Page 15 of Code Name: Reaper (K19 Allied Intelligence Team Two #5)
AMARYLLIS
I woke with a start to find Reaper standing in the darkness near the foot of my bed.
I sat up, went to cover myself with the blanket, then realized I was still fully dressed. “How did I get in here?”
“You fell asleep on the sofa, and I carried you.”
“Oh, um, thanks.” My voice was thick with sleep and confusion. “Is everything okay?”
“You were dreaming.”
My face burned as fragments of the dream returned to the forefront of my mind.
He moved toward the door. “I should let you sleep.”
“Wait—” The word escaped before I could stop it.
He paused and rested his hand on the doorframe. “Yeah?”
I couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t explain that I’d had the most vivid, intense sexual dream of my life starring him, and that I’d probably moaned his name aloud. “Nothing. Um, thanks again.”
“Good night, Charity,” he said softly, and then he was gone, leaving me alone in the darkness.
I slid down on the pillow. My heart pounded as details of my dream returned.
Reaper’s hands threading through my hair, his mouth hot against my throat, my body arching beneath his while I called out his name in breathless gasps.
We’d been in this very bed, but we weren’t colleagues maintaining boundaries.
We weren’t running for our lives or searching for missing persons.
In the dream, he’d taken his time undressing me, his fingers trailing fire across my skin as each piece of clothing fell away.
The way he’d looked at me—like I was precious, someone he wanted and desired—made me writhe against his touch as his hands had mapped every curve and hollow, learning what made me gasp, what made me beg him for more.
I remembered the weight of his body over mine, the heat of his skin, how he’d whispered my name like a prayer as he settled between my thighs. Then how I’d guided him into me, both of us moving together in rhythm, building toward something that felt inevitable and necessary and right.
The dream had seemed so real I could still feel the phantom sensation of his lips on my neck, the memory of his hands cupping my breasts, and the way he’d made me come apart beneath him with a combination of tenderness and hunger that left me breathless.
Even now, lying alone in the darkness, my body ached with want. The dream had awakened something I’d been trying to suppress, a hunger.
My hand drifted beneath the covers, following the path his dream-fingers had taken. I imagined them instead of mine as I touched myself, remembering the way he’d made me feel in that impossible fantasy—safe enough to surrender completely.
When it came, my release was swift and intense, leaving me gasping his name into the empty room. For a moment, I lay there, caught between satisfaction and shame, wondering what it meant that I’d brought myself to climax while thinking about the man sleeping down the hall.
Eventually, exhaustion pulled me under, and I dozed fitfully until morning.
When I found Reaper in the kitchen at zero seven hundred after I’d showered and dressed to return to the command center, I could barely meet his eyes.
“Ready?” He handed me a travel mug of coffee without comment, his fingers brushing mine in a way that made my pulse jump.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
The drive to the estate gave me time to process what had happened last night beyond the dream.
He’d broken fundamental security protocols by revealing the identity of an asset in order to prove I could trust him. He’d put Dagger’s life in my hands because of two words I spoke: “Your source.”
It should have been reassuring. The first person I could truly trust after Mercury’s systematic lies, after discovering my entire support system had been built on deception.
Instead, it terrified me. Because trusting him meant depending on him, and depending on anyone again felt like signing myself up for more heartache.
But even as fear clawed at me, I couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through my chest when I thought about his words when he explained why he’d divulged the name of his source.
“Because you’re the only person I’ve met who fights for people the way I do.
” He saw something in me worth protecting, worth trusting. That mattered more than it should have.
We were pulling through the estate gates when his phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen, then continued to the main residence and parked.
“What is it?” I asked when he didn’t get out of the SUV.
“Dagger answered the message I sent last night.” He handed me the phone. “Read it.”
The response was brief but explosive. Lt. General Jason Briggs, USAF Retired. Subject of Prism and Mercury’s investigation at USAFA. Active Russian intelligence consultant at Pentagon. Financial irregularities suggest alternative revenue streams.
I stared at the screen, my heart racing. “Jason Briggs?”
“Sounds like he’s our guy.”
I was already pulling up search engines on my tablet before he finished speaking.
