Page 67 of Code Name: Admiral

“Because Grit knows we met?”

“Affirmative.”

“So why’d you risk it?”

“I didn’t have a choice.” As I watched him walk toward his car parked on Main Street, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this conversation had raised as many questions as it answered. Was he telling the truth? Setting me up? Playing some deeper game?

Only one way to find out.

“You get all that?” I asked quietly.

“Every word,” Tank’s voice came through my earpiece. “Want me to have someone check out the safe house?”

“Yeah. But hold off a bit. If Sweeney is setting a trap, he’ll have eyes on it. Since he expects we’ll head straight there, it will throw him off when we don’t.”

“You’re convinced he’s the mole?”

“I’m not convinced of a fucking thing, Tank. Are you?”

“Hell no.”

Dawn was breaking as we headed back north toward Canada Lake. The first shift workers were starting to appear on Gloversville’s streets—at the diner, the hospital, the few remaining factories. I had a lot to tell Alice, and even more to figure out. But one thing was clear—whether Sweeney was lying or telling the truth, someone was making moves against us.

And we were running out of time to figure out who.

21

ALICE

Tension seeped off Pershing as he walked into the bedroom where I’d been attempting to meditate. He was back far earlier than I’d expected him. “What happened?” I asked.

He sat beside me and pulled me onto his lap. The early morning darkness still clung to the windows, and the only light came from the dying embers in the fireplace.

“Sweeney claims Grit pulled Sarah’s protective detail a week before she died,” he began. “He says there’s proof in a safe house in Gloversville—evidence that goes beyond the bureau, higher up. DOJ and above.”

I processed this, my fingers instinctively reaching for the clear quartz crystal I kept close. The stone’s cool surface helped ground me as my mind raced through the implications. “Do you believe him?”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore. He also said there’s a sealed indictment against you. Espionage, cyberterrorism.”

I laughed, but it sounded hollow. “Of course there is. They need a fall guy.” I itched to get to my workstation. If Sweeney was telling the truth about Sarah’s protective detail being pulled, there would be traces in the system. Even if they’d tried to hideit, I’d find them. No one could erase digital footprints completely—there were always echoes, fragments, crumbs left behind.

“What are you thinking?” Pershing asked, resting his cheek against my hair.

“I’m thinking we need to verify his claims without walking into an obvious trap. If Sarah had protection, there will be records. Assignment logs, shift schedules, expense reports. There will also be documentation of that protection being pulled.”

“Not yet. I need to hold you a little while longer.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Wanna go back to bed?”

“More than anything, except if we do, I’ll want more than you’re ready to give.”

“Pershing, I?—”

He kissed me. The kind that made my toes curl. “We’re getting close, Alice. We need to wait.”

I agreed, as hard as it was to accept.

“Sweeney said Grit’s having him followed.”

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