Page 11 of Code Name: Grit

The shipping terminal had its own rhythm—the waves against pilings, the containers being loaded, the trucks arriving on schedule—all creating patterns I could use.

The two-hour helicopter flight from K19’s Canada Lake headquarters had given us the opportunity to finalize our plan. Now, positioned in the field while our advance team maintained a perimeter around the terminal area, it was time to put it into action.

Through my binoculars, I tracked the security guard’s second clockwise rotation. He was five minutes behind schedule, which meant either a shift change or trouble.

“Movement at the south gate.” Grit’s voice came through my comms device, his presence seeming impossibly close despite him being positioned on the opposite end of the terminal. “Four-man team. Armed.”

My pulse quickened, but I kept my hands steady. My very first mission as an integral part of a unit that could make a real difference in the world was a dream come true for me. My mother once asked about mydisproportionatefascination with organized crime. Meaning outside of staying alive. The truth was, the more I knew about families like the Castellanos or Belcastros, the safer we’d all be.

“I knew that’s how they’d come in,” I mumbled, not really intending to say it out loud.

“Not many people make smugness cute.” His teasing warmed me.

“Why, thank you, Agent Harrison.” I adjusted positions to stay out of sight.

A cool breeze off the water carried the scent of salt and diesel, reminding me I wasn’t collecting information just to store it away. This time, it could be useful to someone other than myself. The idea of it made me giddy.

“Are you sure they’re Belcastro’s men?” Grit asked.

“Definitely.” It was easy to see they were mafioso by the way they kept their shoulders back, heads held high, and lifted their chin when someone who shouldn’t make eye contact did. How I knew who they were, though, was because I recognized their leader. “That’s Marco Venutti. He only handles priority acquisitions for the family. He was made underboss when Cassio became don.”

The only reason Marco rose to the position was because, as far as anyone knew, including the man himself, Cassio was childless. And from what I’d seen, the two men were as close as brothers by blood would be. Maybe closer.

“They’re setting up a perimeter,” I whispered, tracking their movements.

“For what?” Grit asked.

“Something big.” I zoomed in on their leader.

“Marco’s presence here confirms our intelligence that this is part of a coordinated offensive,” I added. “He usually oversees multiple operations simultaneously. If he’s here personally, it means this terminal is just one piece of a much larger strategy.”

My earpiece crackled as Dragon’s voice came through. “I’m picking up encrypted communications between Belcastro units that I can’t crack. The code isn’t standard for their operations.”

“Why would they suddenly switch up their encryption protocols?” Grit asked.

“Unknown,” she replied. “But the pattern suggests coordination with an external entity. This isn’t what we’ve seen from organized crime in the past.”

Through my scope, I observed him checking his watch—another tell. The Belcastros ran their operations like clockwork, especially the high-priority ones.

“How do you know these things?” Grit asked, his voice holding equal parts admiration and concern.

“Same way I know you’ve moved ten feet closer to my position in the last five minutes.” I smiled. “I pay attention.”

His soft chuckle sent a shiver along my spine. “Caught me.”

“Always.” The word slipped out before I could stop it.

A flash of movement caught my eye—one of Marco’s men speaking urgently into a radio. Within seconds, the entire team’s posture changed. They were expecting someone.

“Activity at the north entrance,” Grit reported. “Multiple vehicles approaching.”

I swung my binoculars toward the incoming convoy. Two black SUVs led the way, followed by an unmarked panel van.

“Something’s off.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking—” I broke off as the first SUV’s window lowered. “We’ve got company.”

---