17
Yulia
“I have a new assignment for you,” Obenko says, walking into the kitchen of the safe house apartment.
Startled, I look up from my plate of cream-of-wheat kasha. “An assignment?”
Over the past week, my boss has been busy erasing all traces of UUR’s existence from the net and reassigning key agents to lower-profile operations whenever possible. He’s also been studiously ignoring me—which is why I’m surprised to see him here this morning.
Obenko takes a seat across from me at the table. “It’s in Istanbul,” he says. “As you know, the situation with Turkey and Russia is beginning to heat up, and we need someone on the ground.”
I consume another spoonful of kasha to give myself time to think. “What do you want me to do in Istanbul?” I ask after I swallow. I have no appetite—I have
