21. Alice
21
ALICE
T ension seeped off Pershing as he walked into the bedroom where I’d been attempting to meditate. He was back far earlier than I’d expected him. “What happened?” I asked.
He sat beside me and pulled me onto his lap. The early morning darkness still clung to the windows, and the only light came from the dying embers in the fireplace.
“Sweeney claims Grit pulled Sarah’s protective detail a week before she died,” he began. “He says there’s proof in a safe house in Gloversville—evidence that goes beyond the bureau, higher up. DOJ and above.”
I processed this, my fingers instinctively reaching for the clear quartz crystal I kept close. The stone’s cool surface helped ground me as my mind raced through the implications. “Do you believe him?”
“I don’t know what to believe anymore. He also said there’s a sealed indictment against you. Espionage, cyberterrorism.”
I laughed, but it sounded hollow. “Of course there is. They need a fall guy.” I itched to get to my workstation. If Sweeney was telling the truth about Sarah’s protective detail being pulled, there would be traces in the system. Even if they’d tried to hide it, I’d find them. No one could erase digital footprints completely—there were always echoes, fragments, crumbs left behind.
“What are you thinking?” Pershing asked, resting his cheek against my hair.
“I’m thinking we need to verify his claims without walking into an obvious trap. If Sarah had protection, there will be records. Assignment logs, shift schedules, expense reports. There will also be documentation of that protection being pulled.”
“Not yet. I need to hold you a little while longer.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Wanna go back to bed?”
“More than anything, except if we do, I’ll want more than you’re ready to give.”
“Pershing, I?—”
He kissed me. The kind that made my toes curl. “We’re getting close, Alice. We need to wait.”
I agreed, as hard as it was to accept.
“Sweeney said Grit’s having him followed.”
I shook my head. “I’d know it if he was.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I leaned away and raised a brow. “Positive.”
“I gotta admit, it’s really hard to know which of them is telling the truth. One, I hope is, and the other, I hope isn’t.”
“You hope Grit’s lying.”
He nodded. “It would be a helluva lot easier to accept.”
“Can we…err…”
“Get to work now?”
I nodded, perhaps too enthusiastically.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
An alert pinged on my monitors—movement at the safe house address Pershing had given me a few minutes ago. I switched views to access nearby security cameras, my heart rate accelerating as I saw three men in tactical gear approaching the building.
“Looks like we’re not the only ones interested in what’s inside,” I muttered, showing him the feed. The men moved with military precision, covering angles and checking sight lines.
“That doesn’t look like Castellano’s men.”
“You’re right.” I zoomed in on their equipment. “Too professional. More likely they’re bureau—or whoever’s really pulling the strings.”
“Not even a mole could get them that kind of gear. It’s top-of-the-line.”
I watched as they breached the door, thinking about Sarah’s hidden records. My sister had been smart, methodical. She wouldn’t have left anything critical in an obvious location. So what was I missing? I couldn’t shake the feeling that the answers we sought were at my fingertips, but I just couldn’t find them.
A new alert flashed across my screen. It was an attack. One that was more sophisticated than any I’d seen. “They’re probing for weaknesses in my security protocols. But…” Something about the pattern felt deliberate—like breadcrumbs I was meant to follow.
“Look at this,” I said, highlighting a series of encrypted communications buried in the Castellano business records. “These transactions—they’re not what they seem.” I dug deeper into the code, following familiar patterns. “They’re messages hidden in plain sight.”
Pershing leaned closer. “Between who?”
“You are not going to fucking believe this.”
“Alice, if you don’t tell me right this minute, I might have a stroke. Literally.”
“Alessandro Castellano and...” I stared at the screen, not believing what I was seeing. “This can’t be right. The Department of Justice.”
“That’s impossible.” Pershing’s voice was harsh. “Alessandro Castellano is one of the most ruthless enforcers in New York.”
