Code Name: Reaper (K19 Allied Intelligence Team Two Book 5), page 7
“This isn’t some romantic comedy. It’s a classified investigation with international security at stake,” I barked at him.
“So? You’re both adults. You’re both single. You’re both hot for each other. What’s the problem?” My brother walked away, but on his way up the hill, he shouted over his shoulder that we had work to do.
As I followed him inside, I considered his question. What was the problem? Actually, the answer was obvious. Amaryllis was someone I cared about more than I should. Which meant I was totally fucked.
7
AMARYLLIS
When Wren and I walked into the library, a new set of electronics was sitting on one of the tables. “Those are for you,” she said. “I’ll need to authorize your credentials. It won’t take longer than forty-five minutes.”
We sat down and worked through the prompts.
“I thought the NSA logins were complicated,” I muttered when she told me to lean forward for a retina scan.
She chuckled. “If Vera saw this, she’d flip out.”
Amelia Watkins, code name Vera, had been the director of the National Security Agency since long before I did my internship. I hadn’t had many interactions with her, since Dr. Henning—Mercury—was next up in my chain of command. It wasn’t until she disappeared that I spoke with the woman directly. If anyone asked me what she was like, the first word that would come to mind would be terrifying. On the other hand, the rumors I’d heard about Wren were worse. And yet, she’d made me feel more at ease than anyone else since we arrived. Except for Reaper.
As much as the man drove me to the point of angry frustration more often than not, I still knew he had my back. It was the reason I’d sent him the handful of texts I had. Deep down, I knew I could trust him. Not that I’d ever admit it to him. I had no doubt the bastard would find a way to use it as leverage in one of our arguments.
Wren checked the progress. “That was the last step. Try gaining access.”
I’d just gotten in when Nemesis joined us. “Apologies, I know the morning briefing ended an hour ago, but we’ve received intel I need to review with the full team.”
Wren and I both stood and followed her into the main room.
“Apologies, everyone,” Nemesis repeated when everyone returned and took a seat. I scanned the room. Two people were missing who’d been here a few minutes ago—Reaper and Blackjack. Where had they gone? And didn’t a “full team” include them? I hadn’t finished the thought when the front door opened and they walked in.
“Good, you’re here,” said Nemesis. “Reaper, your intelligence about the Western Naval Base in Odesa aligns with information that’s recently come in.” Satellite imagery appeared on the main display. “NSA assets have detected increased activity in that region over the past twelve hours.”
The image showed the sprawling naval facility along Ukraine’s coast.
“But most concerning is this.” She highlighted a single vehicle approaching from the north. “Diplomatic plates, moving toward the base as of six hours ago.”
“Aldrich?” Reaper inquired.
“High probability,” Nemesis confirmed. “And she’s not alone.”
“Is Vasiliev with her?” I asked.
“Negative. While we can’t get a good enough view from the overheads to know for sure, the analyst who brought this to my attention suggested it could be Luca Verlice, code name Triad.”
The man’s role within Minerva Protocol was to ensure all critical intelligence be independently verified by at least three separate origins. No single source, regardless of reliability, could be trusted without corroboration. Evidence had to be gathered in ways that could eventually be used in legitimate prosecutions, I thought by rote. I’d spent my downtime, what little there was of it when I was on the run, memorizing every word of the intel I’d received on the organization Prism founded.
“ETA?” Reaper asked.
“Under an hour,” Nemesis confirmed.
While everyone in the room may have been more concerned with stopping Aldrich, I couldn’t go along with it at the expense of Mercury’s life. “Can we intercept?”
“Affirmative except…” Wren answered for her, then walked closer to the screen. “Delfino, Hornet, come take a look.” I stood too and joined them.
“That isn’t Prism,” I stated with certainty.
Wren looked over her shoulder at me. “It’s not Triad, either. However, they look enough like them that we’ve used precious time and resources tracking them.”
Delfino leaned closer. “I agree.”
Nemesis blew the still up on the screen and put a photo of Prism next to it. It was immediately obvious that the woman driving was made to look like her, but only from a distance. “Which means we’ve been played, people,” she muttered.
Delfino returned to her seat. “So where is Prism?”
“Working that now,” Wren answered. “Nothing yet.”
“What about Triad?”
Wren turned to me. “Confirmed to be in Lausanne.”
“Incoming,” Nemesis announced in a raised voice as she motioned to the main display. Several feeds appeared, showing operatives wearing tactical gear moving through corridors.
I leaned forward, studying what was on the screen. “What are we looking at?”
“Raid at Odesa,” she responded.
I pointed to the insignia visible on several of the suits. “Those are NSA operatives.”
“Mercury is one of us,” Wren said without looking away from what was playing out in front of us.
We watched as room after room was cleared, followed by a negative report. Finally, when the op was called, Nemesis closed the feeds.
“I’m sorry, Amaryllis. I hoped our theory about Mercury being in Odesa would prove correct.”
