THE INTERROGATOR

The Trail

Cole stared at the phone for a long moment. The message burned into his retinas. *Don't trust Maksim. He's not who you think he is.*

The steel door of the safe room felt like a prison. The walls pressed in. The air was stale and thin. He had been sitting here for an hour, waiting for Maksim to return. Waiting for answers that might never come.

He stood up abruptly. Waiting was a luxury he couldn't afford. Three days. He had already burned one. And every second he spent hiding in this hole was a second the mole was getting further away.

Cole walked to the door and pressed his ear against the cold metal. Silence. He reached for the handle and turned it slowly. The door swung open with a soft click.

The tunnel was empty. Dark. Quiet.

He stepped out and began walking. The Warren was a maze, but Cole had studied the maps. He knew where he was going. The Red Lotus. The club in the old district. Anya Kuznetsova.

The mysterious texter had warned him away. But Cole had learned one thing in his years of hunting: sometimes the people who warned you away were the ones who had the most to hide.

He followed the tunnels for twenty minutes. The air grew colder. The walls grew damper. Finally, he reached a metal ladder leading up to a grate. He climbed up and pushed the grate open.

The alley was dark and narrow. Trash bins lined the walls. The smell of garbage and stale beer hung in the air. Cole climbed out of the tunnel and pulled the grate back into place.

The Red Lotus was at the end of the alley. A neon sign flickered above the entrance. Red letters. Lotus flower. The club was smaller than he expected. A hole in the wall. But the men standing outside the door were anything but small.

Two of them. Broad shoulders. Bulges under their jackets. They watched him approach with cold, assessing eyes.

"I'm here to see Anya," Cole said.

The men exchanged a glance. One of them reached for his jacket. "She's not seeing anyone tonight."

"Tell her Maksim sent me."

The man hesitated. Then he pulled out his phone and made a call. He spoke in rapid Russian, too fast for Cole to catch all of it. He listened for a moment, then nodded.

"Go in," he said. "She's in the back room. Don't touch anything."

Cole walked past them into the club.

---

The Red Lotus was a palace of vice. Red velvet walls. Dim lighting. Men in expensive suits sat in booths with women who wore too much makeup and not enough clothes. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of expensive perfume.

Cole ignored the stares and walked to the back of the club. A door marked "Private" led to a narrow hallway. He followed it to a room at the end.

Anya Kuznetsova was waiting for him.

She was younger than he expected. Early thirties. Dark hair cut short. Sharp features. A pistol on the table beside her. She was smoking a cigarette, her eyes fixed on him with cool amusement.

"Maksim sent you?" she said.

"Yes."

"Then you're either very brave or very stupid." She took a long drag on her cigarette. "Maksim hasn't sent anyone to me in years. He knows I don't take kindly to visitors."

"I need information."

"Everyone needs information. The question is: what are you willing to pay for it?"

Cole sat down across from her. "I'm looking for a man named Calvin Shaw. He's connected to someone inside the Orlov family. I need to know who."

Anya's expression didn't change, but Cole saw her fingers tighten around the cigarette. A micro-reaction. She knew the name.

"Shaw is dangerous," she said. "More dangerous than you realize. He's not just a rogue agent. He's a ghost. He doesn't exist on any official record. He doesn't leave traces. He's been hunting people like you for decades."

"People like me?"

"People who know too much. People who threaten the order he's built." Anya leaned forward. "You're looking for the mole, aren't you? The one in the Orlov family."

"How do you know about the mole?"

"Everyone knows about the mole. The only question is who it is." She crushed out her cigarette. "But I can tell you one thing. The mole isn't working alone. They're part of something bigger. Something that's been building for years."

"What are they building?"

Anya was silent for a long moment. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She slid it across the table.

"These are the names of everyone connected to Shaw's operation. In this city. There are six of them. One is inside the Orlov family. The others are scattered across the city."

Cole unfolded the paper. Six names. Six people. And one of them was Katya Volodina.

His blood went cold. Katya. The woman who had given him the flash drive. The woman who had warned him about the conspiracy. The woman who had positioned herself as his ally.

She was connected to Shaw.

"What else do you know?" Cole asked.

