This was Roth’s mole. The leak. He was the reason Lance and the other assets were dead. He was the reason Igor found out she’d leaked the vial. It all came back to him.

And here he was, sipping a beer like he didn’t have a care in the world.

She’d change that.

She couldn’t wait to see his brains splattered across the mirrored glass of the bar.

The bartender brought her drink and she took it with her as she rounded the bar. On her way, she caught Mansfield’s eye, and when he saw her, she thought for a second that a look of recognition flashed across his face.

Maybe he knew her. Maybe his GRU contacts had shown him pictures of her.

This was it. She had her hand on the gun and was ready to pull it out and put a bullet in his smug face. But then he smiled.

He didn’t recognize her, or if he did, he’d mistaken her.

“You must be Diamond,” he said.

Tatyana smiled. She let go of the gun. In her sweetest voice, without hiding her accent, she said, “They never told me you were so handsome.”

He offered her the seat next to him but she shook her head.

“I’ve got a room,” she said. “And I’ve got a friend already up there, warming the bed for us.”

“A friend?” Mansfield said. “What are you talking about?”

“And a message,” she said, caressing his hand and pulling him off his seat.

“Wait a minute,” he said.

She brought his hand to her mouth and sucked seductively on his thumb.

“Holy shit,” he said, taking some cash from his pocket and leaving it on the bar.

Tatyana smiled at him and led him to the elevator, letting him hold her around the waist.

“What’s the message?” he said, stepping into the elevator with her.

She waited for the doors to close, then leaned in and put her lips to his ear. “From Moscow, with love,” she said.

Then she jammed the barrel of the gun into his groin. His eyes suddenly widened as he realized his mistake.

“What is this?”

“Don’t move or I’ll blow it off,” she said.

The elevator dinged and she pushed him forward. They walked down the corridor and she opened the door to her old room, pushing him inside. She brought him to the center of the room, where she knew Igor’s cameras had the best picture. She wanted to make sure he got this message loud a clear.

“Hello, Igor,” she said in Russian.

Mansfield was confused.

“What is this?” he said, his face beginning to break into panic.

“This is check mate,” Tatyana said.

“You don’t have to do this. I’m with you guys. I work for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re Russian, right?”