Chapter 2 #2
There was nothing, not one thing , that would have made me trust her other than calling me Guardian.
It had been my code name during the most top secret missions.
Even within the group of people running the op, they knew Guardian and they knew Connor, but only a handful of them knew they were the same person.
Joseph had been my point of contact.
Silently, I took the letter, blinking in surprise when our hands brushed and an electric current sizzled between us.
“Sit,” I ordered, gesturing to the couch.
Without waiting to see if she obeyed, I opened the envelope and took out the letter.
But before unfolding it, I spotted something inside.
To most people, it would have looked like a simple thumb drive, but I knew the real purpose of the item.
It was an electronic key—one of the most completely secure ways to store highly sensitive information.
Pretty much the only way to take information off a skiff room server.
I set the device aside to give it to Wizard and turned my attention to the letter.
Guardian,
If you’re reading this letter, then my latest mission has gone sideways, and I’ve been burned.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
Who knows what story they’ve concocted to put me on an official most wanted list and an unofficial hit list, but with my real identity compromised, I’m in deep shit.
When the CIA issued a burn notice on someone, they sent an official statement to other agencies alerting them that the asset was unreliable for one or several reasons—often bullshit and lies—and must be officially disavowed.
It was essentially a directive for the recipient to disregard or "burn" all information derived from that agent.
It wasn't like the movies and TV shows. They didn’t freeze your assets, destroy your credit, and basically wipe away any proof of your former life. However, there was definitely no record of your employment with any government agency.
And sometimes—I had a feeling this was one of them—the burn notice included an indirect kill order. Though the agencies would never admit it.
Knowing I needed all the information before I decided on an action, I kept reading.
I can’t trust anyone in The Company, and besides my daughter, there is no one in this world I trust more than you.
Obviously, you’ve met my daughter, Stella, since she is the only one who would have delivered this note.
She is the most important person in this world to me. Above all, I’m begging you to protect her.
I’ve spent years giving her the tools to handle any blowback that she might encounter from my job, but I can’t stomach the idea of her alone and putting herself at risk.
She’s brave, strong, loyal, and stubborn as fuck.
She’ll run straight at the danger if she thinks she can save me, and no amount of pleading in a letter will sway her.
So I’m asking for a pretty big favor, Connor. Keeping Stella safe won’t be easy, but I know you’re the only one who is strong enough, and that I trust, to accomplish the task.
She is your priority, so when I give you the rest of the information, please don’t forget that.
The official details of the op are on the key, along with everything I’ve “unofficially” gathered.
Someone is betraying operatives, and I fear it’s from deep within The Company.
I haven’t been able to get to the initial source, but my suspicions have led me to one conclusion that I know will test your resolve to do the first thing I’ve asked of you.
When we took out Trailblazer, we were wrong in thinking that it ended there.
I nearly dropped the letter when I read those words. We’d been wrong? Every day since I walked away from the CIA, I’d felt closure because we’d found and destroyed the man responsible for my failure. Now, Joseph was telling me that the motherfucker was only one branch on a tree made of corruption?
Everything is on the encrypted key. The password is the nickname we gave the safehouse built on desecrated ground.
You’ve put your trust in me more times than I can count, and now, I’m putting my faith in you.
Wayfarer
I reread the letter twice while clutching the key in my fist. It was practically burning a hole through my hand.
The need to know the information contained on it was almost consuming me. But the second Joseph had asked me for help, I’d made a silent vow to do whatever it was. That meant securing Stella first.
Then I’d give the key to Wizard, along with the password. One corner of my mouth lifted as I remembered that moment with my friend.
The safehouse in Hungary had been built on a former cemetery. We stumbled upon the history of the land by accident one night when we overheard a conversation while having a drink at a nearby bar. The whole thing was complete hearsay, but it amused us to believe it was true.
The graves had been robbed so often that the clergy finally dug everyone up and moved them to another, more secure resting place. Technically, they’d moved the bodies without the families’ permission, which made the land “desecrated” ground.
Hungarian is a hard as fuck language to learn, but Joseph and I had both become fluent, so I had come up with the ridiculous idea to name the safehouse with arguably the longest word in Hungarian— Megszentségteleníthetetlenségeskedéseitekért . Roughly translated, it meant “For your unholy deeds.”
I’d been young and new to my career, not yet jaded by the darkness I would become familiar with in my job.
It had seemed hilarious at the time, and years later, it was a moment I often recalled when I needed to think about something other than the shit that happened in a world most people didn’t even know was all around them.
Considering what was on that key, it was the perfect choice for a password.