Free Fog of War (Justin Hall # 3) by Ethan Jones

toll and soon enough they were zooming across the four-lane highway going east toward CIA headquarters in Langley.
    “Any good news from Grozny?” Justin asked, setting the cruise control at sixty-five miles per hour.
    Carrie shook her head. “No, nothing. No one knows where my dad’s remains were transferred.”
    Carrie had spent many years trying to discover the truth about her father’s death and find his grave. A few months ago, she had received new information from Romanov, a rich and powerful Russian oil baron about the location of a grave containing the remains of her father. It was supposed to be in northern Grozny, Chechnya. Carrie had passed two weeks on the ground, searching and gathering information. The last time Justin had heard from her—three days ago—she was no closer to finding the grave that when she had started.
    “I’ve hired two investigators on the ground to keep searching,” Carrie said. “The place is a mess because of the war with Russia. The Russians bombed the hell out of Chechnya in general and Grozny in particular.”
    “But the bombing spared the gravesite?”
    Carrie nodded, her eyes flickering. “Right. My dad was supposedly buried by Russian soldiers hastily, during the night. It was not in a regular cemetery, but in a field, next to a hospital. Now the hospital lies in ruins, and the field has been dug out. They’re building a couple of apartment complexes. Three witnesses have confirmed that some remains were moved about two years ago, before they started work. But no one knows where. The paperwork trail is a nightmare.”
    “Have you asked Romanov about it?”
    “No, and I’m not planning to. I hate owing that man.”
    Carrie’s jaws tightened, and her eyes narrowed to small dots. She looked away, out the window.
    “He has access to classified intel from the KGB era. It could make your search much easier.”
    Carrie turned her head to Justin. “And what will it cost me? What will Romanov ask in exchange from me? From us?”
    “I know, but this is very important to you. You need closure.”
    “And I will get it. I’m working on it.” Her voice grew louder, while she impatiently waved her hand in front of her face. “And I don’t think KGB or FSB was involved in the transfer of the remains.”
    Justin nodded, but said nothing. He knew Carrie’s pride and stubbornness.
    They rode in silence for a few seconds, then Carrie asked, “How’s Anna?”
    “Very excited about our trip to New York. She’s never been there. She got us tickets to Broadway. Chicago. It plays at the Ambassador.”
    “Oh, I love Chicago. It’s fantastic. I saw it when they came to Ottawa, I happened to be in town. What else are you going to do in New York?”
    “We only have one day, so we’ll just hang out and see the sights. The musical is in the evening, then we’re flying back to Ottawa.”
    “It will be nice. You deserve a break.”
    “Yeah, it’s a break, but not long enough. We haven’t seen each other in five weeks. But McClain wants a full debrief on the Iranian op and whatever CIA gives us today.”
    “How do you find working with McClain?”
    Carrie avoided using the submissive word ‘for,’ replacing it with the neutral ‘with.’ A long time ago, it had been established that Justin did not work for someone. He did not work for his boss; he worked for his country. Carrie did not work for him; they worked together. Carrie knew that. McClain had started to learn it. He was not very happy about it, but he was beginning to live with this fact.
    “He’s a great guy. Very attentive, curious, but not nosy. Quick, but not rushed.”
    Carrie had met McClain only once, right after he was assigned to replace Claire Johnson, their former boss, who had been forced to leave the Service. Then Carrie took a leave of absence to go to Grozny and had yet to work with McClain on any field operations.
    Justin said, “He’s much different from Johnson.”
    Carrie shook her head.