Page 11 of Code Name: Atticus
“Definitely downstairs,” she decided, immediately getting off the bed.
We took a seat at the dining table where we’d been before, and I opened our fabricated background files. “If they probe our supposed vulnerabilities, we need consistent, believableresponses about why we might be motivated to consider illegal income sources.”
For the next two hours, we immersed ourselves in preparation. We rehearsed responses to hypothetical recruitment approaches, developed consistent backstories for our relationship and professional histories, and synchronized our behavioral responses to various social scenarios.
“How would you respond if Morrison approached you privately and offered a legitimate consulting contract worth three times your normal rate?” she asked.
“Express interest, but mention that my current security clearance work restricts certain types of private consulting. Create an opening for him to suggest alternative arrangements that might bypass official channels.”
“Good. And if he asks about the economic pressure?”
“Mention the delayed government contracts, express frustration with bureaucratic payment delays, and suggest that I’m considering expanding into private sector work to reduce dependence on federal contracts.”
She nodded approvingly. “My turn. You’re Liu, and you’re probing my fund’s performance pressure.”
“Mrs. Nolan, I’ve been following your fund’s portfolio performance. Impressive work, but I imagine your investors are demanding higher returns in the current market environment.”
“They always want more,” she responded, diving into role-playing. “Especially when they see other funds posting fifteen, twenty percent gains. Sometimes I wonder if they understand that legitimate investments have ethical constraints that limit potential profits.”
“Interesting perspective. Have you ever considered opportunities that might exist outside traditional ethical frameworks?”
“What kind of opportunities?”
Perfect. She’d created the opening without appearing eager or suspicious.
“That was excellent,” I said. “You sounded genuinely frustrated. Curious about possibilities without seeming prepared for illegal proposals.”
“Thanks. This feels more natural than I expected.”
“Because you’re essentially playing yourself in an alternate reality. Same smarts, same competence, just with a different moral flexibility.”
She smiled. “Speaking of moral flexibility, we should probably address the physical chemistry component of our cover. I was thinking we should go out.”
Physical chemistry. I felt like we had that in spades. “Out?”
“You know, maybe a romantic dinner later? We need to be comfortable with casual intimate contact in public settings.”
She was absolutely right. We’d need to look our parts convincingly, particularly since our cover story was that we hadn’t been married long.
“So, dinner?” I closed my laptop and pushed it to the side. “I mean, no reason not to start now.”
She raised a brow. “Okay…”
I stood and held my hand out. “Come with me.” I led her to the living room sofa, settling in the center and patting the cushion. “Sit here.”
As she sat down, I shifted closer so my thigh was pressed against hers.
“Better,” I murmured. “Now, rest your hand on my thigh like you do it all the time.”
Her fingers settled closer to my knee, I moved them up, then put my arm around her. She relaxed into me immediately.
“How does this feel?” I asked.
“Natural,” she admitted. “Surprisingly so.”
“Good. Because this needs to look effortless.”
“What about the rest?” she pressed.
