“Are we protecting the asset from the boyfriend, or from someone else?” asked Gunner.
“Someone else.”
Razor stood, running his hand through his hair. “Who?”
“We can’t say yet.”
“You can’t say, or you don’t know?” Doc stood and joined Razor. “That’s what I was afraid of,” he said when Striker didn’t answer.
“Why do you need Ava’s testimony?”
“She witnessed an exchange. We also believe she unknowingly has a connection to the organization.”
“If you want us to take this on,” Doc snarled, “you need to tell us everything you know, and everything you don’t. I’m not sending one of our guys in on this unless we’re fully briefed.”
Merrigan stood and put her hand on Doc’s arm. “May I?” she asked Striker, who nodded.
“MI6 has been on this longer than the agency has,” she began. “CRM Allied, an Irish export company with very hard-to-trace ties to Azerbaijan, has been on our radar for the last five years, but we haven’t been able to find enough to go after them. Dashiell Finnegan, whom Ava McNamara had a relationship with, was recruited by someone close to her. However, it was probably the worst decision CRM made.”
“We believe Finnegan knows enough to bring the entire organization down,” added Striker.
“Where is he now?” Razor asked.
“In custody, but under protection.”
“Who else knows about Ava’s involvement?”
“The man we believe controls CRM,” answered Striker.
“For fuck’s sake.” Razor raised his voice, getting sick of Striker dragging this out unnecessarily.
“Ava McNamara’s father,” said Striker, who shrugged when Merrigan scowled at him.
“Jesus,” Razor muttered. “And you’re saying he knows she’s a witness?”
Striker nodded. “There is little doubt that Finnegan made him aware of Ava’s involvement.”
Razor looked at Merrigan. “How long have you known this?”
“Wait a minute—” said Doc, but, for the second time, Merrigan rested her hand on his arm.
“I didn’t. The McNamara family was never on our radar. Or, how should I put this? MI6’s investigation was of someone whom, now, I’d say is operating under a fake identity.”
“Who have you been investigating?”
“Makar Petrov.”
Razor sat back down and rested his head in his hands. Petrov, a black market arms’ dealer, had disappeared over twenty years ago, rumored to have been killed and dumped in the Caspian Sea; his body was never found.
There was no intelligence naming his killer, but when Razor had heard the story, he figured it had to be CIA. The man had been as evil as they came, and had been responsible for selling weapons to countless rogue factions from several different nations who all had one thing in common—they hated the United States with every breath they took.
“What about the other twin?” Gunner asked. “What does she know?”
“It was suggested to Ava that she not divulge what she knew to anyone, particularly her sister. Given it would put Aine in danger, she agreed.”
“And the mother?”
“From what we can tell, she has no idea that she married a Russian mobster twenty-two years ago. Petrov, if it is in fact him, obviously underwent a great deal of plastic surgery. We also believe he killed the real Conor McNamara and took on his identity.”