“I’m not surprised,” I admitted. “Prism never would’ve sent a decoy if she was.”
Delfino returned to her laptop that was open on the table where she’d been sitting. “There’s more.”
“Go ahead,” said Nemesis.
She pulled up satellite imagery that showed movement across multiple borders. “Four vehicles entered the Czech Republic through mountain passes that haven’t been used in months. The timing and route selection suggest they’re testing new corridors.”
Wren leaned forward to study the imagery. “Expansion or desperation?”
“Unknown, but the timing coincides with increased border security at their established crossing points.” Delfino switched to another screen showing communication intercepts. “They’re adapting their methods faster than we anticipated, which suggests they’re under significant pressure.”
“This means something has them spooked. Blackjack, what progress have you made with Romanov’s financial picture?” Nemesis asked.
“Three shell companies dissolved in the last couple of days,” he reported. “Combined assets of approximately twelve million US dollars, all transferred to entities we haven’t identified yet.”
“They’re liquidating,” Reaper commented.
“Agreed,” said Nemesis. “We’ll adjust today’s assignments—Delfino and Hornet, I want a comprehensive analysis of those new crossing routes. Blackjack and Reaper, focus on tracking the asset movement and get a clear read on the new entities. I want to know who’s helping them move money and what they’re using it for. Wren and Amaryllis, pursue the historical gaps. I’m convinced there’s something in Mercury’s work history that explains her current situation and potential location, and we need to find it.”
Murmurs of agreement came from around the room.
Nemesis closed her laptop. “Anything else before we get to work?”
I thought about the text I’d received from Beacon that I still hadn’t answered. “I need a minute before we get started,” I said, looking between her and Wren.
“Copy that. Shall we meet in the library?”
“Please. Oh, and Delfino should join us.”
Once inside, I powered up the cell I was no longer using, then read her message out loud. “Received fresh intel on Mercury. Need to meet. Come alone.”
“Interesting,” Wren murmured. “When did you receive this?”
Time was a blur. “Um, sometime yesterday morning.”
“And you haven’t replied?”
“I have not.”
“I think Delfino should engage her,” Wren suggested. “She took Jekyll’s place on the council of twelve. She could ask Beacon what she knows.”
“While that makes sense,” Nemesis began. “I’d like to suggest instead that Amaryllis make contact directly. We need her intel, so the risk is worth the reward. Leave the ball in her court in terms of a meeting. How she responds will tell us a great deal.”
“Roger that.” I drafted a response that said I’d gone dark but was anxious for an update.
The response from Beacon was immediate. Tango SK.
I held out my phone so they could both see it.
“Troubled situation. End of transmission,” Wren said under her breath, interpreting the coded terminology.
Nemesis turned to Delfino. “Plan B, then. Work this from the Minerva angle.”
“Copy.”
Both women stood and left the room.
Once alone, Wren and I worked in focused silence for nearly an hour, cross-referencing known activities with intel that revealed little new information. It felt good to get lost in a deep dive into Mercury’s disappearance, especially with the coalition’s astounding resources. They had access to satellite imagery, financial tracking systems, and monitoring capabilities that rivaled what I’d worked with at the NSA. But more than that, they had a sense of shared purpose I hadn’t realized I missed.
I briefed her on my discovery of Prism’s collaboration with Vasiliev, walking her through my surveillance of the London meeting and the evidence I’d gathered. I kept it factual, but I could see the impact it had. While finding Mercury was the impetus for my investigation, the ramifications of Romanov working with Minerva were far-reaching, affecting the safety of everyone in intelligence.
“Tell me about the last few months, since you started the search,” she prompted.
I outlined the intel that led me to chase “Dr. Henning” sightings across multiple countries and how, instead of finding her, I realized there were other missing operatives as well as diplomats.
“Which is how you discovered Romanov’s existence?” she asked.
“Affirmative.”
“And all that time, you were searching for Suzanne Henning?”
“That’s right.”
She leaned against her chair and folded her arms. “And Vera never told you Henning was Mercury?”
“I was repeatedly stonewalled when it came to typical tracking methodologies,” I said. “Let alone knowing who I was really tracking.”
“It sounds to me like no one wanted you to find her.”
I agreed. “On the other hand, what I also didn’t understand was why Vera didn’t either fire me or insist I give up the search.”
“Exactly. A high-ranking NSA agent was missing for months, and yet you were the only one officially looking for her? Something doesn’t add up.” She tapped her lower lip. “Actually, it does.”
“How so?” I wondered out loud.
“You’re good, Amaryllis, which means the agency wanted to distract you, send you on a hunt that wouldn’t lead anywhere. Who were your primary assets? Were they NSA sources or your own?”
“A combination of both. And Beacon, who I believed was an NSA asset until a few days ago.”
“How did you discover otherwise?”
“An anonymous source sent me a highly classified document on Minerva Protocol.”
“Anonymous?”
