“The Soviets built hidden installations throughout Eastern Europe,” she said. “They were literally small cities. Some with miles of underground passageways. Railroad lines, tunnels, laboratories, living spaces for hundreds, you name it. And oh, by the way, they were meant to withstand direct nuclear hits.” She exhaled. “Everything that ends begins again. The surprise is that Russia restarted the program and has been constructing new facilities right under our noses. Somehow they’ve blinded our surveillance satellites.”

Carmody looked at her. “Somehow isn’t usually good enough for you,” he said. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Only what I’m unable to.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“It is what it is,” she said. “The Wolf knows we’re on his trail. He won’t leave his new den. He’s too protected. So you’ll have to get inside.”

“Agreed.”

“You’ve hunted and wounded him before,” she said. “This time you have to kill him. And for that you need a team.”

“I already have one.”

She shook her head. “It’s divided between the US and Romania right now.”

“Your call. Not mine, Duchess.”

Morse smiled a little. Until a few months ago, they had mostly interacted across thousands of miles, over secure channels. He was accustomed to using her code name.

“It was necessary,” she said. “We’re growing fast. We need to train our recruits here in the US. And your men are the best.”

“Because they learned from the best,” Carmody said. “It still leaves me short.”

“Then, I repeat, assemble a new team,” Morse said. “It has to be large enough to get past a numerically superior, well-armed force. But small enough to be fast, agile and covert. Also, there will be total deniability for our government. No records, no outside contact. If you screw up on the ground, it’s your problem. If you succeed, I’ll grab most of the credit.”

“And won’t feel guilty about it?”

“Not one iota.”

He grinned. “Is that it?”

“A plan would be nice,” she said. “And for that you’ll need more information.”

“You already said that.”

“I think it bears repeating.” Morse put down her coffee cup and meshed her hands on the desk. “Mike, do you get disoriented using the HIVE’s V/R? A mild headache?”

He looked at her. “How did you know?”

“It could be a lucky guess,” she said. “Or that I’ve had a similar experience.”

“Or that you monitor my sessions,” he said.

She shrugged.

“We get biometric feedback from HIVE users. It helps us to improve things.”

“Cute.”

“Necessary,” Morse said.

“That your word of the morning?”