Page 28 of Code Name: Reaper
The image showed the sprawling naval facility along Ukraine’s coast.
“But most concerning is this.” She highlighted a single vehicle approaching from the north. “Diplomatic plates, moving toward the base as of six hours ago.”
“Aldrich?” Reaper inquired.
“High probability,” Nemesis confirmed. “And she’s not alone.”
“Is Vasiliev with her?” I asked.
“Negative. While we can’t get a good enough view from the overheads to know for sure, the analyst who brought this to my attention suggested it could be Luca Verlice, code name Triad.”
The man’s role within Minerva Protocol was to ensure all critical intelligence be independently verified by at least three separate origins. No single source, regardless of reliability, could be trusted without corroboration. Evidence had to be gathered in ways that could eventually be used in legitimate prosecutions, I thought by rote. I’d spent my downtime, what little there was of it when I was on the run, memorizing every word of the intel I’d received on the organization Prism founded.
“ETA?” Reaper asked.
“Under an hour,” Nemesis confirmed.
While everyone in the room may have been more concerned with stopping Aldrich, I couldn’t go along with it at the expense of Mercury’s life. “Can we intercept?”
“Affirmative except…” Wren answered for her, then walked closer to the screen. “Delfino, Hornet, come take a look.” I stood too and joined them.
“That isn’t Prism,” I stated with certainty.
Wren looked over her shoulder at me. “It’s not Triad, either. However, they look enough like them that we’ve used precious time and resources tracking them.”
Delfino leaned closer. “I agree.”
Nemesis blew the still up on the screen and put a photo of Prism next to it. It was immediately obvious that the woman driving was made to look like her, but only from a distance. “Which means we’ve been played, people,” she muttered.
Delfino returned to her seat. “So whereisPrism?”
“Working that now,” Wren answered. “Nothing yet.”
“What about Triad?”
Wren turned to me. “Confirmed to be in Lausanne.”
“Incoming,” Nemesis announced in a raised voice as she motioned to the main display. Several feeds appeared, showing operatives wearing tactical gear moving through corridors.
I leaned forward, studying what was on the screen. “What are we looking at?”
“Raid at Odesa,” she responded.
I pointed to the insignia visible on several of the suits. “Those are NSA operatives.”
“Mercury is one of us,” Wren said without looking away from what was playing out in front of us.
We watched as room after room was cleared, followed by a negative report. Finally, when the op was called, Nemesis closed the feeds.
“I’m sorry, Amaryllis. I hoped our theory about Mercury being in Odesa would prove correct.”
“I’m not surprised,” I admitted. “Prism never would’ve sent a decoy if she was.”
Delfino returned to her laptop that was open on the table where she’d been sitting. “There’s more.”
“Go ahead,” said Nemesis.
She pulled up satellite imagery that showed movement across multiple borders. “Four vehicles entered the Czech Republic through mountain passes that haven’t been used in months. The timing and route selection suggest they’re testing new corridors.”
