Page 42 of Code Name: Atticus
“So, what do I call you? I mean, won’t it be weird if I suddenly call you Mason in briefings?”
“To be honest, I wouldn’t mind in the slightest if you did. If you’re worried about it, then call me Atticus like you have been. When we’re alone, and particularly when your naked body is pressed against mine, I’ll remind you that Mason is the name I want to hear from your lips.” He knelt in front of me and spread my legs. “Now, let’s practice.”
“God, Mason,” I cried out, clinging to him as he made me come again.
An hour later,showered and dressed and trying to look like professional operatives instead of newly in love idiots, we were in the kitchen when my phone rang. Blocked number.
“Bronwyn Nolan,” I answered on speaker.
“Mrs. Nolan, this is Patricia calling for Mr. Morrison. First, he wanted me to make sure everything was okay. We missed you at the event last night.”
“Our apologies. I came down with a bout of food poisoning yesterday afternoon. I’m feeling much better today, though.”
“That’s terrible, and I’m happy to hear you’ve recovered. Mr. Morrison would like to invite you and your husband to dinner this evening, if you’re feeling up to it.”
“We’d be delighted.”
“Wonderful. Nineteen hundred hours at Maison Blanc in Atherton. Mr. Morrison asked me to mention that Mr. Liu and Mr. Castellano are eager to meet you both.”
“Actually,” I said, “we have friends in town who were at the yacht party last night—Jordan and Sarah Mitchell? They mentioned meeting Mr. Morrison. Would it be possible for them to join us? They’re also in the defense technology space.”
“Let me check with Mr. Morrison.” I heard muffled conversation in the background. “Mr. Morrison says he’d be delighted to have the Mitchells join you. He enjoyed speaking with them last night.”
“Wonderful. Thanks so much.”
After I ended the call, Atticus whistled low. “Quick thinking on bringing the Mitchells.”
“Morrison already met them. Makes it more natural.”
The doorbell rang at exactlyzero nine hundred. Kodiak and Emma stood there, Kodiak with his gear bag and Emma holding a box of pastries.
“Figured you might not have had time for a proper breakfast,” Emma said with a knowing smile that suggested she knew exactly why we might have been too busy to cook.
“Thanks,” Atticus said, taking the box and motioning them inside, then opening it after setting it on the counter. “Damn, these look good.”
“They’re from that bakery near our hotel,” Emma said with a slight eye roll. “The Four Seasons. We’re sharing a suite to maintain the Mitchell cover.”
“Separate sleeping areas,” Kodiak added quickly.
“Before we get into the yacht party,” I said, “Morrison’s office just called. All four of us are invited to dinner tonight at Maison Blanc in Atherton. Seven o’clock. All three principals will be there.”
“Good,” Emma said. “That means they’re interested.”
Kodiak set up his tablet while Emma took a seat at the counter. “Let’s review what happened at the yacht party first, then we’ll prepare for tonight.”
He connected his tablet to our monitor. “Emma and I have a lot to share from last night. The footage from the yacht shows how Morrison and his buddies are running their sophisticated operation.”
The first video was of the yacht’s main deck, crowded with Bay Area’s tech elite. Morrison, Liu, and Castellano were easy to spot, each holding court in different areas.
“Watch how they work,” Kodiak said. “It’s coordinated. They each have a specific role.”
Morrison handled the executives and their wives with broad gestures and easy laughter. Liu engaged the technical people in intense, quiet conversations. Castellano worked the money people, all champagne toasts and enthusiasm.
“They’re dividing the targets by expertise,” Atticus observed.
“Exactly. And they’re good at it. Very practiced.”
“Morrison approached us separately at first,” Emma added. “Testing our knowledge and our connections.”
