20. Admiral
20
ADMIRAL
“ T he way Tank’s hovering near those burritos, we better grab them fast,” I joked when Alice and I went into the kitchen and saw him standing at the counter, eating.
“Have at ’em,” he said, moving out of our way but grabbing one more before leaving the kitchen.
We loaded up plates, made coffee and tea, then returned to the bedroom where I watched Alice savor each bite.
“What?” she asked.
“I like seeing you enjoy something so simple.”
She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Simple pleasures are sometimes the best ones.” Her eyes met mine with heat that had nothing to do with breakfast. “Speaking of which…I usually do yoga in the mornings.”
“Are you inviting me to join you?”
“Maybe.” She set her empty plate aside. “Though I warn you, some of the poses are challenging.”
I raised a brow. “Are you saying I’m not flexible enough?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” She slid off the bed and held out her hand. “Come on, G-man. Let’s see what you’re made of.”
How could I resist that challenge? Plus, watching Alice move through yoga poses promised to be its own reward. “Lead the way.”
I was helping her move her meditation cushion out of the way so she could set up her yoga mat when my cell phone buzzed. The message was brief but hit me as hard as if it had been a physical punch to the gut.
Need to meet. Task force isn’t what you think. Myers Park, 0400. Come alone. CS
I deleted it immediately, but the words burned in my mind. The message was from Chad Sweeney, my mentor and the man Grit had suggested was the mole. Even thinking he could be felt like a betrayal of all he’d done for me.
“Are you okay?” Alice asked. The way she studied my face with her penetrating green eyes felt like she could see right through me.
“Yeah.” The lie tasted bitter. I’d promised her we’d work through everything we faced together, but this, I wasn’t ready to share. Not when the wrong move could get us both killed. “Just bureaucracy crap.”
She nodded, but I could tell she wasn’t convinced. “More yoga, less bureaucracy,” she said, patting the mat beside her. “At least for the next half hour.”
I watched her move through her poses, grateful for this moment of peace even as my mind raced with possibilities. If Grit was right about Sweeney…but he couldn’t be. Could he? The man who’d recruited me, mentored me, fought for my career—how could he be working with the Castellanos?
But if he wasn’t the mole, why arrange a middle-of-the-night meeting in Gloversville—a town hours from his location but only twenty minutes from mine?
“Your thoughts are very loud,” Alice said from her warrior pose. She opened one eye. “You’re bumming out my chi.”
I grinned. “Sorry. There’s something I need to take care of.”
“Go ahead.”
I leaned down and kissed her cheek, then left the room in search of Tank.
“I need you to run surveillance on something tonight,” I said quietly, showing him the coordinates. “Actually, zero four hundred.”
His eyes narrowed. “Lemme guess. Sweeney?”
I’d ask how he knew, but who else would’ve asked for a meeting at such an early hour? One of the Castellanos?
“Yeah. Let’s keep this between us for now.”
“Roger that.” He studied the map on his tablet and shook his head. “I’m not comfortable with just you and me going in. I can have teams in place by zero three hundred.”
“I’ll follow your lead on this, but I want Alice protected while I’m gone. Double the perimeter watch.”
“Already on it.” Tank still appeared troubled. “You sure about this, boss?”
No, I wasn’t sure about anything except that I had to know the truth. “Have Atticus sweep the route for surveillance. If Sweeney’s compromised…”
“We’ll be ready.” Tank squeezed my shoulder. “But watch your six. This feels wrong.”
It felt wrong because it was wrong. The timing was too convenient, especially after Grit’s accusations, combined with the evidence against him that had magically appeared earlier.
I had eighteen hours to prepare, to get my head straight and figure out what to tell Alice. Eighteen hours that promised to be some of the longest of my life.
Looking back at the bedroom where she was still going through yoga poses, I felt the weight of what was coming settle over me. Whether Sweeney was the mole or not, after early tomorrow morning, nothing would be the same. Some illusion I’d held close would be shattered. The real question was, would I be ready for the outcome?
“I was wondering when I’d hear from you,” said Sweeney, answering my call after the first ring.
“What’s this about?”
“Meet at Myers Park at zero four hundred, and I’ll tell you.” Sweeney’s voice sounded different than I remembered it. Raspy. Overwrought. “Come alone.”
“That’s not happening.”
“Fine. Bring Tank. No one else.” He paused. “And Admiral? Watch your back getting here. The Castellanos have reach even in Gloversville.”
The line went dead. I stared at the phone, weighing options. If Sweeney was the mole, this could be a trap. If he wasn’t, missing this meeting could cost us our best chance at finding the truth.
When I raised my head, Alice stood directly in front of me.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
I ran my hand through my hair. “Sweeney wants to meet.”
Her mouth gaped. “Where and when?”
“Zero four hundred at a park in Gloversville.”
“Gloversville?”
“I had the same reaction.”
“So, what’s your plan?”
