Page 29 of Code Name: Reaper (K19 Allied Intelligence Team Two #5)

The four of us settled around the dining table with enough Italian food to last a week. For the first twenty minutes, the conversation stayed safe—my mother’s stories from her diplomatic life, my father’s early days in tech, and Amaryllis sharing memories of growing up in the area.

But I could see my parents exchanging glances, reading the tension between us even when we tried to hide it. My mother had always been able to sense when something was wrong, a skill honed from years of navigating international crises.

After we’d finished the main course, my father leaned against his chair. “You mentioned wanting to know about the defense contracting world during my time at Cerberus.”

“I’ll cut to the chase, Dad. What do you remember about investigations or scandals in the industry?”

“Where do I start?” My father refilled his wineglass. “In those days, the defense world was cutthroat. The Cold War was over, budgets were shrinking, and companies were scrambling to stay profitable.”

Amaryllis leaned forward. “What did that look like from your perspective?”

“Aggressive bidding wars, for one thing. Companies would underbid contracts significantly, then find creative ways to inflate costs during execution. Change orders, scope creep, ‘unforeseen technical challenges’—you name it.”

“Was Cerberus involved in any of that?” I asked.

“Not directly, though we weren’t saints, either. But we focused on legitimate technical innovation rather than gaming the system.” He paused. “Others weren’t so ethical.”

“Was there anyone specific?” Amaryllis prompted.

“Northbridge Technologies was notorious for it. They’d bid twenty percent under everyone else, win the contract, then somehow, the final cost would be triple the original estimate. Every single time.”

“How did they get away with it?”

“Relationships. Their executives were former Pentagon officials who knew exactly which buttons to push and which palms to grease.” My father’s expression darkened. “There were rumors about defense officials receiving consulting contracts with these companies after they retired. Lucrative ones.”

“Revolving-door corruption,” I said.

“Exactly. But proving it was impossible. Everything was technically legal—former officials waiting the required cooling-off period, consulting arrangements that looked legitimate on paper.”

“Did you ever witness anything directly?” Amaryllis inquired.

My father was quiet for a moment. “There was a procurement meeting where a Pentagon official practically telegraphed which company was going to win a major contract. There were very specific technical questions that only one bidder was able to answer correctly. The whole thing was theater.”

“What happened to that official?” I asked.

“He retired six months later. Northbridge Technologies hired him as a senior consultant weeks later.”

“How widespread was this?” Amaryllis asked.

“More than anyone wanted to admit. The smart companies played the game, the ethical ones lost contracts, and the government got overpriced junk.” He shook his head. “There were whispers that some investigators were starting to connect the dots, building cases that could bring down major players.”

“Whispers?” I pressed.

“And then it all vanished into the ether, as they say.”

“Meaning?” Amaryllis asked.

“The chatter stopped. Like someone turned off a switch.”

I leaned forward and rested my elbows on the table after pushing my plate out of the way. “Does the name Avalon mean anything to you?”

My dad thought for a few seconds. “Not to me.” He looked at my mom. “You?”

“I don’t recall hearing it. Who were they? Another contractor?”

“Something like that.”

While my parents were momentarily confused, they caught on quickly.

“What about Minerva?” Amaryllis prompted.

“I do remember that name, but probably not in the same context,” said my mother. “It was the code name of a legendary CIA agent. James Bond-type almost.”

Amaryllis leaned forward like I had. “What happened to him?”

“Killed in the line of duty.”

“When was this?” I wondered.

“Gosh, after I left active service, but I hadn’t started consulting again. You boys were still in high school, so fifteen years ago? Maybe twenty?”

Amaryllis pressed my mom more about her career while my dad and I packed up the remaining food and cleaned up the dishes.

“How much longer will you be in town?” he asked as he put the last plate in the cupboard.

I leaned against the counter and glanced over at the table. “Amaryllis’ grandparents passed away a few years ago, and she still owns the house. I’m not sure if she wants to go through more of the contents now or on another trip.”

“It appears the two of you were able to sort things out,” my dad commented.

“With a little help from Mom.”

He chuckled. “She’s dying for you or your brother to settle down and get married.”

“Uh, let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves here.

Amaryllis and I…” God, what could I say?

Hardly knew each other? Wanted to claw each other’s eyes out when we first met?

That she was unlike any woman I’d ever known and I almost threw away my entire career to go rogue and find her when she went missing?

My father saved me from coming up with a response by squeezing my shoulder and chuckling as he returned to the table.

An hour later, we walked them to the door. As I closed it behind them, I felt the same way I did when Vera had left.

“James Bond-type agent code name Minerva, KIA?” I led Amaryllis over to the sofa.

She leaned against me. “To think I spent all those months searching for Mercury, following leads that went nowhere…”

“Nearly getting yourself killed.”

“I’ve learned more in the last twenty-four hours than in all those weeks combined. Who knew all the answers were waiting for me in Newport News?”

“My dad wanted to know how long we’d be here.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I wasn’t sure?—”

Her phone vibrated with an urgent alert.

“What is it?” I asked when she picked it up and studied the screen.

“Mercury’s made contact.”