“The card is for his business account. A Durham, North Carolina, address. I had our people check it out, and it’s valid. His company is Fancy Food Marketing. Wholesale imports and exports. Balen founded it about eight years ago.”

“We get his contact information?”

She nodded. “I was able to reach his warehouse and talk to a company officer who was working late. She told me Balen’s been traveling for the past month.” A pause. “That’s what he does. Travels and makes deals. His current trip is to Ukraine. Specifically, Crimea.”

Carmody looked at her. “You’re kidding.”

Morse shook her head. “Our government slapped a partial embargo on trade with Crimea. Because of the Russian occupation. But the ban exempts certain food and agriculture products, and Balen applied for a license. His secretary said he’s there buying some kind of honey. For distribution to foodie shops here in this country.”

“Present tense?”

“That’s the kicker. His trip was combined business and vacation. He left for Europe last month. The last time he checked in with his company was two weeks ago. From Simferopol.”

“Seems a while.”

“The secretary thought so. But it was partly a vacation.”

“Balen have family?”

“He’s divorced, no kids. Lives alone. Travels solo. Ring a bell?”

“It’s Stephen Gelfland all over again,” Leo said. “Bet anything his picture was also deepfaked on the internet.”

“It was on his passport,” Morse said. “We’ve already checked out DoS records.”

Leo looked at her. “I don’t know where the Chinese fit into the picture. But Crimea, Malkira, the hacks...this whole thing says Russia.”

“And the Wolf,” Kali said.

“That’s an assumption,” Morse said.

“No. Drajan Petrovik has the resources and technical ability for the operation. He’s been with the Russians since escaping Romania. And deepfake hacks were a speciality of his partner. Emil Vasile.”

“The guy Dixon killed in Bucharest,” Carmody said.

Kali nodded. “They were close when I knew them. Like brothers. He would have taught Drajan.”

Morse looked at her. “And you waited till now to tell us?”

Kali said nothing.

“Why?” Morse said.

Kali said nothing.

Carmody said, “Let’s drop it for now.”

“No,” Morse said. “Ki Marton is dead. One of my agents was nearly killed with him. Musil’s daughters were fucking kidnapped. And you’re sitting here with a hole in your arm.” She looked at Kali, her eyes furious. “Why didn’t you tell us about Petrovik’s acquired deepfake skills before?”

Kali exhaled. A long, slow breath.

“Because he is my responsibility,” she said. “Because his cyberattack on New York is partly my responsibility. And the destruction of Janus Base in Romania. Drajan accomplished both using code he stole from me.”

Morse looked at her. “You could have shared all that with us months ago. It could have helped us stop him.”