Page 89 of Code Name: Atticus
Saturday showed escalation, but unsurprisingly, the sender’s ID had changed.
Nolan couple profiles inconsistent. Possible federal investigation targeting operations.
Confidence level?
Seventy percent. Initiating contingency protocols if confirmed.
“He suspected us from the start,” I muttered.
“But didn’t know for certain,” said Alice. “Look at Monday.”
Confirmation received. Nolan couple identified as Mason Finch and Brenna Austen.
“Fuck. So we were blown almost from the beginning.” I wouldn’t question Alice now—or ever—but K19’s methodologies for cover identities and background were supposed to be airtight.
As if she knew the question rolling around in my head, Alice pulled up a complex web of data points. “They used extremely powerful data analysis software to investigate our fakeidentities—checking everything from our social media activity and financial records to facial recognition data from airports and border crossings.”
“Our covers were too perfect,” I realized. “Alice, your work is flawless, but?—”
“But that perfection itself becomes a tell to someone paranoid enough,” she finished. “Real people have messy histories. Credit dings, parking tickets, embarrassing social media from college. Our histories weren’t clean by any means, but once he got suspicious, he pulled in favors from everywhere. Which, by the way, points to several lower-level people within the DOJ itself.”
“Does Brenna know?” I asked.
Alice turned to me. “All evidence related to Justice went directly to Soledad Torres, Brenna’s boss. Per protocol.”
“Understood,” I said.
“Once he was suspicious, he started making calls,” added Tex. “One of the bastards we identified at the DOJ confirmed a major cybercrime investigation was active, targeting West Coast operations. Wasn’t hard for Morrison to put two and two together.”
The messages continued through the week, with Morrison instructing Trevor on exactly what to plant and when. But Saturday afternoon’s exchange laid out what had gone down later that night.
Partner arriving tonight. Perfect misdirection opportunity.
Contact L1. Standard protocol for 2100.
Confirmed. Full package ready.
“Morrison knew exactly what we’d hear and how we’d interpret it,” I said. “They used coded language, but we can trace the actual meaning through their other communications. ‘Full investor package’ meant using terminology that would trigger federal investigators. ‘Milestone payment’ was the ten million.”
Alice pulled up more decrypted data. “The payments to Mindy were grooming, keeping Trevor compromised. But the actual frame job was activated Friday night after Morrison confirmed you were federal agents. Everything since then has been damage control.”
“Take a look at this,” said Tex, highlighting patterns in the system access logs. “Luke has a security protocol he’s used since his Air Force days.”
Legitimate access logs from the previous month appeared.
“See this handshake sequence? Double authentication with rotating passwords, then a specific pause pattern between directory accesses. Two seconds, seven seconds, one second. Consistent every time.” Tex shook his head. “The forged accesses don’t have this pattern. They couldn’t replicate it because they didn’t know it existed. Classic mistake of a rushed frame job—they copied surface credentials but missed behavioral signatures.”
My phone buzzed with a call from Kodiak.
“Tell me you have something good,” I answered, immediately putting the call on speaker.
“Trevor just tried to board a flight to Costa Rica. TSA held him on the watch list Admiral activated.”
“Has he said anything?”
“Only that he wants immunity in exchange for testimony. Apparently, he’s trying to negotiate—says he has recordings that prove his innocence but implicate others.”
“Tell them we have evidence that makes his testimony unnecessary but valuable. He can cooperate and get consideration, or face conspiracy to commit espionage, wire fraud, and about twenty other charges,” said Admiral.
