Page 55 of Code Name: Admiral

I considered his words carefully. If he was the mole, this could all be elaborate misdirection. If he wasn’t, pushing him away could cost me a valuable ally. The temperature in the basement suddenly felt colder.

“The timing of Bobby’s death is interesting too,” he added. “Right when the investigation into corruption was heating up. Almost like someone wanted to make sure he couldn’t talk either.”

That thought had occurred to me as well. Bobby might have been working for the Castellanos, but he was also a potential weak link. Someone who knew too much.

“What do you want, Grit?”

“Let me in. Let me be a part of what you’re doing here. Let me help.”

“If I get even a hint that you’re working against us, I’ll kill you. I mean it.”

“I know.” He met my gaze steadily. “I’d expect nothing less. Additionally, you employing the old adage of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer to determine which I am makes sense here.”

“Why?” I asked.

“You may not believe me, but I trust you, Admiral. Enough that I’m considering leaving the bureau myself. Maybe even following you to K19. However, until this investigation concludes, until we know who the mole truly is and have brought him down, all of that is in a holding pattern.”

The creak of floorboards above us punctuated the silence that followed. Somewhere beyond the basement windows, K19 operatives patrolled the perimeter. I wondered if they were keeping threats out or keeping us in.

“One more thing,” Grit said as we headed back upstairs. “Have Alice start watching the task force’s communication patterns. The way they’re moving information, how investigative decisions are made.”

I nodded noncommittally, but my mind was already racing. Digging deeper, what evidence would we find? Who would be revealed as having been conveniently unavailable when major breaks in Castellano cases came through? How many promising leads had died on whose desk?

“You can stay in the guesthouse,” I said, turning to leave. “Be aware, though. You won’t be raising your little finger without me knowing about it. If that’s a problem, you know your way back to Manhattan.”

“Copy that.”

Had he issued me the same kind of ultimatum, I’d be on the road seconds after telling him to fuck off. That he’d accepted it, worried me more than relieved me.

Once upstairs,I found Diesel and Tank waiting. Everyone else was either on patrol, working on the security upgrades we’d identified, or manning other operations in the boathouse.

“Give Grit access to the Mud Lake camp,” I said to Tank, who nodded.

Diesel chuckled after the two men walked out. “I forgot about the names your grandfather gave the smaller camps.”

“I don’t think they were his idea. I’m pretty sure it started when the hotel was on the property.” Several smaller bodies of water were connected to Canada Lake, and each of the guest accommodations had been named for them—Mud, Green, Lily, Irving.

“Something just occurred to me.”

I raised my head. “What’s that?”

“Kane Mountain.”

“What about it?”

“Was it named for your family?” he asked.

I raised a brow.

“What? I’m a newbie around here. I don’t know these things.”

“Yes, Deez, it was named for our family. As was the KaneMountainGreat Camp—you know, what’s on the sign as you approach the main house.”

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to be a douche about it.”

We both chuckled. “I bet Bryar figured it out.”

Diesel nodded. “I’m sure you’re right about that. By the way, Tank wanted me to let you know nothing suspicious has turned up with the five agents Grit sent as backup.”

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