Page 1 of Code Name: Tank (K19 Sentinel Cyber #4)

TANK

Twenty minutes later, I was walking through the doors of Kane Mountain Great Camp’s multi-level boathouse, which had been converted into a high-tech, ultra-secure command center. The scent of the brewed coffee I’d been anticipating had my mouth watering.

Civil twilight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting shadows across the room.

Under different circumstances, it would have been peaceful.

The kind of morning that reminded me why I’d agreed to live and work in a remote setting in the Adirondack Mountains rather than return to the frenetic pace of a place like DC or LA.

The tension radiating across the open space, however, suggested there’d be nothing peaceful about the day ahead.

“Morning, Tank.” Admiral’s tone carried the control that had made him legendary during his FBI days. “Have a seat.”

I took my usual chair, glancing around at who else had made it in this early.

Alice, Admiral’s wife and the co-leader of the newest division of K19 Security Solutions, was at the area we referred to as her digital hub, multiple monitors arranged around her, showing data streams I couldn’t interpret from this distance.

She looked pale this morning, and I noticed Admiral’s protective glance in her direction—something that had become more frequent since they shared their pregnancy news with the team.

Mason “Atticus” Finch, who, like me, had joined the unit at its inception, was positioned across from me, alert and engaged—the way he’d been during our Air Force days when a briefing was about to get interesting.

He caught my eye and grinned, then made an exaggerated point of looking between me and Dragon—two seats down from him—with raised eyebrows.

I shot him a warning look that made his grin wider.

Piper Drago looked like she’d been here for hours, which, knowing her dedication to the job, she probably had.

Her honey-blonde hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, and she wore dark jeans and a fitted navy sweater that managed to look both appropriate and distracting.

She didn’t glance in my direction when I sat down, but I felt the shift in her posture that told me she was conscious of my presence.

It had been like this for a year now. On that first day when Admiral had called another all-hands meeting to introduce our newest team member, I still remembered watching the command center door open, expecting another tech specialist like Atticus.

Instead, Dragon had walked in with the kind of situational awareness that marked her as former agency, assessing the space in the thirty seconds it took her to survey the room.

What drew my attention was everything else about her. Her clothes hugged curves that her composed demeanor couldn’t hide, and she carried herself with a confidence that commanded attention from everyone in the room, including me.

When Admiral introduced her, she’d stepped forward with a nod that was both direct and guarded, her hazel eyes meeting each person’s gaze.

“I handle signal intelligence and encryption,” she’d said, her tone carrying enough authority to establish credibility without seeming arrogant.

“I’m looking forward to working with all of you. ”

Simple. Direct. No unnecessary personal details or attempts at charm.

Throughout that first session, I’d watched her work—how she absorbed information and how her cheeks flushed when she realized I was observing her. When she leaned forward to examine Alice’s screen, I’d seen the elegant line of her neck.

Within an hour, she’d identified three security vulnerabilities in certain protocols that Alice had missed. Impressive as hell, and that made her even more attractive.

It was a professional evaluation of a colleague’s expertise, I’d told myself.

That lie had lasted all of one week.

Since then, Dragon had made her limits clear.

She requested assignments that kept her working independently, and if she walked into the kitchen for coffee and spotted me there, she’d almost immediately remember an urgent business elsewhere.

Her avoidance strategies were as systematic as they were obvious.

Given my reaction to her had been anything but work focused, it was probably for the best.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Admiral began, motioning for Alice to activate the main display screen, “we have a situation.”

Alice started to stand, then swayed. Her husband was beside her in an instant, one hand steadying her arm.

“I’m fine,” she murmured, but let him help her settle into her chair. “Just give me a minute.”

“Take your time,” Dragon said, moving to Alice’s work area. “I can handle the display.”

Atticus leaned over to me. “Twenty bucks says Admiral makes her go up to the main house before lunch,” he whispered.

“You’re on,” I replied in a low tone of voice, knowing Alice’s stubbornness would win out.

The Department of Justice seal appeared in front of us, followed by a confidentiality header that made me sit up straighter.

The DOJ didn’t call us in for routine cybersecurity consulting.

They engaged us when government agencies and federal law enforcement needed expertise they couldn’t provide internally.

“The DOJ contacted us last night, requesting an investigation consultation,” Admiral said. “This morning, we received word that Secretary James Hartwell is flying in personally to review our role.”

Alice activated a secondary screen, displaying a map of the United States with red markers at two locations.

“Titan Defense in El Segundo and Apex Aerospace in Fort Worth—both were hit within three days of each other. Last Tuesday, Titan’s CFO discovered contract funds had been diverted from their accounts, forcing them to delay missile guidance deliveries and reduce production schedules.

Friday, Apex suffered the same theft, causing similar operational cutbacks. ”

A door opened at the rear of the command center. “Apologies for the delay,” said the man who entered, approaching the table with confident strides. “I was called into a last-minute meeting.”

