Chapter 1 #2
“We use the Morrison investigation as cover to get K19 inside Treasury. Soledad will authorize a continuation with a Treasury-side focus, and they won’t object, because they already signed off on my involvement the first time.
As far as anyone at Treasury knows, Kodiak and Luke are investigators working the Morrison follow-up.
Nobody’s a bodyguard, and nobody’s there to protect anyone.
They’re there because the DOJ isn’t done. ”
She said this to all of us, but her eyes were on me.
“The real investigation runs underneath. Same building, same systems, same people, but a different target. Nobody knows the difference.”
“Wait.” I looked at Brenna. “Whoever broke into my house has my notes on the VA fraud. If a K19 team walks into Treasury tomorrow morning, won’t that tell them exactly what we’re doing?”
“It’s a risk,” Atticus said. “But Morrison gives us cover. It’s a real case you already worked.
The DOJ continuation was in motion before last night.
If whoever did this is watching, they see a team arriving for a case that’s been on the books for months, not a reaction to a break-in that happened twelve hours ago. ”
“And if they don’t buy it?” I asked.
“Then, they’re already watching you,” Kodiak said. “Which means you need us in that building, whether they like it or not.” He smirked. “And that’ll scare ’em shitless.”
I rolled my eyes, and Brenna ignored him. “Look, the cover holds because the history is real.”
She was right. I’d started the Morrison investigation from a desk as Treasury’s liaison, tracing money flows remotely while Kodiak was my point of contact at K19.
When the team had needed a second couple for fieldwork in California, I was the obvious choice because I was former FBI, already read into the case, and trained in the undercover work involving fraud they needed.
I flew out on short notice and spent two weeks as Kodiak’s wife, tracing cryptocurrency through Cyprus and the Caymans while we posed as venture capitalists.
The Morrison connection was real enough that nobody at Treasury would question a continuation.
“That’s good, Bug,” Luke said from the window. It was the first time he’d spoken in several minutes. “Layered and clean.” Brenna shot him a look at the use of her childhood nickname. He ignored it.
“That handles the investigation and the cover,” she said. “We still have to deal with Emma’s safety.”
“That’s on K19,” Atticus said. “Emma needs personal protection, someone with her at all times, whether she’s in the building, in transit, or off the clock.”
“I don’t need—”
“Me.”
I almost spit out the water I’d taken a sip of. Coleman “Kodiak” Emeric was one of K19’s most senior intelligence operatives. He had more field experience than Atticus and had completed more classified missions than anyone could count. Men like him didn’t volunteer for protection detail.
“You?” I asked, looking up at him.
“You heard me.”
“Okay, that’s settled,” said Atticus. “Let’s talk logistics. Kodiak, you’re on Emma’s security detail and running intelligence.”
Brenna picked it up from there. “Luke, I need you on the money trail. Shell companies, NGO registrations, offshore accounts. I’ll ask Alice to put Tex on the digital forensics remotely.
” She looked at Atticus. “I’ll work with Soledad at DOJ and run the investigative side.
You and I stay in sync, but the case is mine. ”
“Understood.” Atticus rose. “Kodiak, Luke, let’s step out. I have to brief Admiral and Alice before we move on any of this.”
The three of them disappeared down the hall.
Brenna exhaled. “Okay. You need tea.”
I could’ve used something stronger, but I didn’t argue. She led me into the living room, and I sank onto the sofa while she disappeared into the kitchen. The adrenaline was fading, leaving me feeling shaky.
She returned with two cups and handed one to me.
She sat beside me. “Stupid question, but are you okay?”
I half smiled. “Not at all.”
“So, uh, you and Kodiak…”
“What about us?”
“What’s going on with the two of you?”
“I have no idea.” One minute, he’d pursued me like it was his mission. The next, he acted like he couldn’t stand to be near me.
“Did something happen between you?”
I had no idea how to respond to the question. Although, whether she meant had we acted on our attraction or had an argument, the answer would be the same.
“Not that I’m aware of. As you know, during the undercover assignment in California, he was persistent. Even after it ended, he’d find excuses to check in.”
“And now?”
