“Copy. All right, this is the status as we know it.” Archangel’s gravelly voice was immediately identifiable. “The area around the Peace Palace was the target of both planes. The hijacker who was killed had terminal cancer and was going to take the plane to the ground. The other two were going to parachute out. The parachutes were stowed where the crew kept blankets, pillows, and assorted items for the first-class travelers.”
“How did we learn that?” Anubis asked.
The man who identified himself as Dom Ops answered. “The CIA has its methods. Let’s just say the air marshal doesn’t like water.”
Val tipped her head back to look at Smiths, who shrugged, completely nonplussed by the disclosure.
“Why?” Val asked the question.
“We were right. This was a strike organized by Komal’s people. There were teams on the ground. The court was swarmed, and Komal was freed.”
Val knew what that meant. He would be targeted if he wasn’t already.
“Any intelligence as to where he fled?” Smoke asked.
“A non-extradition country for sure,” Alpha said. Val liked that guy. She’d heard him on calls before.
“The list of closest non-extradition countries?” Archangel asked.
“Hold on.” Val heard typing.
“Russia, Morocco, Moldovia, UAE, Qatar, Bahrain, Brunei, then outlying entities such as Madagascar, Mali, Maldives, and Vanuatu.” Smith listed off the countries.
“Ah … he’s right.” Ethan—she believed Archangel had called him—said and then continued, “He forgot Bhutan, but he’s absolutely correct.”
“Where do we start?” Dom Ops asked.
“Alpha, is Tori able to work?” Archangel inquired.
“Not yet. Hopefully, soon.”
“All right. We do this the old-fashioned way. I’ll contact the Secretary of State and ask for downward-directed cooperation. Dom Ops, we’ll need to pull in people who have been medically cleared to start working on the information we’ll get in.”
“I have a pool of people. It’s been over four months since the Siege, and they want to work. I’ll put Kannon Starling in charge of it. Where do you want them to work?”
“Rent out a conference center. Make sure we have acceptable classified storage available. We’ll sift for any information we can find.”
“I’d go to Russia. From there, I could plan where to lay low,” the Rose interjected.
“Not a good time to have people inside Russia.”
“Not even people who could blend in?” Anubis asked.
Archangel made a sound of interest. “Explain that.”
“Sunset Operative Thirteen speaks fluent Russian.”
She nodded. She did.
“So do I,” Smith said in perfect Russian. She blinked and lifted onto her elbows, dislodging the phone from where she’d set it. He shrugged.
“Well, there you go. They play like Russian citizens and be available if we need her to do her job.”
“Do you have contacts in Russia and a reason to be there?”
She pushed her hair back.Fuck. “I do, and I can get an invitation without a problem.” That wasnotwhat she wanted for Smith or herself.
“Get there. Fury, you work Smith’s documentation, and Anubis, give Operative Thirteen whatever she needs.”