18. Admiral
18
ADMIRAL
“ I knew it was a test,” Grit said as soon as we reached the lower level. “The intel Doc and Merrigan shared? They wanted to see what I’d do with it.”
I studied him, keeping my expression neutral. The basement’s dim lighting cast shadows across his face, making it harder to read his expression. Admittedly, his quick admission caught me off guard—either he was more perceptive than I’d given him credit for or he was playing a deeper game.
“What would you have done with it?” I asked.
“Nothing. At least not yet. Which is exactly what they’d expect if I was the mole.” His arms hung at his sides, his fists clenched. “Look, I get it. Trust is in short supply right now. But I’m asking you to hear me out.”
I leaned against a support beam, arms folded. The familiar scent of lake water and pine seeped through the foundation, reminding me of childhood summers spent exploring these same rooms. Now, they felt different—charged with tension and unspoken suspicions—and it pissed me off. I’d inadvertently turned my sanctuary, my haven, into a place of turmoil.
“I’m listening.”
“It’s Sweeney.”
The suggestion hit me with the shock and awe Grit intended in order to throw me off. As he well knew, Sweeney had recruited me, mentored me, and fought for my early release from the Navy. He was the reason I was in the bureau at all. Memories flooded back—late nights pouring over case files in his office, the pride in his voice when he handed me my first promotion, countless moments of guidance and support.
While everything inside me protested Grit’s accusation, years of training kicked in, and I kept my expression impassive. Even as the weight of doubt I felt for the man who was directly above me in my chain of command settled in my stomach like lead.
“Think about it,” Grit continued. “He has the access, the connections, and most importantly, the cover of being above suspicion. Who better to protect the Castellanos than someone everyone trusts implicitly?”
I remembered seeing Sweeney at the briefing about Sarah’s death, standing in the back, observing. At the time, I’d found it curious, but nothing beyond that.
“He was an active participant at yesterday’s briefing, Admiral. Combine that with his unexpected appearance the other day, his subsequent interest in the investigation, and his push for the task force creation as well as certain lines of the investigation to be prioritized over others, and it begins to add up.”
“Which lines?”
“Starting with him naming Huxley as the task force leader.”
I had to agree. Grit’s announcement that he’d been named for the role raised my hackles. The man had retired a few months ago amidst rumors that he wasn’t anywhere near as sharp as he’d once been. I’d also heard some suspected he might be showing early signs of dementia. Given the two men were contemporaries, with careers spanning about the same number of years, if Sweeney had appointed him, it would be a red flag.
“Who do you think brought up your connection to Bobby? Not just that. Sweeney specifically questioned your involvement with Sarah’s sister and shared concern that you’d stepped outside agency protocol by bringing her here rather than utilizing a bureau safe house.”
I found it difficult to believe any of that was true. If Chad had suspicions, he’d address them with me directly. This tactic appeared to be a ploy on Grit’s part to turn me against him. On the other hand, he’d accomplished exactly what he set out to do: create doubt.
However, without proof, I couldn’t allow it to take hold.
“This task force,” Grit said, changing tactics when I didn’t respond. “They’re going to attempt to turn us against each other. Sarah’s reputation will be the first target—they’ll paint her as corrupt, suggest she was working both sides.”
“They can try.”
“They’ll come after you next. You’re vulnerable, and you know it. They’ll dig into every case you’ve worked, every decision you’ve made. They’ll question your loyalty and suggest you’ve been protecting the family all along.” He paused, letting that sink in. “And Alice?” He shook his head. “They’ll hit her with espionage charges. Her hacking activities alone could put her away for decades. One signature from the right judge, and she gets sentenced.”
My jaw clenched at the mention of Alice. The thought of her in custody, being interrogated and treated like a criminal, made my blood boil.
“Admiral, I’m on your side here. But whoever the mole is, they’re going to use this investigation to bury the truth so deep it’ll never see daylight. They’ll isolate you, discredit you, and when you’re vulnerable…” He left the implication hanging. “Think about Sarah. Why was she really killed? What did she find that scared them enough to take such a risk? And who better to have carry it out than Bobby?”
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 Kane Mountain Great 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.”
“Roger that.”
I was about to tell him about Grit’s accusation, but decided to wait. I hadn’t met Sweeney until after Diesel and I graduated from Cornell, and since he’d never worked for the bureau, he didn’t know him.
Before I could retreat to the morning room to talk to Alice, Tank returned.
“What’s your read on Grit?” Diesel asked when he walked in.
Tank hesitated.
“Go ahead,” I told him, quickly changing my mind about reading Diesel in. I’d ensured Tank overheard the entirety of my conversation with Grit and was anxious to get his opinion.
