Andretti couldn’t help himself. He stepped forward to get a better view, to try to hear more about this plot of theirs. He stumbled, catching his shoulder on the corner of a hanging bookshelf. It fell to the floor with a horrifying crash.

The Russian pair froze for an instant. They spotted Andretti in the shadows. Nosovitskaya was the first to react. She pointed at Andretti and shouted, “He heard us! Dmitri, get him!”

She stood there, breathing fire and pointing toward Andretti like some golden goddess of war. Her sweater hung open to her waist, but she made no pretense at modesty. It was time for action and she was giving the orders.

Ustinov was a second slower than she was. His mind had been targeted on his long-awaited prize. It took a moment for him to shift gears.

Drunk or not, Andretti knew to seize the moment. He had to get out of there, and fast. He dashed out the door and down the hall. No time to wait for the elevator. The stairs were too slow. The young Russian would easily catch him.

He dashed into his office and slammed the door. The lock clicked into place. He was trapped, but at least they couldn’t get in.

He heard the crash of Ustinov’s shoulder as he slammed desperately into the heavy door. The Russian would never be able to break in. Andretti had had the door reinforced when he first began the skullduggery with Smythe. He did not want anyone breaking into his office to see what he was up to.

Oh God, if he could get a drink. Andretti could never remember being so thirsty. He picked up the empty Dewar’s bottle, looked at it to verify the magic elixir was all gone, then dropped it on the carpet.

He swallowed hard. There was only one thing to do.

Andretti stepped to his desk, punched a few keys on his computer keyboard, and clicked the mouse a couple of times. He saw the entry in his address book he needed. He grabbed up the telephone.

Ustinov rammed his body hard into the door once again, then brutally kicked it. He grunted and swore in Russian the whole time.

Andretti dialed a number. It was answered on the third ring.

“Securities and Exchange Commission, Enforcement Division.”

“Hello, this is Carl Andretti, CTO for OptiMarx Technology. I want to report a Russian plot to manipulate the U.S. stock market.”

Toledo sank slowly and silently even farther into the depths of the Murmansk Fjord. She was rigged for quiet running. Every piece of gear that wasn’t essential was secured. All the vital equipment was operating in its quietest lineup. She was quieter than the surrounding sea. Careful design, years of testing, and constant vigilance had made sure of that.