Page 2 of Code Name: Reaper (K19 Allied Intelligence Team Two #5)

REAPER

W ren’s voice cut through the briefing room. “I want every resource we have focused on finding Agent Beaudoin. Now.”

The transformation was immediate. The best intelligence operatives in the world shifted into action without hesitation.

“Hornet, contact the NRO immediately. You and your team need satellite coverage of every major transport hub in central Europe. Real-time feeds and archived footage from the last seventy-two hours. Priority focus on railway stations, airports, and bus terminals.” She pulled up a digital map on the display.

“Delfino, you’re responsible for financial tracking across all networks.

Every bank, every ATM, every transaction service, every cash exchange that could possibly connect to her.

“Blackjack, access the databases of airlines, railway, bus companies, rental car agencies, anything that moves passengers across international borders. Cross-reference with her physical description.”

“I’ve never seen Wren like this,” Blackjack commented in a low voice.

“Never.” The woman usually reminded me of a Southern-belle type. In fact, I frequently questioned whether she had really been the superspy rumors indicated she was. Now, I got it.

The room exploded into controlled chaos. Multiple conversations started simultaneously as the coalition’s intelligence network activated. This was what superior resources looked like—what I’d needed access to when I wasn’t getting anywhere on my own.

Wren motioned me over to where she sat at a worktable. “Tell me how Amaryllis thinks.”

“She operates on instinct, not data. Reads people and situations, and makes gut decisions based on what feels right rather than what intelligence reports indicate.” I stared at the digital map. “In Montenegro, she wanted to change entire ops’ plans based on a premonition.”

“Which means conventional tracking methodologies won’t work. We’ll have to consider other ways to predict her movements. Standard behavioral analysis won’t give us shit.”

“That’s right. She’ll do whatever feels right in the moment, even if it doesn’t make tactical sense from a data-driven perspective. She trusts her instincts over hard intel one-hundred percent of the time.”

And that approach had driven me goddamn crazy during our joint investigations.

Every time I developed a logical plan based on solid information, she’d want to modify it because of empathetic bullshit.

No empirical data to support her concerns, no analytical basis for her modifications. She relied mostly on intuition.

It was like working with someone who threw out the playbook every time they got a hunch. Professional operatives relied on systematic approaches to problem-solving. Not her.

I looked down at my clenched fists and rolled my shoulders.

“It’s okay. Take your time,” Wren offered.

“We don’t have time to waste,” I snapped.

“You’re right.” She looked over her shoulder. “Delfino, initial results from financial tracking?”

“Running comprehensive searches across all major European financial networks now. There’s nothing. No credit card usage, no bank transfers, no ATM withdrawals, no electronic payments of any kind detected in the past nine days.”

Wren stood and paced. “She’s operating entirely on pre-positioned cash reserves. Emergency funds that wouldn’t show up in any standard financial monitoring systems. What’s your assessment of her cash sustainability?”

“Depends on her risk tolerance. If she’s carrying high-value euros and willing to live rough, potentially enough for two to three weeks of sustained operations. Significantly less if she needs to purchase transportation tickets, safe-house access, or specialized equipment,” Delfino responded.

“She’ll be careful about not depleting her resources too quickly,” I added. “She’s smart enough to know that running out of money means running out of options.”

Wren scribbled something I couldn’t read on a notepad. “Blackjack, transportation networks?”

“Accessing travel databases across six countries now. Nothing whatsoever by air, so we’ve moved on to ground transportation.

Austrian Federal Railways, Deutsche Bahn, Italian Trenitalia, Czech, Croatian, and Slovenian railways, plus all private coach and bus lines.

Cross-referencing cash purchase records with her physical description and timeline since Montenegro. ”

“Focus on patterns,” I added. “She won’t take direct routes. She’ll hop between cities, change transportation methods, and create false trails.”

“Start with major hub cities,” Wren ordered. “Locations that offer maximum route flexibility and complicate tracking efforts.”

“Beginning analysis with Vienna, Prague, Munich, Berlin, Zagreb, and Ljubljana,” Blackjack confirmed.

“Also check smaller regional connections,” I added. “She might use secondary routes to avoid major surveillance points.”

“Hornet, satellite surveillance status?”

“The NRO is bringing multiple reconnaissance satellites online now. They’re pulling archived footage and activating real-time surveillance protocols for ongoing tracking.”

