Page 54 of Code Name: Admiral

As good as I was at reading people’s reactions, albeit typically through a computer monitor, I was having trouble doing so withGrit. I wasn’t surprised, though. If he’d been working with the Castellanos or other organized crime all these years, steeling his responses would be innate.

So, how would we break him?

No one spoke for several minutes. Grit was the first to speak. “Admiral, can we talk privately?”

Pershing nodded without looking at me, then motioned for Grit to follow him downstairs.

I rolled my shoulders and got busy creating more chaos for the Castellanos. I couldn’t do too much all at once, but knowing that if Alessandro discovered Vincent had arranged for the hit on Bobby, the two brothers already had reason to be at odds inspired me to add more fuel to that flame.

18

ADMIRAL

“Iknew it was a test,” Grit said as soon as we reached the lower level. “The intel Doc and Merrigan shared? They wanted to see what I’d do with it.”

I studied him, keeping my expression neutral. The basement’s dim lighting cast shadows across his face, making it harder to read his expression. Admittedly, his quick admission caught me off guard—either he was more perceptive than I’d given him credit for or he was playing a deeper game.

“What would you have done with it?” I asked.

“Nothing. At least not yet. Which is exactly what they’d expect if I was the mole.” His arms hung at his sides, his fists clenched. “Look, I get it. Trust is in short supply right now. But I’m asking you to hear me out.”

I leaned against a support beam, arms folded. The familiar scent of lake water and pine seeped through the foundation, reminding me of childhood summers spent exploring these same rooms. Now, they felt different—charged with tension and unspoken suspicions—and it pissed me off. I’d inadvertently turned my sanctuary, my haven, into a place of turmoil.

“I’m listening.”

“It’s Sweeney.”

The suggestion hit me with the shock and awe Grit intended in order to throw me off. As he well knew, Sweeney had recruited me, mentored me, and fought for my early release from the Navy. He was the reason I was in the bureau at all. Memories flooded back—late nights pouring over case files in his office, the pride in his voice when he handed me my first promotion, countless moments of guidance and support.

While everything inside me protested Grit’s accusation, years of training kicked in, and I kept my expression impassive. Even as the weight of doubt I felt for the man who was directly above me in my chain of command settled in my stomach like lead.

“Think about it,” Grit continued. “He has the access, the connections, and most importantly, the cover of being above suspicion. Who better to protect the Castellanos than someone everyone trusts implicitly?”

I remembered seeing Sweeney at the briefing about Sarah’s death, standing in the back, observing. At the time, I’d found it curious, but nothing beyond that.

“He was an active participant at yesterday’s briefing, Admiral. Combine that with his unexpected appearance the other day, his subsequent interest in the investigation, and his push for the task force creation as well as certain lines of the investigation to be prioritized over others, and it begins to add up.”

“Which lines?”

“Starting with him naming Huxley as the task force leader.”

I had to agree. Grit’s announcement that he’d been named for the role raised my hackles. The man had retired a few months ago amidst rumors that he wasn’t anywhere near as sharp as he’d once been. I’d also heard some suspected he might be showing early signs of dementia. Given the two men were contemporaries, with careers spanning about the same number of years, if Sweeney had appointed him, it would be a red flag.

“Who do you think brought up your connection to Bobby? Not just that. Sweeney specifically questioned your involvement with Sarah’s sister and shared concern that you’d stepped outside agency protocol by bringing her here rather than utilizing a bureau safe house.”

I found it difficult to believe any of that was true. If Chad had suspicions, he’d address them with me directly. This tactic appeared to be a ploy on Grit’s part to turn me against him. On the other hand, he’d accomplished exactly what he set out to do: create doubt.

However, without proof, I couldn’t allow it to take hold.

“This task force,” Grit said, changing tactics when I didn’t respond. “They’re going to attempt to turn us against each other. Sarah’s reputation will be the first target—they’ll paint her as corrupt, suggest she was working both sides.”

“They can try.”

“They’ll come after you next. You’re vulnerable, and you know it. They’ll dig into every case you’ve worked, every decision you’ve made. They’ll question your loyalty and suggest you’ve been protecting the family all along.” He paused, letting that sink in. “And Alice?” He shook his head. “They’ll hit her with espionage charges. Her hacking activities alone could put her away for decades. One signature from the right judge, and she gets sentenced.”

My jaw clenched at the mention of Alice. The thought of her in custody, being interrogated and treated like a criminal, made my blood boil.

“Admiral, I’m on your side here. But whoever the mole is, they’re going to use this investigation to bury the truth so deep it’ll never see daylight. They’ll isolate you, discredit you, and when you’re vulnerable…” He left the implication hanging. “Think about Sarah. Why was she really killed? What did shefind that scared them enough to take such a risk? And who better to have carry it out than Bobby?”

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