THE INTERROGATOR

The Dinner

The main hall of the Orlov compound was a cathedral of excess. Crystal chandeliers hung from a ceiling painted with cherubs and clouds. A table that could seat forty stretched across the room, covered in white linen and silver candelabras. Servants moved silently between the guests, refilling glasses and clearing plates.

Cole sat near the head of the table, directly across from Sergei Orlov.

The eldest son was handsome in a polished, dangerous way. Dark hair swept back from a sharp face. A tailored suit that cost more than most people's cars. His smile was warm, but his eyes were cold. Calculating. The eyes of a man who was always looking for an angle.

"So," Sergei said, raising his glass of wine, "you're the famous interrogator. My father speaks highly of you."

"Your father is generous," Cole replied.

"He's rarely generous. He's usually calculating. He gives you something because he wants something in return." Sergei took a sip of his wine. "So tell me. What does my father want from you?"

"Sergei." Konstantin's voice cut through the conversation like a blade. "That's enough."

"I'm just curious, Father. We don't usually invite outsiders to family dinners. Especially not former government agents."

The table fell silent. All eyes were on Cole. He could feel their gazes like weights pressing against his skin. He didn't flinch.

"I'm here to help the family," Cole said calmly. "That's all."

"Help the family." Sergei's smile widened. "And what do you get in return?"

"Sergei." Konstantin's voice was harder now. "I won't warn you again."

Sergei held up his hands in mock surrender. "Of course, Father. My apologies." He turned back to Cole. "I look forward to working with you, Mr. Brennan. I'm sure we'll have many interesting conversations."

The rest of the meal passed in a blur of polite conversation and veiled threats. Cole watched everyone at the table. Ivan Tarasov, sitting rigidly at the far end, his eyes never leaving Cole. Katya Volodina, seated near the middle, her expression unreadable. Dimitri Orlov, Konstantin's younger son, quiet and observant, saying nothing but absorbing everything.

And then there was Maria Tarasova, Ivan's wife. She sat beside her husband, her face a mask of cold resentment. Cole noticed the way she looked at Ivan. The hatred in her eyes. The barely contained fury.

She was a woman with secrets.

After the meal, Cole excused himself and stepped out onto the terrace. The night air was cool against his skin. The city lights glittered in the distance, a thousand points of light in the darkness.

He heard footsteps behind him. He didn't turn.

"You should be careful around Sergei," a voice said. It was Dimitri Orlov. The younger son.

Cole turned to face him. Dimitri was smaller than his brother, quieter, more unassuming. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and a simple suit. He looked like an accountant. Which, Cole knew, he was.

"Should I?" Cole asked.

Dimitri moved closer. "My brother has a habit of making enemies. And he has a habit of making those enemies disappear."

"Are you warning me?"

"I'm giving you advice." Dimitri's eyes were sharp behind his glasses. "You're new here. You don't know the players. But you're smart enough to learn. That's why my father hired you."

"He hired me to find a mole."

"The mole is the least of your problems." Dimitri lowered his voice. "There are forces at work in this family that go beyond a simple informant. My brother is building something. An alliance. And it's not with the Feds."

Cole felt a chill. "Who is he working with?"

Dimitri's expression was unreadable. "Someone who wants to destroy everything my father has built. Someone who's been planning for years. And when they're ready, they'll burn this family to the ground."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I don't want to see my father die." Dimitri's voice was tight. "He's not perfect. He's done terrible things. But he's still my father. And I won't let Sergei take everything from him."

Cole studied the younger son. He seemed sincere. But in this world, sincerity was just another mask.

"What do you want from me?" Cole asked.

"I want you to be careful. I want you to watch your back. And I want you to find the truth before it's too late." Dimitri turned to leave, then paused. "One more thing. The mole isn't just feeding information to the Feds. They're feeding it to someone else. Someone who's been watching you for years."

Cole's heart stopped. "Who?"

"The man who killed your wife."

Dimitri walked away, leaving Cole alone on the terrace.

---

Cole stood in the darkness, his mind racing. The man who killed his wife. Calvin Shaw. The CIA officer who had ordered her murder. The man who had framed him and destroyed his life.

