Fidelity by Jan Fedarcyk Page B

country.
    â€œI don’t like it,” he said, after Anthony finished running through what had happened to Dmitri—what had happened and what Anthony wanted to do about it.
    â€œI’m not thrilled about it, either.”
    â€œYou’re sure there’s no other way? Maybe Dmitri got foolish, started whispering secrets in public places after a few shots of vodka.”
    Anthony shrugged. Another thing that a full career as a spy had taught him: you could never be entirely sure what a person might do under any given circumstances. “It seems to me unlikely. Dmitri was, if nothing else, a professional. I can’t imagine he’d be so sloppy. And all three of them?” Anthony shook his head. “We’ve got a mole.”
    The ADDO let loose a string of profanity that would have been noteworthy for its length and eloquence if Anthony hadn’t heard so many variations of it before. “And there’s no way we can handle this in-house?”
    â€œIf I thought that was a legitimate option, I’d have taken it.” The CIA mandate was to gather and analyze intelligence on foreign entities. Legally it was not allowed to operate within the United States proper. That was exclusively within the purview of the FBI, responsible for counterintelligence gathering inside the nation. In practice, of course, the CIA had not always been known to play entirely according to the strictest rules of conduct, but neither was it set up to coordinate the sort of manhunt that was the FBI’s core mission.
    â€œDamn feds,” the ADDO said, which by his standards was actually not even particularly profane.
    â€œThey’re professionals,” Anthony said. “They’ve got the resources to handle it, and the personnel. I’m not crazy abouthaving Agency business spread any wider than it needs to be, but under the circumstances I don’t see an alternative.” Of course the ADDO knew all of these things—knew that the situation, for legal as well as practical reasons, required coordination with the FBI. But some people needed to be talked into things they had already decided on, and the ADDO was one of these people.
    â€œAnd who were you thinking would be best equipped to help us sweep up this mess?”
    Anthony made like he was thinking this over, although it was all for show. “Jeffries would be an ideal choice.”
    â€œFrowny?” the ADDO said, like it was the first time anyone had made the joke. Finished being pleased with himself, he mulled it over for a moment. “I guess there isn’t anyone better suited.”
    There was not, which was why Anthony had suggested her. “She’s earned her reputation for competence,” though “genius” would really more accurately describe the common wisdom relating to Jeffries. “And she’s not the loose-lips sort, either.”
    The ADDO snorted. “No, she certainly isn’t.” He thought it over for a while, or made like he was thinking it over. “If we’ve got to do it, we’ve got to do it,” the ADDO said finally, in the sort of tone that suggested he held Anthony responsible for the situation. “But I want one of ours up in New York coordinating the effort. Let’s just make sure that our . . . associates don’t take this as an opportunity to go on a witch hunt through the Agency.”
    â€œWho were you thinking?”
    â€œAndrew did good work in Kiev.”
    â€œHe did,” Anthony agreed. “It’s a different sort of skill set, however.”
    â€œI think he’s got the chops to handle it. Besides, it’s time he learned something about cooperating with our sister agency. It’snot all adventures in foreign lands. Internal politics is as important as external.”
    Which was as good as an order—and would have become one if Anthony had pressed, and so of course he didn’t. Another thing he had