“Lieutenant General Jason Briggs, retired Air Force.” The results populated quickly, and I read them out loud.
“Career military officer, decorated veteran, confirmed as current government consultant specializing in Russian affairs. And owner of a sixty-million-dollar mansion in Old Alexandria, Virginia.” I clicked on the real estate photos, then angled my tablet so Reaper could see the screen.
“How does a retired three-star afford this?”
“Could be inherited wealth, or marriage. Then again, it could also be legitimate consulting income?—”
“Or he’s dirty as hell,” I snapped, annoyed by his automatic defense of a man whom his own asset had called out as suspicious. Why did he always have to consider every innocent possibility first?
I kept digging, cross-referencing dates and positions.
“He was superintendent of the Air Force Academy during the exact period Prism and Mercury were both there undercover.” My fingers flew across the screen.
“And look at this—his retirement in June coincides exactly with Mercury’s departure from the academy and the termination of the Operation Avalon investigation. ”
“That’s not a coincidence,” Reaper said grimly.
A sharp rap on the SUV window made me jump. I lowered it when I saw my brother standing next to the vehicle.
“You two planning to come inside any time soon? Nemesis is holding the morning briefing until you show up.”
“Sorry.” I closed my tablet. “We received some critical intel.”
Blackjack’s expression shifted as he took in our faces. “Everything okay?”
“We’ll brief inside,” Reaper muttered, shutting off the engine.
As we walked toward the manor, Blackjack fell into step beside his brother. “What the hell happened to you two? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Tell you later,” Reaper snapped.
Blackjack didn’t press, but I could feel his curious glances as we entered the building.
The morning briefing was a blur. I tried to focus on Nemesis’s updates on the intel that had come in overnight, but my mind kept racing with what the Briggs discovery could mean.
After seven months of dead ends and false leads, we’d finally hit on something significant.
While I doubted it would help us find Mercury now, knowing what she and Prism were investigating all those years ago might provide some clues.
I caught Nemesis glancing between Reaper and me several times, her sharp eyes noting our distraction.
We were seated side by side, and I could feel the tension radiating from both of us.
I hoped she wouldn’t call us out directly.
I couldn’t speak for him, but I wasn’t prepared to discuss our discovery in front of a room full of people.
When she concluded the briefing, she didn’t miss a beat.
“Reaper, Amaryllis, I’d like to see you both in the library. Wren, you too.”
Once we were seated around the library table, Nemesis got straight to the point. “What’s going on?”
Reaper and I exchanged glances. No point in delaying the inevitable.
“We have a target.” I reiterated all we’d learned about the man from a few minutes of online searches.
“It all adds up in terms of him being the focus of the investigation.” Nemesis leaned against her chair and folded her arms. “Thoughts on our next move?”
“I think we should meet with him,” I responded, hoping like hell they’d green-light it. As I’d told Reaper prior to agreeing to travel to England with him, if the coalition tried to bench me or shut me out of my own investigation, I’d walk.
“The cover is easy enough,” Wren began. “If he’s a Russian intelligence expert, then us wanting to bring him in on Romanov makes perfect sense.”
I looked between her and Nemesis.
“Good thinking,” she finally said, then opened her laptop. “I was going to suggest scheduling a videoconference with Hal Edmonds, but if your intention is to meet with Briggs in person, you could engage him at the same time. Actually, first.”
“Where’s he based out of?” Reaper asked.
“Briggs is based out of Newport News. Edmonds is based farther north. You could fly into Williamsburg…”
Nemesis was still talking, but the sound of blood rushing through my system drowned her out.
Newport News? Yes, it was a city with a population of close to two hundred thousand and a place where many military and civilian government employees retired to, but that yet another person was based in my hometown didn’t feel like a coincidence.
I glanced up at Reaper, who was studying me.
When our gazes met, he shifted his leg so it pressed against mine.
God, how I wished he could take my hand in his, or better yet, pull me into his arms and tell me he understood how I was feeling and the two of us would follow this lead like any others—together.
The idea was ludicrous, given, no more than a minute ago, I was prepared to walk out if Nemesis hadn’t agreed to the meeting with Briggs. Then what? Would Reaper follow, or would I be on my own again?