Geri Krotow - Snowbound With The Secret Agent

As she received first aid for a couple of cuts and bruises and then was taken to the ER against her desires, as a safeguard, her equilibrium returned. Portia had a lot to do when she got back to the library, but what she wanted to know more than anything was who the man was who’d saved her. And why she could still feel the imprint of his hands, his arms around her as they fell through the air and hit the hard ground, hours later. The matter of the person who’d led her so close to death didn’t elude her. Portia wanted to know who she was and wanted the woman to face full criminal charges for all she’d done. But the overarching curiosity that kept her from drowning in the shock and despair of almost dying wasn’t over the laptop thief. It was all about her rescuer, the man whose arms made her feel like no one could ever hurt her again.

And his eyes—the color of the Susquehanna in January. But unlike the cold slate of the river that ran through central Pennsylvania, where Silver Valley was nestled, the man’s eyes had a warmth in them. And a sadness.

It must have been the shock, as he described it, that made a myriad of emotions assault her as she mentally replayed what had just happened. Because what else explained the instant, white-hot zap of attraction she’d felt for the man, her train-wreck savior?

And who was he?

Ludmila Markova wasn’t happy. She’d have to circle back, in disguise this time, and drop the laptop off through the front door of the library, to leave it on the circulation desk. The book slot was too small for the computer, no doubt for added security. She’d have to act like a dopey kid who’d accidentally taken the laptop from the library property by accident.

Then she’d kill the librarian. Portia DiNapoli. She’d kept one eye on the bitch each time she’d entered the library, mostly just as herself, since this ignorant American town seemed to have a lot of library patrons. It made it easy for her to blend in.

She swore as she made herself down an entire quart of kefir. The protein was necessary to keep up her strength, and she missed the tang of her mother’s homemade drink.

The thought of her mother, gunned down next to her brothers and sisters and Papa, brought tears to her eyes. She viciously swiped at them. No more. After this mission, she’d be free and have the funds to go wherever she wanted. Not back to Russia—never.

Using the tactics ingrained into her by the former KGB official who trained her, she shoved her worthless emotions aside and focused on what the rest of the day would look like. First a stop to the library. Then find the librarian and eliminate the worry of her testimony, no matter how unlikely.

“What do you mean you were almost hit by a train? I thought you were working the ROC distribution network case?”

Silver Valley PD detective Josh Avery looked at Kyle as if his colleague was a new recruit. Kyle’s liaison with SVPD was a necessary part of working an op targeting criminal activity in Silver Valley. ROC was a menace to Silver Valley and instead of eradicating the crime ring’s reach with the takedown of a human trafficking ring, they’d found themselves looking down the barrel of ROC setting up Silver Valley to be its epicenter of heroin distribution in central Pennsylvania, Maryland and parts of New Jersey. Several of the SVPD detectives and officers were cut into Trail Hiker ops on a need-to-know basis, and often a Trail Hiker agent was paired with a single point of contact at SVPD to minimize leaks and maximize both law enforcement agencies’ ability to solve cases. Kyle came into SVPD to debrief Josh, after he was sure Portia was okay and being taken care of by the EMTs. Again, his focus was too heavy on the Portia side for his agent liking.

“I was. I am.” Kyle weighed what to say next, even though Josh was his SVPD liaison for this particular Trail Hiker case. But they were working as a team. “I was conducting surveillance, the same kind you do every day, on the library’s back entrance. Another agent had the front door covered. When trouble showed up in the way of an intruder—Markova—trying to pry open the locked exit-only door, I paid attention. I never expected the librarian to take off after the assailant, though.”

“It’s not like we can warn civilians about top-secret ROC details, not if we want to keep our covert ops secret.” Josh’s face revealed his concern.

“That’s the double-edged sword of this work, isn’t it? Providing safety for all by tracking the bad guys we can’t talk about.” Kyle leaned back in the chair across from Josh’s desk, in the detective’s office. “Who knew a librarian could run that fast?”

“I haven’t seen the official report come across yet. Are you sure it was the head librarian, Portia? Or one of her assistants?”

“It was Portia. And we’re lucky Markova didn’t knife her on the spot at the library.” No sense pretending he didn’t know who Portia was. “You know Portia?”

“She’s my fiancée’s best friend.” Josh grinned. “Don’t get sucked into any librarian stereotypes. Portia doesn’t take crap from anyone.”

Two strikes against his attempts at staying unseen today. He avoided public venues with any law enforcement agencies, or LEAs, as much as possible while doing his initial surveillance of Markova and ROC. But both Portia and Markova had seen him on the railroad tracks. Portia might believe he was a simple Good Samaritan, as could Markova. But a former FSB agent operated on the belief that there were no coincidences. Chances were that Markova suspected she’d been marked. His days in his undercover guise as a homeless man were numbered now, because Markova was as good as an enemy agent got. She’d put him with his disguise with little trouble. “Hell. Can’t one go anywhere in this town without running into another connection.”

“It’s not that bad. We’re bigger than you think, not just because we’re over twenty thousand last count. And you could run into the same people in a city of millions, especially in our profession. It happens.”

“But it’s not supposed to. Not if I’m doing my job right.” Kyle’s mission was to stay under the radar of a casual observer. He knew that Portia probably hadn’t noticed him in the library. He wore various disguises whenever he went there, to keep himself free to be himself during off-hours. He should have worn a disguise this morning, too, but with daylight surveillance, he wasn’t as worried—it was easier to pass off someone as inconsequential, normal, during busier working hours.

Josh nodded. He got it—he was an SVPD detective, yes, but also a Trail Hiker Agent as needed, per case. Right now they were using all agencies and means available to eradicate the crime through which ROC had infiltrated Silver Valley.

Kyle happened to have drawn the case of the stolen freight shipments, which amounted to millions of dollars of lost high-end technology goods in the past six months. Televisions, luxury audio systems and scores of top-of-the-line computer systems had been stolen. It’d blossomed into more when he discovered that heroin shipments were part of the ROC clandestine network, too. “I’ve narrowed down the place where they exchange possible hits and heroin drops to the library. I just haven’t spotted them doing it yet.”

“You still think it’s with the library’s computer internal system?”

“I did. But now, I’m not so sure. I’ve sat surveillance on Markova and the library for almost three weeks with no new leads.” The lack of movement on the case had given him too much time to think about Portia.

He wondered if she’d needed stitches, if she was released from the ER yet.

Not your problem .

Josh shook his head. “This is the hardest part. Waiting out the losers to make a wrong move so that we can put all of us out of our misery.”