“Initially, yes, but I’m sure Beacon was responsible, given the role I discovered she plays within the organization.”
“Why do you think she waited so long to read you in?” I hadn’t answered yet when Wren spoke again. “Jekyll’s death.”
“That’s what I thought too. Moreover, did Mercury’s disappearance trigger his return and Prism’s escalation with Romanov?” I thought about having the same conversation with Reaper and wondered if he and Blackjack were making any progress.
She leaned forward and rested her arms on the table. “We need to address this brick wall you’ve come up against with Vera.”
“And?”
She motioned for me to sit beside her, then pulled up the secure NSA site. Each search she did—for Suzanne Henning, Lyra Carrington, and Mercury—yielded no results.
“I’d like to intervene, if you wouldn’t mind,” Wren offered.
“I’d appreciate it if you would.”
“Good.” She reached for her cell and put the call on speaker.
“I’ve been expecting you to reach out,” Vera answered.
“I’m here with Amaryllis, looking for information about—”
“As I said, I’ve been anticipating hearing from you, but I’m afraid I cannot help. My hands are tied.”
Wren’s brow furrowed. “How do we untie them?”
“You’re slipping. How do you think?”
“Senate Intelligence?” I suggested.
“Well done, Amaryllis. And before you say anything else, I am unable to make the request on your behalf, given our agency is not officially conducting this investigation.”
“Understood.” Wren ended the call after thanking her, then standing. “We need Nemesis on this one.”
“I’ll see if she’s available,” I offered, already on my way out the door. When I found her with Reaper and Blackjack, I smiled inwardly, hating that I’d missed seeing him in the short amount of time we were apart.
“Taking a break?” Reaper asked.
“Um, no, but I do need to speak with Nemesis when it’s convenient.”
She glanced up at me. “Now’s good. What can I help with?”
The way the coalition operated would take some getting used to. At the NSA, investigative intel was shared with other team members on a need-to-know basis only. I appreciated the transparency here, even though I still found it jarring from time to time. After I reiterated the conversation Wren and I had had with Vera, Nemesis said she’d make the necessary calls and let us know what she discovered.
When she stood to leave, Reaper did too. “Got a minute?”
“Wren’s probably waiting.”
“This won’t take long, and it’s intel you should know.”
“Okay.” I followed him down the hallway, past the library, and into a solarium. “I did a little digging on Mercury’s tenure at the service academy,” he began after closing the door. “I didn’t say anything in front of Nem since my source insisted on total anonymity.”
“What did you find out?”
“Mercury requested the assignment. In fact, fought hard for it. Apparently, it required long-term deep cover placement. Something significant enough to explain why she needed to use the Henning identity for as long as she did.”
“Did your source know why?”
“Negative, but I found something else.”
My stomach clenched. “What?”
“I think Jekyll and Mercury’s association began years before the photo you have indicates.”
“Years?”
“When they were teenagers.”
My mouth gaped. “What makes you say that?”
He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then pulled out his phone and swiped the screen.
When he held it out for me and saw the two were dressed in caps and gowns, I gasped. “They went to high school together?”
“At Bethel-Rhodes Academy.”
The private school was less than ten miles from the home I grew up in. “I don’t understand,” I said more to myself than to him.
“Maybe one or both of them had some connection to your family,” Reaper said quietly.
There was a knock at the door, then it opened and Wren stepped inside. “Sorry, but Nemesis has something for us.”
“Right.” I turned to Reaper, and we both stood. “Thanks. Um, talk more later?”
“In the meantime, I’ll see what else I can find.”
He left, and I followed Wren to the library, grateful she didn’t ask what Reaper was referring to. I needed more time to process the information prior to discussing it with anyone but him.
When we walked in and Nemesis raised her head, I wondered if she already knew what he’d discovered or if what I was about to learn far surpassed it.
“Have a seat.” She motioned for us to sit on either side of her. “Apologies for not putting this into a brief. I wanted to review it with the two of you first.” A Department of Defense logo appeared on the screen. Beneath it read, “Operation Avalon,” and below that was the seal for SAP—Special Access Program—which indicated the highest level of classified intelligence.
She scrolled through the documents, reading as she went. “According to these files, thirteen years ago, a mission began, involving suspected systematic defense contract fraud. Military leadership, Pentagon officials, and defense contractors were implicated.”
She continued to highlight entries. “The suspected scheme involved government officials taking bribes to award defense contracts to specific companies at inflated prices, with the companies providing kickbacks to the corrupt officials.”
Wren leaned forward. “Who was the lead on the investigation?”
Nemesis’ gaze darted between Wren’s and mine. “Eleanor Aldrich.”
I rubbed my temples. Every new thing I learned revealed additional layers of deception and complexity, rather than clues to Mercury’s whereabouts. I wasn’t sure I was emotionally prepared for another fundamental shift in my understanding of the woman who had shaped my entire adult life.
Wren studied me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry. A bit tired, but please, go on.”