“It’s a big risk?—”
“You have to go, but maybe it would be best if you took someone with you. Like the entire K19 team.”
I smiled. “Someone has to stay here and protect you.”
“Incoming,” she said, glancing out the window and using the same tone of voice Tank did.
I turned my head and saw Grit walking on the trail, headed in this direction. “I probably don’t need to say this?—”
Alice put her fingers near her mouth in a zipping motion. “Need to know, right?”
“Right.”
“I’m gonna disappear for a while, and by that, I mean I’ll be in the bedroom. By the way, you owe me a bath.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Mornin’,” said Grit, knocking, then walking in the front door.
“Hey.”
“Do you mind if I help myself?” he asked, motioning to the pot of coffee.
“Go ahead. Those are breakfast burritos Bryar brought over. You’re welcome to them if you’re hungry.”
“Appreciated.”
The conversation between us was awkward and stilted, which was to be expected. The confident man I’d come to know, who walked with a swagger, didn’t hesitate to call someone out on their shit, and refused to take no for an answer, had been replaced with a guy unsure of where he stood. Was he innocent and worried about being framed? Or was he guilty and worried about being caught?
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.
“Head back to the city if you want.”
Grit shook his head. “I told you I want to be a part of this. When the real identity of the mole is uncovered, I want to be able to look him in the face and tell him what a piece of fucking shit he is.”
The venom in his voice seemed too authentic to be faked, but like Tank said, he might be one hell of an actor.
“Vincent Castellano’s gone dark.”
Grit raised his head from where he unwrapped one of the burritos. “How long ago?”
“Not exactly sure, but maybe sometime in the last twenty-four or thirty-six hours.”
“Do you want me to see what I can find out?”
Did I? There was a lot I was unsure of, but having Grit be anywhere near Alice was out of the question. “Be careful of potential bleeds.”
“Roger that.”
“Report whatever you find to Tank or Diesel.”
He nodded, picked up his coffee and burrito, and walked out.
“It’s tough,” Alice said from behind me as I stood near the window, watching him return to the small camp.
“Think he’s our mole?” I asked.
“Honestly?”
I turned to face her. “Of course.”
“I don’t.”
“I wish I could be so confident,” I said under my breath.
“Trust your gut, Pershing.”
My eyes bored into hers. “You sound like a commander.”
She cringed. “ Ew. No. God, I’d never want to be that.”
I chuckled, but then grew more serious. “On a scale of one to ten, ten being Grit is one hundred percent our mole, what would you give him?”
“Zero,” Alice responded without hesitation.
I was stunned. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume you don’t have evidence to back that up.”
“If I did, you’d know it. But it’s obvious someone is trying to frame him. Finding what I did was way too easy. A guy can’t be a high-level G-man, working with a crime family as powerful as the Castellanos for years, and suddenly, the information we need to take him down magically appears. No possible way.”
“I’m going to ask something of you.”
“What?” she asked.
“I don’t want you anywhere near him. I’m going to make it clear to Tank and the others that if he approaches you, I want them to intervene.”
“Got it. My turn to ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“Scale of one to ten on Sweeney.”
“Five,” I responded without hesitation.
“And Grit?”
“Before this conversation, I would’ve given him a five too.”
“And now?”
I put my arms around Alice’s waist and brought her body close to mine. “If there’s any one person here whose opinions I trust, it’s yours.”
Her eyes scrunched. “I’m flattered, but why?”
“Your only agenda is to find the person or people responsible for your sister’s death. If you suspected Grit played a role in it, you’d never be so adamant he isn’t the mole.”
“True enough. Except for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“It isn’t my only agenda, Pershing. There are other reasons I want to find whoever it is. Other reasons I want to see the Castellanos either six feet under or spending the rest of their lives in a prison cell. It’s about right and wrong. Nothing will bring Sarah back, and yes, I want to know who, other than Bobby, is responsible. But if we don’t stop them, there will be more Sarahs in the future. More Alices too. People who lose those they love because some asshole wants to make a shit ton of money and has no conscience in regard to how they go about it.” She took my hand and pulled me away from the window.
“Where are we going?”
“Time for a bath, Pershing, and if you don’t agree to come with me right this minute, I might just strip you down in the middle of your kitchen.”
I blinked. “It’s a tossup. Both sound equally good to me.”
“Well, if I strip you down, you’ll want to do the same with me, and then if Tank or?—”
“Let’s go.” She giggled when I hoisted her over my shoulder and carried her into the bathroom.
At zero two hundred, when I tried to ease myself out of bed without waking her, Alice put her hand on my arm.
“Be careful.”
I kissed her forehead. “Always am.”
Tank was already waiting by the SUV when I went downstairs, weapon check complete. “Diesel’s got overhead coverage from the moment we leave the property,” he said as I approached and climbed into the vehicle. “K19 teams are staged at points along Route 29A and near the old Frontier parking lot.”
