From Russia, With Tea and Treachery, Evelyn Chambers Cozy Mysteries: Book 5

Sample Chapter

CHAPTER ONE

Evelyn Chambers sat in a simple chair and watched sleet hit the window of Anthony Torres’s office at CIA headquarters. Droplets of water slid down the glass, creating abstract patterns, and then her reflection caught her eye.

Not bad for seventy-two, she thought as she briefly studied herself. Silver hair in a stylish cut, minimal makeup that worked with her age rather than fighting it, warm brown eyes that held more confidence than they had six months ago. Today she saw an acuity that hadn’t been there before . . . well, in this new line of work.

“Good morning, Evelyn,” Torres said as he leaned back in his desk chair, steepled his hands, and gazed at her. “You’re looking well.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “I’m feeling well.”

After a quick trip to Australia two weeks ago, she did feel normal again, and had settled back into her routines: morning coffee with her best friend, Margaret; cozy afternoons around the house, her four cats always providing entertainment; visits with her daughter, Kyra, and her son, Vince, and his family. And of course, plenty of time with Roger Reed, a retired veterinarian and a close friend. Life was good, and she figured there wouldn’t be any excitement for a while. Then Torres had called yesterday afternoon.

“Could you come to Langley first thing in the morning?” he’d asked with a clipped tone she’d learned meant something was afoot. “Eight AM?”

No explanations, no small talk. Just that edge of urgency that had her mind spinning through possibilities all night. She’d fought rush hour traffic and had arrived with plenty of time to spare this dreary mid-January morning, and even though she was forcing herself to remain calm, her nerves buzzed as she glanced around.

Her supervisor’s office looked exactly as it had since her first visit—aggressively anonymous, like it was designed to fade from memory the moment you left it. His small oak desk faced her chair, its surface clear except for a laptop, a black desk phone, a single manila folder, and a white coffee mug. Standard filing cabinets lined one wall, their gray metal making the room feel colder. The sole decoration was a framed photo of the Washington Monument on one wall, so bland her gaze slid right past it. No family photos, nothing personal to the man.

Torres himself matched his surroundings, wearing a plain white shirt and unremarkable blue tie. His salt-and-pepper hair looked messier than usual though, like he’d been running his hands through it since he’d arrived at Langley. The man was an enigma to her. She knew little of him, not even whether he was married or had children.

“We’ve got a situation in Moscow,” Torres began, not bothering with more small talk.

A situation.

Ah, the euphemisms, Evelyn thought wryly. What would covert operations be without them?

He opened the folder, pulled out a photo, and slid it across the desk. “This is Jenny Shaw. One of ours. FSB picked her up three days ago.”

“FSB?”

“Federal Security Service, or Federal’naya Sluzhba Bezopasnosti.” He said the last part in flawless Russian. “It’s Russia’s security agency and intelligence service, the main successor agency to the Soviet-era KGB, which was dissolved in 1991 with the collapse of the Soviet Union.”

“I see,” Evely murmured.

“The FSB handles domestic intelligence and counterintelligence within Russia.”

He gestured at her, and she picked up the photo and studied it. Jenny appeared to be in her late thirties or early forties, with blond hair pulled into a ponytail and soft features that managed to look both approachable and forgettable. Exactly the kind of face that could blend into any embassy party, government function, or other activity “one of ours” might do.

“Jenny’s an experienced field operator in Eastern Europe,” Torres continued. “She speaks flawless Russian, has deep cover experience, and is completely reliable. They’re holding her at a detention center in Kapotnya, an industrial district in southern Moscow. Nothing but factories, warehouses, and smokestacks. A perfect place for a detention facility.” Torres’s mouth tightened. “No tourists wandering through, no Western journalists asking questions. Just workers who know better than to notice anything unusual.”

Evelyn continued to look at the photo, memorizing it, knowing Torres wouldn’t be showing it to her unless the woman was important. Jenny’s eyes held that same sharp intelligence she’d seen in other agents, with a hint of a constant awareness that came with living under cover. Evelyn wondered what those eyes looked like now, after three days in Russian custody.