“He’s either telling the truth, or he’s one hell of an actor.”
Diesel’s head cocked. “What about?”
“He thinks Chad Sweeney is the mole.”
“Wait. Isn’t he the bureau’s deputy director?”
“Affirmative.” I turned to Tank. “What’s your gut telling you?”
“About Grit or Sweeney?”
“Either.”
Tank shook his head. “I can’t explain it, but I don’t think Grit’s our guy. I don’t know about Sweeney,” he said in a low tone of voice.
“What about any of the agents he sent?” Diesel asked.
“Professional, by-the-book types. Nothing stands out except maybe being too clean.”
I nodded. Sometimes, the absence of red flags was a red flag itself.
“There’s something else I wanted to mention,” Tank added. “Blackjack picked up chatter about additional movement in the city. Alessandro Castellano’s people are getting restless, and get this. Vincent’s gone dark.”
Dark? Interesting. He wouldn’t be for long once Alice got wind of it. No doubt she’d find him in a heartbeat.
“Are the brothers turning on each other?” Diesel asked.
“Looking that way. Alice’s digital breadcrumbs might be having the desired effect.”
Speaking of Alice, I was growing impatient to see her. I hadn’t since my conversation with Grit began, and I needed to. She’d become my touchstone. While she used crystals, sage, and meditation to find her balance, I’d come to rely on her soothing presence to find mine.
“If there’s nothing else, gentlemen…”
“In other words, he wants to spend time alone with Alice,” said Diesel, motioning for Tank to follow him out.
It wasn’t something I’d apologize for, and both men knew it.
As soon as I saw her seated in the same place she’d been earlier, a sense of peace settled over me.
“Hey,” she said, rubbing her eyes when I approached.
I stood behind her and massaged her shoulders. “You need to rest.”
“I’m fine.”
“Alice.” I turned her chair to face me. “You’re going cross-eyed.”
When she started to protest but yawned instead, I couldn’t help but smile.
“Just a short break. The investigation will keep.”
“But—”
I silenced her with a kiss. “Let me take care of you.”
The heat of desire flickered in her eyes.
She yelped then giggled when I picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. Once we both lay down, she curled into me like she belonged there. Maybe she did.
“Thank you,” she murmured against my chest.
“You’re welcome.” When I pulled her closer, I could feel her hardened nipples pressed against my chest. “I think I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
She smiled, and her cheeks flushed. “Not for that. Or this. Gah, what I mean is, I’m thanking you for something else.”
“What?”
“For not thinking I’m crazy. The hacking, the crystals, all of it.”
I turned to face her. “Nothing about you is crazy, Alice. As I said before, you’re extraordinary.”
Her eyes bored into mine. “You’ve been nothing but accepting of me when most people wouldn’t have been.”
“I’m not most people.”
“No,” she said softly. “You’re not.”
The kiss that followed was different from our others—deeper, more certain. When we broke apart, she settled back against my chest with a sigh, followed by another yawn.
I lay awake long after her breathing evened out, my mind cycling through tactical assessments and emotional revelations—the corruption in the bureau I’d dedicated my life to. The cousin I’d failed to save. The woman in my arms, who somehow made sense of a world gone mad. Grit.
From where I rested on the bed, I could see the lake reflecting the setting sun like scattered diamonds. Somewhere out there, the K19 teams moved through their patrol routes, silent shadows keeping us safe. In the distance, I heard the lonely cry of a loon—a sound that had always meant home to me.
I’d never believed in things like destiny or fate. My military training had taught me to trust in preparation, tactical advantages, and hard evidence. But holding Alice, knowing the impossible series of events that had brought us together, I had to wonder.
Maybe some connections transcended logic.
Maybe some people were meant to find each other.
Maybe her crystals and sage had as much power as my tactical plans.
The last thought I had before I drifted to sleep was that I’d do whatever it took to keep her safe. To help her find justice for Sarah. To be worthy of the trust she’d placed in me.
My phone vibrating with a message from Diesel woke me up.
Bryar is offering to bring dinner over again, it read.
That would be great, I responded without waking Alice to ask. While the nap I’d inadvertently taken was short but refreshing, the dark circles I’d noticed under her eyes earlier told me she needed a lot more rest than she was allowing herself.
Whether it was status quo for her or not, I’d meant it when I asked her to let me take care of her. While I intended to do just that, it didn’t mean I had any desire to change her or break her spirit. Little breaks like the one we’d taken were as hard as I’d push, and only when I sensed she really needed one.
“Hey,” she said. “Sorry, I fell asleep.”
I turned to face her. “Don’t be sorry. I did too. Diesel sent a message saying Bryar offered to bring dinner again.”
