Savage Recruit (Ryan Savage Thriller Series Book 8), стр. 21

Kathleen had wanted to help him, but since the United States was not in the charity business, Luganov would have to fork over some useful information that would benefit them. He came through, handing over hundreds of documents that detailed the most recent advances made by the R&D department of Russia’s Defense Cabinet.

It took nearly a week for Kathleen’s office, in tandem with Langley and the office of the Director of National Intelligence, to verify the authenticity of the information and to make preparations for Luganov to begin a new life. During that time, Luganov slept on a couch in an empty office. Kathleen spent hours with him, interviewing him about his work and the inner workings of his state employer. With each passing day, she got to know him better and found that she rather liked the man. He had a compassionate nature, a good sense of humor, and a moral compass that held straight and true.

Luganov spoke of all the ways he had dreamed of changing the world for the better. Since he could no longer do that, he wanted to spend the rest of his days in peace, far away from the overblown egos of politicians and warlords. If the workings of his mind would not ultimately leave the world in a better place, then the world would not have them at all. He had no family, no wife or children. His parents were already dead, and there were no siblings. All he had was his research, and he was willing to leave it all behind.

When Einstein penned his theory of relativity, it was said that only three or four other minds in the world could fully understand the body of his work. Simon Luganov’s mind had yielded the same effects, although in a more niche field of study. By leaving Russia, no one would be left to continue the work without his direct oversight.

Over the next week, by the time Luganov’s new identity had been established and he was ready for resettlement, Kathleen considered him a friend. He felt the same and requested that Kathleen be the one to escort him to his new home, rather than someone from the CIA’s Office of International Defection. She had agreed, and ten days after he first walked into her building, they were escorted out the back under the cover of darkness. A day later, he was settled, and after wishing him well amid the knowledge that she would never see him again, she returned to Brussels.

Now, she sat on her bed and gently rubbed the bruise where her captors had pricked her with the needle. Why now? she wondered. Why, after four years, had someone finally decided that it was urgent enough to find Luganov and to risk kidnapping someone of her positional caliber to do it? Luganov’s value was easily apparent. As “John” had suggested, whoever had Luganov had a gold mine.

But only a handful of people even knew of Kathleen’s direct involvement with Luganov’s defection. And none of those people would be behind this. They were good Americans, who Kathleen knew well.

Whatever the case, she meant what she had told her captor. They could do what they wanted to her, and probably would. But she would never give up Simon Luganov.

Kathleen laid back down and sighed.