Page 4 of Code Name: Reaper
Wren scribbled something I couldn’t read on a notepad. “Blackjack, transportation networks?”
“Accessing travel databases across six countries now. Nothing whatsoever by air, so we’ve moved on to ground transportation. Austrian Federal Railways, Deutsche Bahn, Italian Trenitalia, Czech, Croatian, and Slovenian railways, plus all private coach and bus lines. Cross-referencing cash purchase records with her physical description and timeline since Montenegro.”
“Focus on patterns,” I added. “She won’t take direct routes. She’ll hop between cities, change transportation methods, and create false trails.”
“Start with major hub cities,” Wren ordered. “Locations that offer maximum route flexibility and complicate tracking efforts.”
“Beginning analysis with Vienna, Prague, Munich, Berlin, Zagreb, and Ljubljana,” Blackjack confirmed.
“Also check smaller regional connections,” I added. “She might use secondary routes to avoid major surveillance points.”
“Hornet, satellite surveillance status?”
“The NRO is bringing multiple reconnaissance satellites online now. They’re pulling archived footage and activating real-time surveillance protocols for ongoing tracking.”
Wren stood and faced the rest of the work areas. “Agent Beaudoin disappeared from Montenegro nine days ago. My hunch is that she’s had a specific destination or objective in mind from the beginning of her disappearance. We need to think, people. What would Amaryllis do? Climb into her head and work this out.”
“She has tunnel vision,” I agreed. “All she can think about is staying far enough ahead of Prism and the Russians to continue her search for Mercury.”
Wren turned to Hornet. “Any results yet?”
“The NRO thinks they have a hit.”
The main display filled with an aerial view of Westbahnhof—Vienna’s central railway station. The image quality was sharp enough to track individual pedestrians moving through the complex. I stood and approached the screen.
“There.” I pointed at a figure in dark clothing crossing the main concourse. The stride was unmistakable. “That’s her.”
Wren stood beside me. “Can we confirm via facial recognition?”
“We have partial visibility due to baseball cap positioning, but gait analysis and body-language indicators provide a strong correlation,” Hornet replied. “Confidence level eighty-seven percent.”
“I know that’s her,” I seethed under my breath.
“If Reaper says it’s her, it’s her.” Wren turned to Hornet. “Initiate our own tracking, and donotlose her.”
The surveillance feeds showed her progress through the station complex. She moved past electronic departure boards, through automated ticket barriers, and toward the platform-access areas. Classic evasion techniques—checking reflections in shop windows, varying her walking pace, never looking directly at security cameras, maintaining awareness of potential observation points.
“She knows what she’s doing…” I muttered under my breath.
Wren nudged me. “The NSA doesn’t produce amateurs.” It was the first time in an hour that she’d joked in a way that reminded me of the person I’d believed her to be. A split second later, she switched into operational mode. “Platform destination?”
“Deutsche Bahn.”
“She boarded the Intercity Express,” Hornet confirmed.
“She’s in Berlin,” I muttered.
Wren studied me. “You’re certain?”
“Affirmative. Major metropolitan area, multiple exit routes, extensive public transportation networks. Perfect for disappearing into urban anonymity.”
“Or for staging an op,” Wren added.
Hornet turned to me. “Berlin has resources, international connections, and places to acquire equipment or support.”
“Confirm she actually boarded that specific train,” Wren ordered.
“Affirmative. Departure at fourteen hundred would put her in Germany’s capital at twenty-two thirty,” Blackjack reported.
