Ripple Effect

Chapter Fifty-Seven: ...caught between a rock and a hard place.

Amy's lips bunched as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. Her gaze drifted towards the door behind Elizabeth and then back to Elizabeth herself, and it looked as though she were genuinely considering it. After all, was it really too much to ask that she go make herself a cup of tea or find something else to occupy her just for a short while?

But then she shook her head. "I can't. We have these rules for our clients' safety, and—"

"Fine." Elizabeth shrank back from the desk. She didn't have time for this, especially if their debate was whittling down the last of her five minutes. "But this conversation never happened. I'm sure you must have some kind of confidentiality clause hidden amongst all those procedures."

She pushed herself to her feet and leant back against the edge of the desk. She lifted the phone to her ear again, whilst she hugged her opposite arm loosely across her chest. "Russell..."

"...Yeah?" Russell's voice stretched back onto the line.

"Look—" She cast a glance over her shoulder.

Amy had returned to staring at the notepad, the pen tapping against the margin.

Elizabeth lowered her voice to a fraction over a mutter. "I know you said they met with GRU officials, but that doesn't mean anything in itself."

"What?" Russell made no effort to restrain his own voice. "So you think they're just socialising? Discussing the various merits of grain versus potato vodka?"

"They might well be. The point is, we don't know."

"Or it could be that's where Kostov got his cover and documents from, not to mention a backstop hefty enough to fool Immigration."

"There's got to be more than one cobbler in Moscow."

"Then how come, not long after the call with Salnikov, our agents in country started reporting activity in the group? Witnessed a live drop between a known GRU official and the group leader. Including cash and passports."

Elizabeth paused. She had to admit, that didn't look good. Her chin dipped, and as she gave a slight shake of her head, strands of her hair swept forward to tickle her cheeks. "Even if the GRU provided them with passports, it doesn't mean that Salnikov ordered the hit."

"GRU officers don't so much as blink without Salnikov's approval." A huff ruffled down the line. "Look, I know you don't want to believe that this came from the Kremlin—"

"Why?" Her head snapped up. "Because that means we'll be back on a footing to war with Russia, we'll never capture the man who almost killed my brother, and if they managed to get to me once, God knows they'll do it again, sooner or later..." Her voice softened whilst the knot at the centre of her chest tightened. "Or they'll get more creative... Henry, the kids—"

"They're safe." Russell cut in. "They're at home with a DS unit watching the house, and I've assigned each of them a Secret Service detail just as a precaution."

"And Will?"

"At home, blissfully unaware that plainclothes officers are watching his every move."

The knot slackened a little, just enough that it no longer felt like each breath was caught in a noose. But her family couldn't live like that, they shouldn't have to live like that, constantly being watched, constantly looking over their shoulders. She swapped the phone to the opposite ear, so that the white cord wrapped across her chest, and with the heel of her hand rested against the desk, she worried the plastic coils between finger and thumb. "Russell, I know what this looks like, but I can't believe Salnikov's behind this."