“Copy that.” Last night before we fell asleep, Alice led me through a meditation, giving me a crash course in clearing my mind. Without her with me, though, I couldn’t do it. My mind raced regardless of how much I tried to control my breathing.
Tank was equally tense on our drive south from Canada Lake. Even at this hour, we watched for tails. Once in the city, the empty streets of Gloversville felt exposed—too quiet, too easy to spot surveillance, or set up an ambush. I was five minutes early when Tank dropped me at the corner of Fifth and Park while he established his own overwatch position.
Sweeney sat on a bench near the park’s stone pavilion, looking older than I remembered. His shoulders were hunched against the cold, but his eyes were sharp as ever when they met mine. Behind him, the dark bulk of the Fulton County office building loomed against the sky.
“I told you to come alone,” he said by way of a greeting.
“Like I have any reason to follow your orders.”
He grimaced. “You look like shit.”
“Been a rough week.”
“Sit.” He gestured to the space beside him. “We need to talk about Grit.”
I remained standing. The crunch of frozen grass under my feet seemed too loud in the silent park. “What about him?”
“He’s playing you, Pershing.” Sweeney’s use of my first name caught my attention. He hadn’t called me that since my early days at the bureau. “Think about it. Who had direct oversight of Sarah Gordon’s operation? Who knew every detail of her movements, her contacts, her reports?”
“You did.”
He nodded. “You’re right, but I wasn’t the one who reassigned her protective detail the week she died.”
That was new information. “Explain.”
“Sarah had a two-man team watching her back. Standard procedure for deep cover ops. A week before she was killed, Grit pulled them for a ‘higher priority’ assignment.” Sweeney took out his phone and showed me the personnel order. “Look at the timestamp.”
“That doesn’t prove anything.”
“No? How about this?” Another document appeared on his screen. “Bank records. An LLC registered to Grit’s brother-in-law. Three payments from a Castellano shell company, each one two days before a major operation went sideways.”
I studied the records. They looked legitimate, but documents could be faked. “Why are you showing me this now?”
“Because he’s making his move. That task force? It’s his chance to bury everything. He’ll use it to discredit Sarah, to paint you as compromised because of Bobby and to take down anyone who might expose him.” Sweeney stood, facing me directly. The old pavilion’s shadows played across his face. “He’s already laying the groundwork. Why do you think he suggested I was the mole?”
“How do you know he did?”
Sweeney raised a brow. “Give me a fucking break, Pershing, and answer my question. Why did he accuse me?”
“To drive a wedge between us,” I said, voicing the thought that had been nagging at me.
“Exactly. He knows our history. Knows you trust me. So he plants the seed of doubt, lets it grow.” Sweeney’s voice hardened. “Meanwhile, he’s setting up Alice Gordon to take the fall.”
My head snapped up. “What do you mean?”
“There’s a sealed indictment. Espionage charges, cyberterrorism, the works. They’re just waiting for the right moment to move on her.” He held up a hand as I started to speak. “I saw it myself. That’s why I’m here. You need to get her out.”
“If you’ve known all this, why didn’t you come forward sooner?”
“Because I needed proof you hadn’t been compromised too.” He met my gaze steadily. “I had to be sure. For both our sakes.”
“And now?”
“Now, I know where you stand. And you need to know something else—Sarah wasn’t just investigating the Castellanos. She found a connection to someone higher than the director. Above the bureau. Someone who’s been protecting them for years.”
“DOJ?” I asked.
“Higher.” Sweeney glanced around the empty park. A car passed on Main Street, its headlights sweeping across the pavilion. “She was getting too close. That’s the real reason she died.”
My mind raced. “Can you prove any of this?”
“Everything’s documented. Sarah was thorough. You know damned well she kept records separate from the bureau’s systems. Secured them in ways only her sister could access.” He smiled grimly. “Smart girl. She knew if anything happened to her, Alice would find the truth.”
The pieces started falling into place. Sarah’s coded messages, the breadcrumbs she’d left, her insistence that Alice join that dating app—it wasn’t just about documenting the Castellanos’ activities. She was building a case against corruption within the bureau itself and, from the sound of it, beyond the FBI.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” I demanded a second time.
“Same reason I’m telling you now. Timing.” He stood. “You can find it all in a safe house up on Prospect. Evidence I’ve been gathering for months. Things that tie everything together—the Castellanos, the bureau leaks, Sarah’s murder.” He wrote an address on a slip of paper. “The key’s under the third brick left of the door; it’s loose.”
I took the paper, memorized the address, then destroyed it. “How about if you take me to it?”
“Can’t. I have to maintain appearances. Besides,” he smiled sadly, “Grit’s having me followed. Has been for weeks.”
“Chad…” I started, but he cut me off.
“Watch yourself, Pershing. You’re in just as much danger as I am. So is Alice.”
“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.