Wren stood and faced the rest of the work areas.

“Agent Beaudoin disappeared from Montenegro nine days ago. My hunch is that she’s had a specific destination or objective in mind from the beginning of her disappearance.

We need to think, people. What would Amaryllis do? Climb into her head and work this out.”

“She has tunnel vision,” I agreed. “All she can think about is staying far enough ahead of Prism and the Russians to continue her search for Mercury.”

Wren turned to Hornet. “Any results yet?”

“The NRO thinks they have a hit.”

The main display filled with an aerial view of Westbahnhof—Vienna’s central railway station. The image quality was sharp enough to track individual pedestrians moving through the complex. I stood and approached the screen.

“There.” I pointed at a figure in dark clothing crossing the main concourse. The stride was unmistakable. “That’s her.”

Wren stood beside me. “Can we confirm via facial recognition?”

“We have partial visibility due to baseball cap positioning, but gait analysis and body-language indicators provide a strong correlation,” Hornet replied. “Confidence level eighty-seven percent.”

“I know that’s her,” I seethed under my breath.

“If Reaper says it’s her, it’s her.” Wren turned to Hornet. “Initiate our own tracking, and do not lose her.”

The surveillance feeds showed her progress through the station complex.

She moved past electronic departure boards, through automated ticket barriers, and toward the platform-access areas.

Classic evasion techniques—checking reflections in shop windows, varying her walking pace, never looking directly at security cameras, maintaining awareness of potential observation points.

“She knows what she’s doing…” I muttered under my breath.

Wren nudged me. “The NSA doesn’t produce amateurs.” It was the first time in an hour that she’d joked in a way that reminded me of the person I’d believed her to be. A split second later, she switched into operational mode. “Platform destination?”

“Deutsche Bahn.”

“She boarded the Intercity Express,” Hornet confirmed.

“She’s in Berlin,” I muttered.

Wren studied me. “You’re certain?”

“Affirmative. Major metropolitan area, multiple exit routes, extensive public transportation networks. Perfect for disappearing into urban anonymity.”

“Or for staging an op,” Wren added.

Hornet turned to me. “Berlin has resources, international connections, and places to acquire equipment or support.”

“Confirm she actually boarded that specific train,” Wren ordered.

“Affirmative. Departure at fourteen hundred would put her in Germany’s capital at twenty-two thirty,” Blackjack reported.

Hornet leaned closer to his screen. “The NRO is accessing Berlin Hauptbahnhof arrival footage now.”

The wait for feeds stretched for several minutes. Every second felt like wasted time while Amaryllis got farther ahead of us or deeper into whatever dangerous situation she was creating.

“Confirmed,” Hornet announced. “Same individual identified exiting the Berlin-bound train at twenty-two-forty, matching the Vienna schedule.”

“Track her movements outside the station,” Wren instructed.

The satellite footage advanced, following Amaryllis as she bypassed taxi stands and bus terminals, heading directly toward public transportation access points.

“U-Bahn entrance,” I noted. “Underground rail system, much harder to track via satellite, multiple route options, and connections throughout the city.”

“Smart choice,” Wren commented. “Maintains mobility while complicating surveillance. Delfino, Berlin public transit records?”

“No electronic payment transactions registered under any known identities. She’s maintaining strict cash-only operational protocols.”

“Hornet, can we track underground movement?”

“It’s limited, but we can monitor street-level emergence points throughout the network.”

“Coordinate with the German Federal Intelligence Service.”

“They’re providing access now,” Hornet reported. “Facial recognition software is processing thousands of camera feeds throughout the city.”

“Results?”

“She took the U6 line toward the Kreuzberg district. Travel time is approximately forty minutes, based on subway schedules.”

“Street-level tracking capabilities?”

“Multiple camera angles available throughout the route. She emerged at Hallesches Tor station.”

“There!” Wren pointed at a new camera feed displaying a figure exiting the subway station. “She’s moving through the residential area.”

“The NRO confirms entry into a multi-story building on Zossener Strasse,” Hornet announced.

“Entry timestamp?”

“Four hours and fifteen minutes ago. No recorded exit detected from any monitored camera angle since entry.”

“Building architectural details?”

“Multiple entrance points, including main street access and rear courtyard entry. Fire-escape systems on both sides of the structure give numerous escape-route options.”