“He won’t even look at me.”
Brenna’s head cocked. “And yet, he volunteered to run your protection. Why?”
I didn’t have an answer for that question either.
“So, when did the cold shoulder thing start?” she asked.
“Your wedding.”
Her mouth gaped. “My wedding? What happened?”
I shrugged. “No idea, to be honest. We danced. It was nice. And then he left. No goodbye, nothing. I saw him heading for the door, and I thought maybe he’d turn around.” I stared into my tea. “He didn’t.”
“Did you go after him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“And say what?”
“Fair point. What about between then and now?”
“Six weeks of nothing.”
She folded her arms and tapped her lower lip with her index finger. “This makes no sense.”
I leaned against the sofa cushion. “Tell me about it.”
“Something else had to have happened.”
“What, like I’m a terrible dancer? Stepped on his toe? Bad breath?” Yeah, my attempt at humor was lame, but at least I wasn’t focused on whoever wanted to scare the shit out of me.
Brenna opened her mouth to say something, but footsteps in the hallway stopped her.
“We need to report the break-in,” she said when the three men returned. “But if DC police respond tonight to the home of the acting deputy secretary, that’s going to generate attention. The kind that could get back to the wrong people at Treasury.”
“I’ll go first thing in the morning,” Kodiak said. “After we have a more thorough read on the place, we bring in law enforcement.”
Brenna nodded. “Soledad can help control how it’s handled. Once I brief her tomorrow, she can loop in the right people at the Bureau and keep it quiet.”
“Agreed.” Kodiak turned to me. “Let’s go.”
“Where?” I blurted.
“Somewhere safe.”
“I don’t have anything with me. I need to stop by my house and—”
“Not fucking happening.”
“But—”
“Your house is a crime scene, and whoever did this might be watching it. You’re not going anywhere near it.”
Brenna headed for the stairs. “I’ll put a bag together for you. Give me five minutes.”
I started to protest, but she waved me off.
“It’s not a big deal. We’re the same size, and it’ll hold you over until you can make other arrangements.”
After she disappeared upstairs, neither Kodiak nor I spoke.
Brenna returned within minutes with a small duffel. “Here are the basics. It’s enough for a couple of days.” She hugged me. “Call me tomorrow.”
“I will.”
“Let’s go,” Kodiak repeated.
I wanted to tell him to stop barking at me, but given the guy had probably saved my life earlier, I kept my mouth shut.
Kodiak drove for close to an hour. He changed lanes unnecessarily, exited the highway twice then got back on, and checked his mirrors more than he checked the road.
By the time the SUV pulled through the gates of a private community and stopped in front of a house on the Chesapeake Bay, I was certain no one had followed us. He’d made sure of it.
“Where are we?”
“My place.”
The house appeared ordinary enough from the outside, with weathered shingles and a deep front porch.
The biometric lock on the front door told a different story. Whoever was after me wasn’t getting past it.
The space beyond the foyer was sparse and impersonal—like it had been staged by a real estate agent. A wall of windows overlooked the water on the opposite side of the living room. There were no trees or neighboring structures, only the bay and sky. Nobody would be sneaking up from that direction.
“There’s a spare bedroom down the hall,” Kodiak said. “The bathroom’s next to it. If you’re hungry, the kitchen’s through there.” He pointed rather than offer a tour.
“How long have you lived here?” I asked.
“A few years.” He set the bag Brenna had packed on the floor. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be long.”
He passed close enough on his way to the hallway that his hand brushed my arm. It stayed there for half a second before he shoved it in his pocket and kept walking.
After he retreated down the opposite hallway and shut his door, I stood alone and stared at the dark water beyond the windows.
Three hours ago, my biggest problem had been what to make for dinner. Now, I was hiding in Kodiak’s house.
He’d pointed me toward rooms like he was reading from a checklist. No small talk, no make yourself at home. The last time we worked together, he’d memorized my coffee order by day two. Tonight, he couldn’t get down the hallway fast enough.
I was trained to spot when numbers didn’t add up. People were harder. The math between who he’d been this summer and who he was tonight didn’t balance, and I didn’t know which version was real.