Berg joined Rich, who stood glaring at them with his arms crossed. Scott and Rico flanked the two closely—not that their captives were going anywhere. Mike and Alex sat at the kitchen island, working on something she couldn’t see. They had a laptop and a small plastic case open. That was all she could tell. She stood next to Devin, who had moved closer to Berg but remained separated from the two who would conduct the interrogation.

“Who wants to go first?” asked Rich.

The woman screamed through the duct tape covering her mouth. Rich nodded at Scott, who tore the piece free. She immediately started pleading for her life, which caught Marnie off guard, almost causing her to gasp. Devin gave her a reassuring look, though he appeared anything but sure about the situation. When the woman had settled down, Rich glanced up at Alex, who held up a driver’s license and motioned for him to come over.

“See what’s going on,” Devin said to Marnie.

She followed Rich to the kitchen island, where they formed a huddle around the two operatives. She glanced over her shoulders to see William Barber and his mistress straining their necks to look at the kitchen. Scott and Rico faced them forward.

“What’s up?” asked Rich.

“Read the name on the ID,” said Alex.

Rich took it, and Marnie examined it over his shoulder. Illinois driver’s license. Karen Jeffries.

“No way,” she muttered.

“Way,” said Alex, switching to a different tab on the laptop screen.

The Google search string read: Wife of Harrison Jeffries, Deputy Chief of Staff to the Attorney General in Illinois.

The top result listed Karen Jeffries. Next was a Wikipedia entry with her name and references to their two children. A LinkedIn profile followed, identifying her as an Illinois state representative. Alex clicked on a Facebook link, which took them to Harrison Jeffries’s Facebook page. No further confirmation required. Karen Jeffries, the out-of-state wife of a suspected Russian sleeper agent, was romantically involved with another suspected Russian sleeper. The coincidence raised alarms.

“Interesting,” said Marnie.

“Damning is more like it,” said Rich. “No reason to tiptoe around these two. They’re as thick as thieves. I strongly suspect something. Can you open their phones?”

Mike removed a small plastic kit from the case and opened it, removing what looked like another phone.

“Give me a minute,” he said.

“What is that?” asked Marnie.

“It’s a scanner with a built-in passcode-analysis application. I just put my device over their screen and hopefully that gives me a high-probability passcode. If not, I’ll have to do this old school and dust the screens. The differences can be really subtle, but I should be able to determine the four- or six-digit code based on the amount of oily residue left behind on each number. Might take a few guesses, but it works ninety percent of the time.”