The mask of anger had slipped from Reuben’s face. Now all she saw was his pain.

“I’m so sorry. I—” She didn’t have words. Nothing she could say could soothe this agony.

“Were there scuba divers under the water? Did they take you to Birgu?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember. Probably?”

“Why didn’t they take me? Why did Mama shove me back in the boat, but take you with her?”

“I can’t answer that.” She could guess, though. He could too. Too old to forget his father. Luka would never let a son go. Or maybe she wasn’t Luka’s daughter at all… That was her favorite theory, but also the least likely.

She didn’t state her ideas aloud. No point in speculating when they’d never know the truth. Instead, she gave him the only truth she could offer. “You were a great big brother. I worshipped you. Thank you for trying to save me that day.”

His face pinched as if he wanted to deny it, but he was the one who’d just told the awful story. He cleared his throat instead and said, “You were a terrible brat. I shouldn’t have bothered.”

Another tear spilled, and she let out a sharp laugh. “You’re just mad because I was so small, I was better at hide-and-seek than you.”

He snorted. “It was my best trick for getting rid of you. Let you think you’d hidden so well I couldn’t find you, then I went off to play video games with Ivan and Anton.”

The names triggered a jolt of memory. “Ivan and Anton. Oh my. I—I remember them. Playing in the house and garden. Who were they?”

“Servants’ kids. There were several. Papa didn’t like us playing with them, but Mama allowed it. Said we should get to have fun and be children.”

Kira was reminded of Nadia, who grew up with Grigory’s daughter and now was a maid and Aleksandr’s mistress, hoping to leave the servants’ quarters by becoming his wife.

“Do any of the children we played with still work for”—she hesitated then managed to say it without choking—“Papa?”

“Yes. Ivan works in security, as did his father. Clara works in the kitchen.”

There was a vague familiarity to the names. Playing hide-and-seek and calling them out, singsong. One teased at the edge of her mind. Benny. But drawn out. Behhhnnneeeee.

“Was there a boy named Benny?”

Reuben startled at that. “Yes. Benedikt. He was closer to your age than mine—worked for us until a year ago. He got a job in the US. Your neck of the woods, I believe. Virginia.”

“Virginia is a big state. Is he near DC?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“What does he do?”

“Something with computers. Left us in a lurch—he’d managed our network at the villa and the estate in Russia and quit without warning. Met a girl or something.”

“I’ll have to look him up when I go home. What’s his last name?”

Reuben paused for a moment then said, “I don’t remember.”

He was lying. He’d said too much, and he knew it.

She knew it.

But then, part of him probably wanted her to know. He hated her that much.

She remembered the sound of the voice.

“Kiiiirrraa. Kiiirrrrra.”

A high-pitched child’s voice as they played a game enjoyed by children the world over. She didn’t remember if he’d said more. Perhaps the Russian version of Come out, come out, wherever you are.

Maybe.

She took a deep breath. This question wasn’t for Reuben; it was for everyone listening and watching. “Was Benny’s last name, by any chance, Kinder?”

Chapter Fifty

There were several audible gasps in the room filled with SEALs and NSWC personnel watching the feed from Kira’s pendant camera in real time. Teague figured his face showed the same shock as the others.

“How the fuck did we miss that?” someone shouted.

Those with computers before them—the tech team—immediately began typing. Teague wished he had a computer, but he was out of that part of the game. No more contact with Nadia. She was of no use now, and any communication with her could screw things up once she’d interacted with Rand and Kira.

“He passed the background check. He must’ve scrubbed his résumé.”

People started shouting out the facts they knew about Ben Kinder. He’d worked in tech support for Fleet and Family Readiness for the last year. Non-appropriated funds, meaning it was a different part of the civilian military employee system.

It was a low-level position—the computer networks he dealt with were not part of the main network systems. FFR ran the daycares, rented out recreational equipment, set up excursions to sporting events and other entertainment at a discount for active-duty personnel.

It was enough for base access, which meant Kinder could flash his badge, drive through the gate, and, as long as he didn’t face a random inspection of his vehicle, he could have an M4 in the trunk and start shooting at unarmed sailors.

Weapons were heavily restricted on base. Anyone he encountered in the building where Kira had presented the workshop would be unarmed unless they were part of base security.

He’d had a background check—everyone with base access went through one—but he’d come out clean. According to the information on file, he had an American passport, and prior to working for FFR, he’d worked for an American tech company in Germany for several years.

His citizenship had to be fake, along with the work history, but as a guy in tech, he’d probably been able to alter the records to match what he needed. Still, there should have been a flag somewhere.

His real name probably wasn’t even Kinder. In the live feed, Reuben Kulik didn’t confirm or deny the surname. Kira’s question had clearly been meant for NSWC and FMV to hear.

How had she figured it out?

On the screen, Reuben’s eyes had widened in reaction to the question before his face shuttered again. He knew Benedikt—Benny—was living under the last name Kinder in the US.

In guessing at his last name, Kira had tipped her hand.

“She needs to get out of there,” Teague said to the room at large.

There were murmurs of agreement, but none of them could do a damn thing.