"I know that Shaw is planning something. Something big. He's been moving pieces around for months. And the mole is a key part of his plan." Anya lit another cigarette. "You have two days to find the mole. After that, Shaw's plan goes into motion. And everyone you care about will be dead."

"Everyone I care about?"

"Your daughter." Anya's eyes met his. "Shaw knows about her. He's been watching her for months. He's waiting for the right moment to strike."

Cole felt a surge of cold rage. His hands clenched into fists. Riley. His daughter. The only thing in this world he still cared about.

If Shaw touched her—

"I need more," Cole said. "I need to know who inside the Orlov family is working with Shaw."

Anya shook her head. "That's all I have. But if you want my advice, stop trusting the people around you. They're not what they seem."

She stood up. The meeting was over.

Cole folded the paper and put it in his pocket. "Why are you helping me?"

Anya paused at the door. "Because Shaw killed my brother. And I want to see him burn."

---

Cole walked out of the club and into the alley. His mind was racing. Katya was connected to Shaw. The mole was connected to Katya. It all fit together. But something felt wrong. Too neat. Too clean.

He pulled out his phone and stared at the screen. The mysterious texter hadn't messaged him again. But the words were still burned into his memory. *Don't trust Maksim. He's not who you think he is.*

What if Anya was lying? What if she was working with Shaw, and the names on the paper were just a distraction? What if the real mole was someone else entirely?

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

---

The compound was quiet when Cole returned. The dinner was over. The guests had gone home. The servants had retired to their quarters. The halls were empty, the lights dimmed.

Cole walked through the corridors, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He made his way to Katya's room and knocked softly.

The door opened. Katya stood there in a silk robe, her platinum hair loose around her shoulders. Her eyes widened when she saw him.

"Cole. What are you—"

"I need to talk to you."

She stepped aside and let him in. The room was elegant, feminine. Soft lighting. Perfume in the air. A laptop sat open on the desk.

"What's this about?" Katya asked. "It's late."

Cole turned to face her. "I know about Shaw. I know you're connected to him."

Katya's expression flickered. Only for a moment. But Cole caught it.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do. I have names. I have documents. I have enough to take you to Konstantin." Cole's voice was hard. "So don't lie to me."

Katya stared at him for a long moment. Then she walked to the window and stared out at the darkness.

"Shaw is not my ally," she said softly. "He's my enemy. He killed my partner. The man I loved. And I've been hunting him for years."

"Then why are you working for him?"

"Because it's the only way to get close to him. I feed him information. I run errands for him. I pretend to be his loyal servant. And all the while, I'm building a case. A case that will destroy him."

Cole studied her. She seemed sincere. But in this world, sincerity was just another mask.

"Prove it," he said.

Katya turned from the window. "I can't. Not yet. But I can tell you this. The person you're looking for—the mole—isn't a low-level operative. It's someone close to Konstantin. Someone he trusts with his life."

"Who?"

"I don't know the name. But I know how to find out. There's a woman. A priest's daughter. She works in the family's accounting department. She has access to everything. Names. Records. Transactions. If anyone knows who the mole is, it's her."

"What's her name?"

"Nora. Nora Volodina. My sister."

Cole's jaw tightened. Katya's sister. The wild card. The one who ran the café near the docks.

"Why can't you get the information from her yourself?"

"Because she doesn't trust me. She thinks I'm working with Shaw. If I ask her about the mole, she'll deny everything. But you..." Katya moved closer. "You can read people. You can see the truth. If anyone can get her to talk, it's you."

Cole was silent for a long moment. The pieces were starting to come together. But there were still too many gaps. Too many unknowns.

"Where can I find her?"

"The café. The Night Owl. She works there every night until midnight." Katya handed him a slip of paper. "Here's the address. But be careful. Nora is smarter than she looks. And she hates strangers."

---

Cole walked out of Katya's room and into the hallway. His phone buzzed as he reached the end of the corridor.

Another text from the unknown number.

*You're getting closer. But Katya is using you. The woman you're looking for doesn't exist. Nora Volodina died three years ago.*

Cole stared at the screen. His blood turned to ice.

Katya's sister was dead. Then who was the woman in the café? And what was Katya leading him into?

He looked down the hallway. The compound stretched out before him, a labyrinth of secrets and lies.

He was trapped in a web of deception. And every person he trusted was just another spider.