She smiled. “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear.”
“Yeah? Are you hungry?”
“Famished. I’m, um, not always great about eating as often as I should.”
Given her slight frame, I wasn’t surprised to hear it.
“Then I make terrible choices because I want all the food the minute my stomach starts grumbling.”
I chuckled. “I do the same thing. Coffee sustains me, though. Not that it’s a habit I’d brag about.”
She made a face. “Sarah was a coffee drinker too. I’ve never been able to stomach the stuff.”
“I’ll tell you this; it’s much better warm than cold. Even though that’s the way I end up drinking it.”
When we heard Diesel come in and announce food had arrived, I kissed her, then rolled from the bed. “Take your time. I’ll go help set up.”
“Right behind you,” she said, rolling off her side and heading into the bathroom.
It was only the four of us for dinner, and after the stress of the day, exhaustion settled over me as soon as I finished eating.
“Thanks for doing this again,” I said to Bryar. “I appreciate it, but don’t want you to feel like we expect it.”
“I don’t. Except I can’t stop myself from wanting to cook. Nesting, I guess,” she said, rubbing her stomach. “You may as well take advantage of it while it lasts.”
Once we’d said good night and they’d left, I told Alice to go relax while I cleaned up.
I found her seated on her meditation cushion, a little while later, eyes closed in concentration. Candlelight flickered across her face, creating an almost otherworldly glow. The peaceful expression she wore made my heart ache with tenderness.
As I approached, she opened her eyes. “Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey, yourself.” I sat down beside her, close enough that our shoulders touched. The scent of sage lingered in the air. “You okay?”
She leaned into me. “Better now.”
I wrapped my arm around her, drawing her closer. The events of the day—Grit’s revelations, the doubts about Sweeney, the constant tension of watching for threats—seemed to fade into the background. Here, with Alice in my arms, I could almost believe in a future beyond this investigation.
She turned to face me, and we kissed. What had started gentle quickly deepened as she shifted to straddle my lap. The weight of her, the warmth of her body pressed against mine, felt like coming home.
“Alice.” I breathed against her lips when her fingers tangled in my hair. The sweet taste of her mouth and the soft sounds she made were intoxicating.
“Touch me,” she whispered.
My hands slid under her shirt, tracing the curve of her spine. Her skin was soft and warm under my calloused fingers, and when my thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts, she shivered.
“Is this okay?” I asked.
She pressed closer. “More than okay.”
I explored her body slowly, reverently, learning what made her gasp and tremble. When I cupped her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples through the thin fabric of her bra, she moaned into my mouth. The sound sent fire through my veins.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmured, trailing kisses down her neck. “So perfect.”
Her hips rocked against mine instinctively, and I groaned. The friction was exquisite torture. I wanted her with an intensity that scared me, but I wouldn’t rush this. She deserved better than a frantic coupling born of fear and adrenaline.
“We should stop,” I said reluctantly, even as my body screamed in protest.
She rested her forehead against mine, breathing as heavily as I was. “You’re right,” she agreed. “But God, Pershing, the things you make me feel…”
“It’s the same for me, sweetheart.” I smiled, brushing my lips against hers once more. “Soon,” I promised. “When the timing’s right.”
We got ready for bed together, moving around each other with a familiarity that felt both new and completely natural. When she curled against my side, her head on my chest, I felt at peace like I only did with her.
“What did Grit want?” she asked sleepily.
As close as I felt to her right now, that I hadn’t shared my conversation with him filled me with regret. I told her everything, knowing I couldn’t—wouldn’t—keep secrets from her. She listened quietly, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest. The other thing I told her was that, according to Tank, Vincent Castellano had gone dark.
“Interesting,” she muttered. “So, do you believe Grit? About Sweeney?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “One minute, I do. The next, I think he’s the mole.”
She propped herself up on an elbow, looking at me in the darkness. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
I pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Whatever tomorrow brought—whether it was Castellano’s men, corrupt FBI agents, or both—we’d deal with it, side by side.
As I drifted off to sleep with Alice in my arms, I realized something profound: I was no longer just fighting for justice or truth. I was fighting for us. For the future we could have once this was all over. A future I intended to make damn sure we lived to see.
Outside, snow began to fall, covering tracks and erasing signs of movement around the property. In the boathouse, K19 operators monitored communications and sensor feeds. Somewhere in the city, the Castellano brothers circled each other like wolves. And in the dark halls of Federal Plaza, someone was setting forces in motion that would test us all.
But for now, at this moment, with Alice’s steady breathing and the repeated cry of a loon across the lake, I allowed myself to hope. Tomorrow would bring its own battles. Tonight was ours.