Page 68 of Code Name: Tank
“What?” I asked.
She smiled. “That’s what you’d do.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I insisted on working, you’d make sure I was somewhere safe and warm instead of telling me not to.”
She was right. I’d never tell her what to do, and it wasn’t only because I respected the hell out of her—I also loved her. Not that she was ready to hear me say it yet.
20
DRAGON
After a night of very little sleep, Tank and I arrived at the command center just as Alice’s voice rang out across the room, cutting through the early morning quiet.
“Oh, my God. I think we figured it out!” She spun around in her chair, and our eyes met.
My pulse quickened as I approached her, noting the exhaustion in her eyes that suggested she’d been up all night, working. “You cracked Flint’s message?”
“Yes,” Tex said through the speakers. “It’s pointing to someone with legitimate access being coerced—not a willing criminal, but a victim. Based on the sophistication and coordination, this looks like Zaristani intelligence work.”
Tank and I exchanged glances at the mention of the small Middle Eastern nation.
Tex paused, and I could see him leaning forward on the screen. “I’ve seen these exact recruitment and coercion patterns before—when they compromised that finance minister in Montenegro three years ago. Same playbook: identify someone with high-level access, find their pressure points, then apply leverage until compliance seems like the only option.”
Alice looked up from her analysis. “What kind of leverage?”
Admiral stepped closer to our group, his expression dark as Tex continued. “Whatever works. Family threats, career destruction, fabricated criminal evidence. They’re methodical about it—they study their targets for months before making contact. By the time they move, they know exactly which buttons to push.”
Alice’s fingers flew across her keyboard, pulling up a new analysis screen. “Let me trace the authorization pathways on these transactions.” Data streams cascaded across the display—transaction logs, timestamps, digital signatures.
“There,” she said, pointing to a pattern emerging on the screen. “Look at the authorization codes used for the largest transfers. They’re all routed through the same Treasury access portal.”
Tank leaned over her shoulder, studying the data. “Can you identify the specific user credentials?”
Alice’s hands trembled as she worked. “Already on it.” She pulled up another window showing the login records. “The authorization signatures all trace back to...”—her face went pale—“Treasury Secretary access level. And look at these timestamps—they correspond exactly with the times when Hartwell had documented access to Treasury systems.”
I felt my stomach drop as the evidence mounted on the screen. Alice highlighted transaction after transaction, each one bearing digital signatures that could only have come from Hartwell’s personal access codes.
Tank moved closer to me, his presence steadying as Alice continued her analysis. “The pattern is consistent over months,” she continued, her voice quiet. “Small transactions at first, then escalating. But, Dragon, look at this.” She pulled up a log. “There are gaps in his normal communication patterns right beforeeach major transaction. Like someone was ensuring he had privacy to execute them.”
“Or ensuring he was isolated while they forced him to do it,” Tank said.
Alice’s expression grew pained as she looked at me. “Dragon, I’m so sorry, but the forensics are conclusive. Someone with Treasury-level authorization codes has been systematically authorizing these thefts. And those codes belong to James Hartwell.”
“Treasury-level access?” I asked.
“All the evidence points to Hartwell,” Tex confirmed quietly.
“No. It can’t be.”
I felt Tank move closer to me. James—the man who’d defended me when my colleagues had turned their backs. The man who’d vouched for my integrity when Internal Affairs was ready to destroy my career. “There has to be another explanation,” I whispered. “He would never?—”
Before I could finish, Alice’s monitoring system exploded with alerts. Red warnings flashed across every display as massive transfers began processing in real time, the numbers climbing so fast they were almost a blur.
“Oh my God,” Alice gasped. “These aren’t the small amounts we’ve seen previously. This is huge—millions moving right now.”
“Someone’s making their final play,” I said, watching the transfers process. “Enough money to fund Zaristani operations for months, or to disappear forever with a fortune.” I fumbled for my phone. “I need to reach James.”
