Page 86 of Code Name: Atticus
“You should try to sleep,” Emma said gently, setting a cup of chamomile tea on the side table.
“I can’t.” How could I sleep when Luke was in a cell? When everything I’d built with Atticus was hanging by a thread? When I’d have to face my parents tomorrow and tell them their son had been arrested for treason?
“I’ll stay in your guest room if that’s okay. You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
I nodded, grateful for her presence even though nothing could make this better. Emma understood disaster—she’d worked financial crimes long enough to know how quickly a life could unravel, how one moment could destroy everything you thought you knew.
She retreated to the guest room after making sure I’d gotten into bed and drunk at least some of the tea. But sleep was impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Luke’s face when he’d spotted me in that hallway. The devastation in his eyes when he’d begged me to believe him.
At midnight, I lay staring at my bedroom ceiling, my phone dark on the nightstand. Atticus had stopped texting hours ago. The last message preview I’d seen before deleting them all had started with “Please let me explain—” but there was nothing to explain. Actions spoke louder than words, and his actions weren’t enough.
Luke was innocent.
The evidence was wrong.
I’d failed by letting fear override my instinct. But Atticus had failed worse. How could I trust him to fight for us if he couldn’t fight harder for Luke? Maybe we’d moved too fast. Maybe we didn’t really know each other at all. I didn’t know if we could come back from this.
ATTICUS
The federal transport van pulled away from the hotel, taking Luke to the airport in chains. I stood frozen in the parking lot, watching the convoy disappear around the corner while Brenna’s words echoed in my head.I expected you to fight harder for him.
She was right. I should have trusted what I knew about Luke’s character. Instead, I’d quoted evidence at him like some bureaucrat who forgot that Luke had saved my career once, standing up to a colonel when it could have destroyed his own future.
“The plane’s waiting,” Admiral said beside me, his hand on my shoulder. The weight of it was meant to be comforting, but all I felt was the burden of my failure.
“Which plane?” I asked.
“The Gulfstream. Executive terminal.”
Great. K19’s private jet would take us back to headquarters while Luke and Brenna traveled across the country in God knew what kind of FBI-owned aircraft.
Half an hour later, we climbed aboard at SFO. The cabin smelled like coffee and leather, familiar scents that felt wrong, given what had just happened. I dropped into one of theseats, the same one I’d occupied on the flight out here when I was worried about keeping the woman I loved—the one who wouldn’t even look at me when she walked past—safe during the investigation that had gone to hell in ways I never could’ve imagined.
“Kodiak and Tank are maintaining surveillance on Trevor Collins,” Admiral said as we settled in. “Emma’s accompanying Brenna through the transport process.”
“At least she’s not alone.” Though having Emma there might make it worse—a constant reminder that a friend had shown up for her while I’d stood there, spouting probable cause.
The familiar whine of the engines spinning up filled the cabin. Outside the window, the tarmac blurred as we taxied toward the runway.
Admiral pulled out his tablet as the pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Flight time to Albany is approximately five hours, then another hour by helicopter to headquarters. Weather looks good.”
“She’ll come around when we prove Luke’s innocent,” Admiral said as we taxied toward the runway.
“Then, let’s start by reviewing the evidence against him.”
I opened my laptop and turned it so he could see the screen too.
Admiral leaned forward. “What am I looking at?”
“Compression. Every piece of evidence—the deposits, the system access, the encrypted communications—all of it appeared within the past week.” The Sierra Nevada mountains emerged through breaks in the clouds as I pulled up more files. “Real espionage doesn’t work this way. Asset development takes months, sometimes years of cultivation. This looks like someone crammed an entire recruitment cycle into days.”
“Devil’s advocate—maybe Luke got desperate. His company’s struggling, his partner’s pushing for expansion?—”
“Luke doesn’t do desperate. He does methodical.” I pulled up additional records.
We hit turbulence over Nevada, and the coffee sloshed in the cup Admiral had poured himself. He steadied it while studying the deposit records. “These are textbook structuring. Nine thousand nine hundred, nine thousand eight hundred fifty, nine thousand nine hundred twenty.”
“Too textbook. Real money laundering has human error. People get nervous, make mistakes, forget the limits, round to even numbers because humans like patterns. This is someone following an algorithm.”