“Why was she in Russia?” Evelyn asked. “I mean, what’s her cover story?”

“She was supposedly a university researcher, studying urban industrial development. She hasn’t been there very long.” He frowned. “And then she was arrested for taking unauthorized photographs and collecting data in a restricted zone near Moscow. She’s proclaiming her innocence, has said she was only doing research, and she had no idea she shouldn’t have been in the area. We don’t know how long her cover story will hold, though. We need someone to visit her,” Torres said as he locked eyes with Evelyn. “Someone who can pass as her mother.”

The request hung in a heavy silence between them. Six months ago, Evelyn would have shown her surprise openly. Now she kept her face carefully neutral, even as her mind raced through implications. “Tell me more.”

“We’ll create the cover identity, like we did when you went to Hungary. But this is a different level of operation entirely.” Torres leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. “Higher stakes, closer scrutiny. Everything has to be perfect.”

The mention of Hungary brought thoughts of her own children floating to the surface. Kyra, always the practical one, who’d eventually seen through her mother’s excuses for four sudden international trips in the last several months. Who worried but understood her mother’s need for purpose after Henry’s death. And Vince, still believing his mother had developed a sudden passion for international travel. The irony of playing someone else’s mother while lying to one of her own children wasn’t lost on her.

“Why me?” Evelyn asked, keeping her voice level. “Why not send another agent?”

“I can’t get into all the details, but another agent barely escaped when Jenny was nabbed. He may be compromised, and there’s no way he can show up at the detention center.” His eyes momentarily twinkled. “And you’re uniquely qualified for this role, Evelyn. Your age, your demeanor—you’re the perfect cover. Who better to visit Jenny than her worried mother?”

Evelyn gave the proposed mission quick thought. She could refuse, and Torres wouldn’t hold it against her. And then what? It didn’t take long for her to make a decision. “What exactly would you need me to do?” she asked as she handed back the photo.

Torres took it with a relieved smile. “Jenny’s been informed through a lawyer that you’re coming. She has crucial intelligence she was sharing with our other agent. There’s more, so during your visit, she’ll guide the conversation and pass that information to you through pre-arranged code words she was using with the other agent.” He paused to make sure she understood. “You’ll need to memorize everything perfectly. No notes, no recordings, nothing written that could be found.”

“The information is that sensitive?”

“More than anything you’ve handled before.” Torres took a slow sip of coffee. “I’m sure the detention center will be documenting your conversations, so you’ll need to be careful.”

“Why can’t I just send you the information?”

“You will, and we’ll analyze it. However, Novak’s deep undercover right now, so he has no direct contact with us at the moment. That’s why he was working with Jenny, meeting her in person. Whatever she tells you, he needs to know it too, but we can’t risk breaking his cover with any kind of electronic communication. You’ll have to pass it to him in person.”

Evelyn nodded. “Tell me about access to the facility.”

“We’ve handled the bureaucratic side. You’ll need written permission from the prosecutor’s office, and that’s being arranged now. All visits have to go through official U.S. embassy channels, which is standard diplomatic protocol that ensures detained American citizens receive visits from embassy staff, legal representatives, and family contacts. That’s also being taken care of. Don’t worry, even the FSB has to comply with these international rules.”

“This can all be done so fast?” she asked. “I would’ve thought it’d be hard for a family visit so soon after her arrest.”

“Money talks. Especially in Moscow. We greased some wheels as well to help speed things up.” He put the photo back in the file and shuffled through other papers. “The other agent is still in place, and during your conversation Jenny will tell you where to meet him. When she mentions tea, what follows will be the meeting location. They arranged this protocol before her arrest.”

“And the rest of the coded information?”

“You’ll pass that along to the agent, and you’ll fly home.”

Evelyn nodded. It sounded easy, but her mind was already working through scenarios, the what-ifs. Last summer, she was a widow trying to make sense of her husband’s mysterious death. Now she was a part-time CIA consultant undertaking international missions, not overwhelmed by a trip to Russia but instead thinking more like an operative, analyzing angles and contingencies.

