Page 47 of The Enforcer’s Pawn

He cannot build fake charities, move Boston money, touch family weak spots, and make Patrick’s Blacklist entry look real enough to pass before Volkov even knows what it has pulled into the house.

Leonid looks at the packet again. “Patrick built the entry. Oleg helped it pass.”

Yuri nods. “That is what the logs show.”

He clicks into the New Harbor Medical Aid packet. A string of numbers fills the screen.

He enlarges the last section. “The same template was used six months ago by Vostok Meridian Renovations.”

Abramov looks at me.

I know the name. Every man at this table knows it.

Vostok Meridian is a construction front tied to Morozov’s hotel work outside Moscow. We never proved Morozov owned it, but we knew his people protected it.

After the fire that killed my parents, money moved through a Vostok Meridian contractor account. A weapons courier was caught in a Vostok Meridian van near Tula. One of Morozov’s city men fixed two permits for it.

My hands stay loose at my sides.

Yuri opens another pane. “There’s more. Oleg deleted a mail thread two days ago. It was sitting in junk.”

“Junk?” Leonid asks.

“The filter caught it before Oleg cleared it,” Yuri says.

He brings up the recovered message. “The message had no subject, one attachment, and four words.”

The message appears on the screen.

Use last night’s window.

Maksim leans closer. “Sender?”

“Burner address,” Yuri says. “Dead now. The recovery email was reused.”

Abramov reads it from the screen. “VM-admin.”

Yuri nods. “The same recovery email was used on two Vostok Meridian subcontractor portals.”

The room goes still.

Oleg touched the paperwork. Patrick pushed Cara into the Blacklist. Vostok appears beside the route. Patrick used a dirty path Morozov’s people may already have been watching.

Maksim looks at the screen for a long moment. “That’s one link.”

Yuri doesn’t smile. “Second one is uglier.”

He opens the private security stop near Novorossiysk. The contractor name sits in black text, plain enough to pass.

Belyakov Protective Services.

“Petrov flagged them last year,” Yuri says. “They stopped Volkov shipments and called it a customs problem. Both trucks moved after Morozov’s people made calls.”

Abramov’s eyes stay on the screen. “We knew Belyakov was dirty. We didn’t have proof they were working for Morozov.”

Petrov’s finance man sets another page on the table. “Now we have a stronger link. Belyakov got paid from Patrick’s money trail twelve minutes after Oleg approved the Riga correction.”

Maksim looks at the payment record. His hand closes around the edge of the table. The wood gives a small sound under his grip, and no one in the office breathes loudly.