Page 62 of Code Name: Grit

“Send me what you’ve got,” he replied, his casual manner belying the methodical thoroughness I could already see in his eyes.

I returned to my research while Alice and Dragon worked with Tex. Finding nothing in the official files, I switched tactics, digging into newspaper archives from the eighties and early nineties. Thirty minutes into my search, a headline caught my eye. “Patriarca Underboss Killed in Suspected Mob Hit.”

The article detailed the murder of Antonio Patriarca—Giovanni’s father and Rafael’s brother—found shot in his car outside a restaurant in Queens. While the piece mentioned suspected Belcastro involvement, no arrests were ever made.

As I continued scanning the article, a video-call notification appeared on my screen from Kodiak, who was monitoring one of our surveillance feeds in Manhattan. I accepted it, keeping the volume low.

“You need to see this,” he said, sharing his screen. The footage showed Keller entering what appeared to be a private club. He paused at the entrance, scanning the room. When he spotted someone off camera, his expression changed—a flash of what looked like genuine conflict crossing his features before he composed himself.

“While it’s hard to gauge in surveillance footage, if forced to comment, I’d say he regrets what he’s doing,” Kodiak added.

“I found something,” I said to Grit after the video call ended. He read the article over my shoulder.

“Does it mention Cassio specifically?”

“Not by name, but there’s a quote from a ‘law enforcement source’ suggesting the hit was ordered by ‘a high-ranking member of the Belcastro family.’ Cassio would have been rising in the ranks at that time, but it’s not clear if he was directly involved.”

“So this is personal for Giovanni,” Grit mused. “Blood feud on top of a territorial dispute.”

“Makes him unpredictable,” I said.

Grit’s eyes met mine. “And dangerous.”

Across the room, Alice groaned in frustration. “They’re adapting to every countermeasure. It’s like they know our playbook.”

“Because they probably do,” Tex replied through the video link, his expression growing serious. “These signatures match tactics I’ve seen from private contractors who work with federal agencies. I’ve got contacts in both worlds—legitimate security and otherwise—and this has the hallmarks of unofficial operations. The kind of work that happens off the books.”

“Keller,” Grit muttered.

Admiral, who had been quietly observing all this, finally spoke. “I need to make a call. Grit, with me.”

As they entered the small conference room, I continued searching for connections, specifically between Giovanni Patriarca and the Belcastros. Whatever had happened thirty-plus years ago might be driving the current conflict as much as territorial ambitions, and I needed to understand if Cassio was directly involved or not.

Dragon approached my station. “Found anything useful?”

I nodded. “It looks like a high-ranking Patriarca capo has a personal vendetta against the Belcastros. His father was killed in what was likely a Belcastro-ordered hit in the late eighties.”

“That explains a lot,” she said, leaning against my desk. “The Patriarcas’ movements have been more aggressive than pure business would dictate.”

“I need to map out where both families’ current operations intersect,” I said. “If Giovanni is planning revenge, he’ll target what they value most.”

Dragon sent the necessary data to my terminal, and I overlaid the territories, identifying five key locations where both families had significant interests.

By the time Admiral and Grit returned thirty minutes later, I had a comprehensive analysis ready.

“K19 Security Solutions is mobilizing additional resources,” Admiral announced to the room. “Doc and Merrigan Butler agree with your concern about the potential for an all-out war between the families.”

“I’ve identified five flash points where both organizations have major operations,” I said, bringing up my map on the main display.

Admiral studied it. “We need eyes on these locations.”

“I’ll set up remote surveillance on three of them,” Tank offered.

“Keep personnel exposure to a minimum. If this escalates, I don’t want our people caught in the crossfire,” Admiral ordered.

“Roger that,” said Tank, getting to work.

Seconds later, Alice cried out in triumph. “Tex, you beautiful genius!”

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