Shaw was connected to the mole. Shaw was connected to Sergei. Shaw was connected to everything.

Cole pulled out his phone and stared at the screen. The text from earlier was still there. You're getting closer. But you're looking in the wrong direction.

Who had sent it? Katya? Dimitri? Someone else entirely?

He needed answers. And he knew exactly where to find them.

---

The Blue Door was a dive bar in the heart of the city's underworld. Flickering neon lights. Sticky floors. The smell of cheap whiskey and desperation. It was the kind of place where deals were made and bodies were buried.

Cole pushed open the door and stepped inside. The bar was half-empty. A few patrons nursed drinks at the counter. A man in a faded military jacket sat in the corner, nursing a glass of vodka.

Maksim Volkov.

Cole walked over to the corner and sat down across from him. Maksim didn't look up. He just stared at his glass.

"Cole," he said. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

"You knew I'd come?"

"I knew you'd need help. You always do." Maksim finally looked up. His eyes were tired, bloodshot. The eyes of a man who had seen too much. "What do you want?"

"Information."

"Always." Maksim gestured to the bartender for another drink. "What kind of information?"

"Calvin Shaw. He's connected to someone inside the Orlov family. I need to know who."

Maksim's expression didn't change, but Cole saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes. The brief flash of fear.

"Shaw is dangerous," Maksim said. "More dangerous than you realize. He's not just a rogue agent. He's running a network that spans three continents. He has assets everywhere. Including this city."

"Who is he working with in the family?"

Maksim was silent for a long moment. "I don't know the name. But I know where to find it. There's a woman. A fixer. She works for Shaw. Handles his operations in this region. If anyone knows the mole, it's her."

"Her name?"

"Anya. Anya Kuznetsova." Maksim took a long drink of his vodka. "She operates out of a club in the old district. The Red Lotus. Tell her I sent you."

Cole stood up. "Thank you, Maksim."

"Don't thank me." Maksim's voice was grim. "The woman is dangerous. And she'll want something in return. Trust nothing she says."

Cole nodded and walked toward the door. He was halfway there when his phone buzzed. He pulled it out and looked at the screen.

A text from an unknown number.

*You're getting closer. But the Red Lotus is a trap. They know you're coming.*

Cole stared at the screen. His heart was pounding. Whoever was sending these messages knew everything. They knew where he was going. They knew what he was planning.

He typed a reply: *Who are you?*

The response came immediately: *Someone who wants you to stay alive. Turn around. Go back to the compound. Don't go to the Red Lotus. It's what they want.*

Cole hesitated. Every instinct told him to ignore the message. To go to the club. To find Anya and get the answers he needed.

But something held him back. A voice in the back of his mind. A warning.

He turned around and walked back to Maksim's table.

"Change of plans," Cole said. "I need somewhere to lay low. For a few hours."

Maksim raised an eyebrow. "The compound isn't safe?"

"The compound is full of people who want to kill me. And I don't know which ones are working for Shaw."

Maksim studied him for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly. "I have a place. A safe house in the Warren. It's not comfortable, but it's secure. No one knows about it except me."

"Take me there."

---

The Warren was a labyrinth of tunnels beneath the city. Dark. Damp. The air smelled of mold and decay. Cole followed Maksim through a maze of passageways, his footsteps echoing in the silence.

They stopped at a steel door. Maksim punched a code into a keypad and the door swung open.

The room inside was small. A cot. A table. A single lamp. It smelled like dust and neglect.

"Stay here until I come back," Maksim said. "Don't leave. Don't contact anyone. This place is safe, but only if no one knows you're here."

"How long will you be gone?"

"A few hours. I need to make some calls. See if I can find out who sent those texts." Maksim paused at the door. "Cole. Be careful. There are forces at work in this city that I don't fully understand. And I've been here for thirty years."

He left.

Cole sat down on the cot and stared at the wall. The pieces were starting to come together. Shaw. Sergei. The mole. Katya. Ivan. Everyone was connected. But how? And why?

His phone buzzed again.

*You made the right choice. Stay in the Warren. Don't trust Maksim. He's not who you think he is.*

Cole stared at the screen. His blood went cold.

If he couldn't trust Maksim, who could he trust?

And more importantly—how did this person know so much?