Chapter 7: The Last Move Volkov Made
Adrian called his federal contact from the driveway of the Connecticut property.
Her name was Agent Carla Reyes — no relation to the driver — and she picked up on the second ring.
"I need the warrant executed," Adrian said.
"Not next week.
Today."
"Adrian, the paperwork for the server seizure alone—"
"He sent me a photograph of my daughter taken through the window of a moving vehicle.
He has people who have been inside her daycare for eight months.
He moved a surveillance car to her residential block this morning." Adrian's voice was flat and precise.
"Tell me what you need from me to make today happen."
A pause on the line.
"Send me the photograph.
And the text messages.
Both of them."
"Sending now."
"Give me two hours."
"You have one."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"One hour," Agent Reyes said.
"Get your people off the street so they're not in the way."
Adrian hung up.
Turned to Vincent.
"Pull everyone back from the city.
I want clean distance between our people and whatever Reyes does in the next hour."
"And Volkov's men on Sarah's block?"
"Leave them.
Reyes will want them in place when she moves."
Vincent nodded and stepped away to make calls.
Sarah was standing in the doorway of the house, Lily on her hip again, watching Adrian.
When he came up the steps, she didn't ask what had happened.
She had heard enough.
"Is it going to be today?" she asked.
"Yes."
"And after today?"
"After today, Volkov is a federal problem and not mine." He looked at her.
"That's not a small thing.
That's the thing I've been building toward for fourteen months."
Sarah shifted Lily on her hip.
Lily was examining the door frame with great interest, running her finger along the wood grain.
"There are fish in the back," Adrian said to Lily.
"In a pond.
Do you want to see them?"
Lily's head came up immediately.
"What kind?"
"Orange ones."
"Like my crackers?"
"Bigger than your crackers."
Lily looked at her mother with an expression of profound urgency.
Sarah set her down and she took off around the side of the house with the focused energy of a child who has been given a mission.
Adrian watched her go.
"She's going to be all right," Sarah said.
It wasn't a question.
"Yes," Adrian said.
"She is."
His phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
Not Reyes — a number he didn't recognize.
He answered it.
"Mr.
Moretti." The voice was accented, unhurried, the voice of a man who had spent decades being the most dangerous person in every room.
"I think we should speak directly, you and I.
Without the lawyers and the federal agents and the fourteen months of paperwork your contact has been building."
Dimitri Volkov.
Adrian kept his voice level.
"I'm listening."
"I want the Red Hook contract back.
That's all I have ever wanted.
Give me back what was taken from me, and the girl and her mother live their lives without any further inconvenience from my people.
It's a simple transaction."
"And if I decline?"
"Then I become very interested in how a three-year-old girl spends her Tuesdays." A pause.
"She likes the slide at the park on 72nd Street.
Did you know that?
Of course you did.
You were there."
Adrian was quiet for exactly three seconds.
"Dimitri," he said.
"I want you to listen to me very carefully."
"I'm listening."
"You called me on a phone.
This phone has been registered with federal law enforcement as part of an active investigation for eleven months.
Every call made to this number is logged and recorded automatically." Adrian paused.
"You just threatened a three-year-old child on a recorded federal line.
That's not a negotiation.
That's a confession."
Silence.
"You're bluffing," Volkov said.
But his voice had changed — just slightly, just enough.
"Agent Carla Reyes, FBI organized crjme division," Adrian said.
"She's been listening to this call for the last forty seconds.
Say hello, Carla."
Agent Reyes's voice came through the line, calm and professional.
"Mr.
Volkov.
I'd strongly recommend you stay where you are.
We have units at your Midtown office, your Red Hook warehouse, and your residence in Westchester.
This call has been recorded in full.
Anything you say from this point forward will be included in the federal filing."
The line went quiet.
Then Volkov said, very quietly, something in Russian that Adrian didn't need translated.
"Units are moving now," Reyes said to Adrian.
"You'll have confirmation within the hour.
Keep your family where they are."
The call ended.
Adrian stood on the front steps of the Connecticut house and looked out at the tree line.
His shoulder ached.
His heart monitor, clipped to his belt per the cardiologist's instructions, showed a steady rhythm.
From around the side of the house came the sound of Lily's voice, high and delighted.
"There are SO MANY.
Mama, there are SO MANY FISH."
Sarah appeared beside Adrian on the steps.
She had heard enough of the call to understand.
"It's done?" she asked.
"It's done."
She was quiet for a moment.
Then: "You set that up.
The phone registration.
You knew he might call."
"I knew he would call," Adrian said.
"Volkov always wants to make the deal himself.
He doesn't trust his people to negotiate.
It's the thing that has always made him predictable."
"So you prepared for it."
"For about six months, yes."
Sarah looked at him sideways.
"You're a very strange man, Adrian Moretti."
"I know."
"Lily," she called.
"Come show me the fish."
Lily came sprinting around the corner, grabbed her mother's hand, and then stopped and looked at Adrian.
"Come see the fish," she said.
It was not a question.
Adrian followed his daughter around the side of the house to a small pond where a dozen orange fish moved slowly through clear water in the afternoon light.
Lily crouched at the edge and pointed at the largest one.
"That one is the dad," she announced.
"Because he's the biggest."
Adrian crouched beside her, careful of his shoulder.
"What are the others?"
"The mom.
And all the babies." She pointed to each one in turn, naming them with great confidence and no hesitation.
She pointed to a small fish near the edge.
"That one is me."
"What's my name?" Adrian asked.
"The dad fish."
Lily looked at him.
Considered.
"Adrian," she said.
"Because that's your name."
"That's right."
"I knew it already," she said.
"Mama told me a long time ago.
I just didn't know your face." She looked back at the fish.
"Now I do."
Adrian's hand rested on the ground beside hers.
She didn't take it — she was too focused on the fish for that.
But she didn't move away either.
His phone buzzed.
He glanced at it.
Reyes.
One line.
*Volkov is in custody.
Warrant executed.
It's over.*
He put the phone back in his pocket.
"The dad fish needs a name too," Lily said.
"Not just Adrian.
A fish name."
"What do you suggest?"
She thought about it with great seriousness.
"Buttons," she said.
"Like Mr.
Buttons."
May you like
Adrian looked at his daughter.
"Perfect," he said.
