Page 30 of Code Name: Reaper
“Affirmative.”
“And all that time, you were searching for Suzanne Henning?”
“That’s right.”
She leaned against her chair and folded her arms. “And Vera never told you Henning was Mercury?”
“I was repeatedly stonewalled when it came to typical tracking methodologies,” I said. “Let alone knowing who I was really tracking.”
“It sounds to me like no one wanted you to find her.”
I agreed. “On the other hand, what I also didn’t understand was why Vera didn’t either fire me or insist I give up the search.”
“Exactly. A high-ranking NSA agent was missing for months, and yet you were the only one officially looking for her? Something doesn’t add up.” She tapped her lower lip. “Actually, it does.”
“How so?” I wondered out loud.
“You’re good, Amaryllis, which means the agency wanted to distract you, send you on a hunt that wouldn’t lead anywhere. Who were your primary assets? Were they NSA sources or your own?”
“A combination of both. And Beacon, who I believed was an NSA asset until a few days ago.”
“How did you discover otherwise?”
“An anonymous source sent me a highly classified document on Minerva Protocol.”
“Anonymous?”
“Initially, yes, but I’m sure Beacon was responsible, given the role I discovered she plays within the organization.”
“Why do you think she waited so long to read you in?” I hadn’t answered yet when Wren spoke again. “Jekyll’s death.”
“That’s what I thought too. Moreover, did Mercury’s disappearance trigger his return and Prism’s escalation with Romanov?” I thought about having the same conversation with Reaper and wondered if he and Blackjack were making any progress.
She leaned forward and rested her arms on the table. “We need to address this brick wall you’ve come up against with Vera.”
“And?”
She motioned for me to sit beside her, then pulled up the secure NSA site. Each search she did—for Suzanne Henning, Lyra Carrington, and Mercury—yielded no results.
“I’d like to intervene, if you wouldn’t mind,” Wren offered.
“I’d appreciate it if you would.”
“Good.” She reached for her cell and put the call on speaker.
“I’ve been expecting you to reach out,” Vera answered.
“I’m here with Amaryllis, looking for information about?—”
“As I said, I’ve been anticipating hearing from you, but I’m afraid I cannot help. My hands are tied.”
Wren’s brow furrowed. “How do we untie them?”
“You’re slipping. How do you think?”
“Senate Intelligence?” I suggested.
“Well done, Amaryllis. And before you say anything else, I am unable to make the request on your behalf, given our agency is not officially conducting this investigation.”
