Page 3 of Code Name: Atticus
That time, I heard the comment she made under her breath but decided to ignore it. Wanted to? My brain conjured the image of her spread out naked on that mattress, and once it had, it was all I could think about. Even thoughts of Luke wouldn’t wipe it away. As if it had been imprinted there forever.
After wandering around the main level, where there weren’t any spaces conducive to sleeping, then venturing to the lowest floor, where there was another much larger workout room and spaces for two cars, I decided to put sleeping arrangements on the back burner and at least get settled.
I grabbed my go-bag and returned to the primary suite, where I found Brenna in the walk-in closet. The space was larger than most hotel rooms.
I glanced around, deciding that maybe this could be where I’d bunk.
Since Brenna’s clothes only took up maybe a quarter of what was there, I had enough real estate to house my entire wardrobe three times over.
“Overcompensating much?” I muttered, eyeing the ridiculous amount of storage.
“The previous owner was a crypto billionaire who collected vintage designer suits,” Brenna said over her shoulder as she walked out. “Apparently, he owned over two hundred jackets.”
“What happened to him?”
“Securities fraud. He’s currently enjoying federal accommodations. That’s how we ended up with this place. The DOJ seized the house as part of his asset forfeiture. We’re essentially house-sitting for the government.”
“Makes me feel better about the taxpayer expense,” I muttered.
She leaned against the doorframe, watching me hang my shirts up. “You know, you don’t have to organize everything like we’re preparing for an inspection.”
“Old habits.” I moved to the dresser, where I continued arranging my gear with the same methodical approach I’d used in every safe house from Kandahar to Kosovo.
“Is there anything we need to review tonight?” she asked, covering her mouth when she yawned.
“The mission briefing with K19 Sentinel Cyber is tomorrow at ten hundred,” I said, needing to focus on something other than how good she looked in my peripheral vision. “As for our team, Kodiak will handle security logistics, Alice will walk us through our digital identities, and Tank and Dragon will serve in primary support roles.”
“I like her. She and I coordinated on some of the financial analysis.” She moved back to the bed, where she’d spread out several file folders.
“Dragon or Alice?” I asked.
“Both.”
I rolled my eyes and stopped myself from pointing out that her comment had been about one person, so how the hell could her answer beboth? “Most people find Dragon intimidating,” I said instead.
“Most people aren’t federal prosecutors who’ve spent years dealing with hostile witnesses and defense attorneys.” She sat cross-legged on the bed. “What’s your read on the Silicon Valley crowd we’ll be infiltrating?”
“Entitled tech billionaires who think money makes them untouchable.”
She opened a folder and pulled out several photographs. “That’s the surface level. What about operationally?”
I considered moving to sit on the edge of the bed, where I could see what she’d laid out, but pulled a chair over instead. “New money trying to buy old-money respectability. They’ll be looking for authentication—proof we belong in their world.”
She spread the pictures between us—surveillance shots of men in expensive suits made to look casual at various social gatherings. “I’ve been studying venture capital firms and startup culture for weeks. The key is making them think we’re useful to them, not the other way around.”
“Useful how?”
“You provide high-end security services. I have connections to DC money and political influence.” She pointed to one of the suits. “Together, we represent something they can’t buy—legitimacy and protection.”
“And when they try to recruit us for their little intelligence theft network?”
“We let them. But with just enough hesitation to make it believable.”
I watched as she organized the files with the same attention to detail she probably applied to legal briefs. “How much undercover work have you done?”
“Some, but not like this.” She glanced up, and her brow furrowed. “I’ve worked with informants, run sting operations, but I’ve never had to live a cover identity twenty-four seven. Or pretend to be married. What about you?”
Was she asking about undercover ops or one involving a fake relationship? The answer was either hundreds or none. “It’s what I do for a living,” I muttered as I headed for the bathroom, needing space to think. “I’m going to try to figure out this shower. Try not to let the smart home system lock me in there.”