“Walk me through the risks,” she said.

“On paper, you’re just a concerned mother visiting her daughter in custody. It happens more often than you’d think.” Torres eyed her. “Off paper, you’re passing along highly sensitive intelligence. If the Russians realize what’s happening, it’ll be very dangerous for you.”

“They won’t,” Evelyn said, surprised at her confidence. “How long will I be there?”

“Three, four days maximum. It’s a quick, in and out trip.”

“As long as it goes as planned.”

“Nothing’s going to go wrong. You’re a mother visiting her daughter. Keep it simple.” He paused. “You’ll get a secure phone, one that can’t be surveilled or traced, and you’ll update me as necessary. But if something feels off when you visit the detention center, if anything seems wrong, you abort. Immediately. Call me, and get to the embassy.” He tapped his desk. “Oh, no personal devices this time. It’s too dangerous.”

Evelyn frowned. “What if something happens at home? Kyra or Vince might need to reach me.”

“What can happen in the time you’re there?” She stared at him, and his voice softened. “I’ll personally monitor things and contact you if there’s any emergency with your family.”

“And my cats,” she murmured, thinking of her four-legged companions.

Torres raised an eyebrow but nodded. He knew how important her felines were to her. “Yes, even your cats. Any emergency, you’ll know.”

“Thank you.”

“One more thing,” he said, his expression grave. “This is absolutely secret. Not even Kyra can know the details of this mission.”

Evelyn’s thoughts drifted to Roger. What would he say about another sudden trip? He’d been happy about all her traveling, but would he be suspicious of yet another trip so soon after Australia? Their friendship had deepened over these months, which made the deceptions harder. Sometimes she caught him watching her with questions in his eyes, waiting for truths she couldn’t share. At least Kyra was no longer in the dark.

“Can I tell her where I’m going?” Evelyn asked.

Torres ran a hand through his hair. “It’ll worry her.”

“Not knowing will be worse.”

“Fine, but no details of the mission. Only that you’re going to Russia.”

“What do I tell others?”

“That’s your call, but keep it simple. Run it by me before you leave.” Torres gestured vaguely. “You’ve been called away on a family matter.”

“I’ve used that excuse before.”

“You’ll think of something.” He picked up the desk phone receiver, seeming too busy to suggest something else. “Send Rudy in.”

Seconds later the door opened, and Rudy entered, a file folder in one hand. If Torres cultivated strategic blandness, Rudy elevated it to an art form. He was mid-thirties, medium height and build, with brown hair and dark eyes, his features so ordinary they seemed to shift and blur in memory. The perfect operative, someone whose description would have witnesses contradicting each other within minutes.

“Rudy will give you a crash course,” Torres explained. “Detention center protocols, Russian customs, and of course, your code training. We need you ready fast.”

“When do I leave?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

“Oh,” was all she could muster. She knew the mission was urgent, but the timing still momentarily threw her off balance.

“The embassy’s expecting you Thursday morning,” Rudy added, his voice as neutral as his appearance.

“Of course,” she said.

Evelyn gathered her coat, feeling tension build in her shoulders. This wasn’t like Australia or her other assignments. An American agent in a Russian prison raised the stakes exponentially.

“Ready, Mrs. Chambers?” Rudy asked from the doorway.

She nodded, stood up, and glanced out the window. The sleet had morphed into heavy snow that coated the window in white. Evelyn thought about Moscow’s brutal winters, about detention centers, and coded conversations. About how life could change so completely in six months.

“Good luck, Evelyn,” Torres said, his expression unreadable.

“Thank you.”

She followed Rudy out the door, knowing the next few days would determine whether Jenny Shaw made it home, and whether Evelyn’s burgeoning career would continue.

Absolutely loved this book! Can’t wait for the next one. This series has more depth than the Mrs Pollifax series by Dorothy Gilman which are also good but not as realistic. Please keep expanding on the characters and write many many more!! ~Reader review