted for the crime of having his brotherslaughtered. He’s now serving a life sentence under the watchfuleye of the Canucks. Should I have patted him on the ass and let himgo instead of arresting him?”

Anya let her eyes fallshut and sighed. “This is not real story. There is FBI field officein Chicago, but no Department of Justice field office there.”

“DOJ agents oftenfind themselves temporarily assigned to the FBI.”

“This is also lie,”Anya said, “but it does not have to be true to make your point.”

White lowered his chinand focused on Anya. “My point isn’t what you think, but youinterrupted before I could finish. If my story about Chicago had beentrue, I would’ve told you how I made arrangements with the StateDepartment to have Bill Smith’s brother’s widow and orphanedchild brought to the States and set up in a great little house on theedge of the Rocky Mountains, where the child learned to ski and wontwo Olympic gold medals wearing the American flag on her shirt.”

Anya felt the edges ofher lips turn upward in the slightest hint of a smile. “Does thismean Anya and her mother can come to America and she can dance withNew York Ballet Company?”

White sat back in hischair. “No, that’s not what it means. It means if you and yourgirlfriend in there put Viktor Volkov in prison and figure out whathe did to get his brother killed, ballerina Anya can dance with anycompany she wants right here in America, and maybe you can give herone of those little plastic American flags you love to carry around.”

A suspicious look ofdoubt came over Anya. “Do you have power to do this thing?

Ray shook his head.“No, I can’t get that girl a spot on a ballet company, but I canget her and her mother here and on a path to citizenship. But only ifyou and your tea wench do your job and put Volkov where he belongs .. . in a federal prison cell.

Anya said, “I will dothis for you, but only on one condition.”

White scowled. “Youdon’t get to make conditions, especially now that you’ve gone allsofthearted on us.”

She smiled. “I thinkthis is acceptable condition. I am hungry and would like to havepancakes. The kind of pancakes you made for me in your home inGeorgetown.”

19

MYIDEM NA RABOTU

(OFF TO WORK WE GO)

Monday morning dawnedto find Anya Burinkova, the belle of the ball at Saturday night’sperformance at Lincoln Center, dressed in blue jeans, a T-shirt, anda hooded sweatshirt. Her driver held open the car door at preciselyeight thirty,