Over the next two days, I exchange half a dozen emails with Buschekov. As I’d suspected, he’s not too happy, initially going so far as to say he’ll only talk to Peter Sokolov about the matter.
“Sokolov is currently unavailable,” I tell Buschekov when we get on a video call. The Russian official is once again using an interpreter—a middle-aged woman this time. “I’m the one speaking for Esguerra in all matters now, and he wants Tzakova in his custody as soon as possible, along with whatever information you’ve been able to uncover about her thus far.”
“That’s impossible,” Buschekov retorts once the translator conveys my words. “It’s a matter of national security—”
“Bullshit. All we require are the files on her background. That has nothing to do with Russian national security.”
Buschekov d
