Page 3 of Code Name: Tank
“Use K19 proprietary encryption,” Dragon said. “No data flows through federal networks unless authorized by Admiral, Alice, or myself. Actually, given the breaches, maybe we should route everything through our systems exclusively.”
Hartwell paused at the door. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll ensure secure channels for any Treasury communications.”
After he left, the session continued for another ten minutes, covering logistical details. I absorbed the information while fighting my awareness of Dragon’s presence two seats away. My ability to concentrate had always been my strength, but apparently, it had limits when it came to brilliant women withthe kind of skills that made me want to simultaneously protect and partner with them.
Atticus leaned over and whispered, “Friction creates fire, my friend.” His grin was insufferable.
When we were dismissed, I gathered my materials and headed for the exit. The reality of the assignment was sinking in—Dragon and I would be working closer than we ever had before.
As I paused near the door, I watched Admiral help Alice to her feet, his hand on her lower back. The pregnancy was still early, but the changes were showing—her fatigue, his increased protectiveness, the way Dragon had stepped in to help. It made me think about the stability they had, the family they were building.
My own family had always been a steady foundation. Sunday dinners at my parents’ house in upstate New York, my sister bringing her kids, everyone talking over each other in the comfortable chaos of people who belonged together. I’d grown up taking that for granted, but watching Dragon over the past year, I’d started to realize not everyone had that kind of security.
She never mentioned her family. There were no photos on her desk, no stories about childhood traditions, no mentions of holiday plans. It made me want to wrap her in the warmth of my family’s kitchen and introduce her to my mother’s famous apple pie and my father’s ridiculous puns.
The thought of bringing Dragon home for Thanksgiving—of her meeting my family—sent an unexpected warmth through my chest. But first, we had to survive working this case together.
“Tank.” Dragon’s voice stopped me as I reached the command center’s exit. When I turned, she was close enough for me to see the flecks of green in her eyes.
“We need to establish ground rules,” she said, her voice carrying an undertone I didn’t remember hearing before.
“Sure.”
Her gaze held mine longer than necessary. “What we’re about to undertake will require close cooperation. I need to know we can maintain professional boundaries while working together.”
I nodded, recognizing she’d phrased it as a mutual concern rather than a warning. “Understood. Mission first.”
As she walked away, I remained in the hallway, watching the confident stride that had first drawn my attention.
This case was going to test our capabilities more than any other in recent memory. The stakes were enormous—one point two billion dollars in delayed military contracts and American forces potentially going into harm’s way without the equipment they’d been promised.
As I packed my go bag, I wondered if this assignment would prove Dragon and I could work as partners or confirm that the most intriguing woman I’d ever met was going to be a distraction I couldn’t afford.
2
DRAGON
Seeing James Hartwell again brought a welcome mix of gratitude and relief. When my career had seemed uncertain and few people were willing to vouch for me, he’d come to my defense. His presence today and his request for my involvement reminded me that not everyone in positions of power abandoned people when things got complicated.
Three years ago, when a joint CIA operation in Prague went sideways and my partner chose to save himself rather than stand by me, Hartwell had been my strongest advocate during the congressional oversight committee hearing. He’d served alongside my father during their CIA days and had been his partner on several classified ops before Dad was killed in the line of duty when I was fifteen. “Your father always said you had his analytical mind and your mother’s stubborn streak,” Hartwell had told me after that brutal hearing. “He’d be proud of the agent you’ve become.” Without his support after I was left to face Internal Affairs alone, I’d probably be working for private-sector cybersecurity instead of one of the most highly respected firms in the intelligence community.
Now, getting ready to head to California with Tank to investigate threats that could affect national security, I was reminded again how much my life had changed since those uncertain days. Secretary Hartwell’s faith in my abilities opened doors I’d thought were permanently closed. In fact, he’d been the one to recommend me to Doc and Merrigan Butler, which in turn resulted in my offer of employment with K19 Sentinel Cyber.
His behavior during today’s briefing had seemed off, though. The way he’d insisted all communications go through him, his reluctance to speculate about perpetrators—it felt more controlled than his usual straightforward approach with me.
As I was walking out of the command center, trying to shake off my concerns about Hartwell’s strange behavior, Alice caught my eye. “How are you feeling?” I asked.
“I’ll be fine. I’m just pregnant, for God’s sake. Admiral acts like I’m going to spontaneously combust if he isn’t constantly hovering.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. Maybe send a fake email saying he’s needed in DC first thing tomorrow?”
She chuckled. “Thanks, but he’d only make me go with him.”
After we said good night, I spent the evening preparing for the assignment—reviewing Titan Defense’s corporate structure, studying their defense contracts, and trying not to think about spending extended time working closely with Tank. My go bag had been packed and repacked twice, a nervous habit I thought I’d outgrown.
Sleep came fitfully,and by zero five thirty, I gave up, grabbed coffee and my gear bag, then headed to the helipad. It sat in a cleared meadow between the main residence and the gates of the compound, the morning mist drifting across the Adirondacklandscape. As I approached, I was surprised to see Tank was already waiting with his gear bag.
“Morning,” he said, his breath visible in the crisp September air. “Ready for this?”