“According to these records, he’s been working to bring down both his brother and the mole.” My hands trembled as I pulled up more files. “He’s systematically documented everything—the corruption, the compromised cases, all of it. It almost looks like he’s trying to destroy his family from the inside.”
“My God.” Pershing gripped the back of my chair. “That’s why Vincent disappeared. He must have discovered Alessandro’s betrayal.”
A new message flashed across my screen. Focus on the offshore accounts. You’ll find the proof there.
“Alessandro’s been working to dismantle the entire criminal empire. To end the Castellano legacy completely,” I said, almost too stunned to speak it out loud.
“The DOJ must have kept this operation completely dark,” Pershing said, his voice as tinged with disbelief as mine was.
Another message appeared. Following the money isn’t enough. Look at the judges’ scheduling records. Cross-reference with Vincent’s travel logs. We’re running out of time.
With shaking hands, I dug deeper into the financial records. The connections were unmistakable. “These payments,” I said, highlighting a series of transactions. “They’re not just bribes. They’re insurance.” I pulled up more records, connecting the dots. “Every time a major case against the Castellanos got shut down, money moved through these accounts. But the amounts are too big for simple payoffs.”
“They’re buying protection,” Pershing said. “At the highest levels.”
“Sarah found out.” My voice cracked. “That’s why they killed her. Not because she was investigating the Castellanos, but because she uncovered this whole network of corruption.” I shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would Alessandro order Bobby to kill her if they were essentially on the same side?”
“There are two possible explanations that are immediately obvious. First, Alessandro wasn’t ready for Sarah to expose him. Maybe he didn’t have enough evidence yet. Second, maybe Alessandro had nothing to do with Bobby killing your sister.”
“Vincent,” I said under my breath.
“Who also ordered the hit on Bobby. It was to keep him quiet.”
The implications were staggering. Alessandro had spent years meticulously building his case while maintaining his cover as a brutal enforcer. He’d documented every payoff, every compromised case, every connection between the Castellano operation and whoever was working with them on the inside. But why dangle all these clues? Why hack into my system and send me messages? Why hadn’t he just named the mole?
A new alert pinged—movement on the perimeter cameras. I switched views, my breath catching as I saw vehicles approaching.
“We’ve got company,” I said, highlighting the feed. “Multiple SUVs, no markings.”
Pershing was already on his comms. “Tank, status?”
“Three vehicles approaching from the south access road. Professional drivers, evasive patterns. Not bureau standard procedure.”
“Time to go?” I asked, already starting my shutdown sequence.
“Time to go,” Pershing confirmed. “But first—can you copy everything you’ve found?”
I smiled grimly. “Already done. Multiple secure locations, encrypted seven ways to Sunday. Even if they take these systems, they won’t find anything.”
“Good.” He helped me up from my chair. “Because I have a feeling we’re about to find out just how badly someone wants to keep all this quiet.”
I grabbed my go bag—always packed, always ready—and followed Pershing toward the door. But before we left, I turned back to my workstation one last time. My fingers flew across the keyboard, initiating one final protocol.
“What was that?” Pershing asked as we hurried down the hall.
“Insurance,” I said. “If anything happens to us, everything we’ve found goes public. Every server, every news outlet, every social media platform. They can try to bury the truth, but they can’t kill it. Not anymore.”
He squeezed my hand. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
I squeezed back. “Save the compliments for when we’re safe. Right now, we need to focus on staying alive long enough to use what we’ve found.”
As we moved through the house, I could hear Tank coordinating with the security teams, positioning people to cover our escape. But my mind was already racing ahead, planning our next moves. Sarah had died trying to expose this conspiracy. I wouldn’t let her sacrifice be in vain.
Alessandro was right about one thing—time was running out. But they’d underestimated one crucial factor: they weren’t just dealing with an FBI agent and a hacker anymore. They were facing two people who had nothing left to lose and everything to fight for.
And I’d learned from hard experience—those were the most dangerous people of all.