Admiral nodded. “Everyone, this is Secretary of the Treasury James Hartwell. Sir, thank you for joining us.”

The man had the kind of steady presence typical of a cabinet member—someone accustomed to handling crises with calm authority.

He stood near Admiral, his eyes scanning the room before settling on Dragon with recognition.

“Thank you for accommodating me. The sophistication of what we’re seeing requires unprecedented collaboration between the DOJ and Treasury. ”

When she realized his attention was directed at her, Dragon’s posture relaxed, as if his presence was reassuring rather than intimidating.

“We’re tracking some concerning intel,” Hartwell said. His voice carried a strain that didn’t match his composed appearance. “Money moving in ways that suggest organized financing, but we need to be cautious not to jump to conclusions until we have more evidence.”

I leaned forward. “What is the fiscal impact so far?”

“One point two billion in delayed contracts,” Admiral responded.

“Both production lines were manufacturing systems for deployment—Ukraine and Taiwan,” Hartwell added.

He cleared his throat, and I noticed his hands clench before he continued.

“The thieves knew which contracts to hit for maximum strategic impact. What’s troubling is that whoever did this had access to classified funding systems through compromised government authorization codes. ”

“How did they get those codes?” Dragon asked. “Treasury systems are supposed to be impenetrable.”

Hartwell’s expression grew more troubled. “That’s what’s deeply concerning. Our systems are supposed to be the most secure in the world.”

“If someone found a way to breach them...” Alice said, trailing off as the implications sank in.

“We need to determine how this happened,” said Admiral.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath as I realized the gravity of what we were dealing with. We weren’t discussing corporate embarrassment. We were talking about military readiness.

“Foreign operatives?” Dragon asked.

“Almost certainly,” Alice said. “The sophistication of the unauthorized transfers suggests whoever is doing this has significant resources, and the timing coordination points to an organized operation.”

“This feels like a probe,” Hartwell said, his voice taking on a gentler tone as he looked at Dragon. “Testing our response times. I suspect we’re seeing preparation for a larger-scale operation.”

Admiral’s gaze swept the room before settling on Dragon and me. “The DOJ wants a comprehensive assessment. Dragon, we need you to determine the source of these financial breaches and identify the transfer methods. Tank, you’ll work with Treasury.”

I felt a tightness in my chest as I realized where this was headed. The assignment I’d been both hoping for and dreading since Dragon joined K19.

“Timeline?” Dragon asked.

“Departure first thing tomorrow,” Admiral replied. “First assessment at Titan Defense tomorrow afternoon.”

“Any intel on potential perpetrators?” I asked.

“That’s what we need you to determine,” said Hartwell. His response came too fast, and I caught the way his eyes avoided direct contact. “I don’t want to influence your findings with premature conclusions. What we need are fresh eyes on this.”

He glanced at his phone, then raised his head. “I have to return to Washington. Keep me informed of your progress—all communications should go through me.”

Dragon’s eyebrows rose at that directive, but she didn’t comment.

“Thank you for coming, sir,” Admiral said.

“Of course. And I’ll make sure you have direct access to any Treasury assets you need.

Keep me abreast of your progress.” When he turned to Dragon, his tone shifted to genuine warmth, though something in his expression seemed strained.

“Good to see you again, Agent Drago. I’m glad you’re leading this inquiry—your abilities are what we need.

” I noticed Dragon’s first real smile of the morning.

“Thank you, James,” she said quietly. “I appreciate your continued confidence in my abilities.”

As Hartwell gathered his materials, preparing to leave, I wondered what the connection between the Secretary of the Treasury and a former CIA intelligence specialist was.

“Physical security concerns for site visits?” Atticus asked.

“Unknown at this time, but assume elevated threat level. Standard K19 protection protocols for high-risk ops,” Admiral said.

“What about contact methods?” Alice asked, then pressed a hand to her stomach with a grimace. “If federal agencies have been compromised…”

Admiral was instantly alert. “Alice, you should?—”

“I’m fine,” she said, scowling at him.

“Use K19 proprietary encryption,” Dragon said. “No data flows through federal networks unless authorized by Admiral, Alice, or myself. Actually, given the breaches, maybe we should route everything through our systems exclusively.”

Hartwell paused at the door. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll ensure secure channels for any Treasury communications.”

After he left, the session continued for another ten minutes, covering logistical details.

I absorbed the information while fighting my awareness of Dragon’s presence two seats away.

My ability to concentrate had always been my strength, but apparently, it had limits when it came to brilliant women with the kind of skills that made me want to simultaneously protect and partner with them.

Atticus leaned over and whispered, “Friction creates fire, my friend.” His grin was insufferable.

When we were dismissed, I gathered my materials and headed for the exit. The reality of the assignment was sinking in—Dragon and I would be working closer than we ever had before.

As I paused near the door, I watched Admiral help Alice to her feet, his hand on her lower back.

The pregnancy was still early, but the changes were showing—her fatigue, his increased protectiveness, the way Dragon had stepped in to help.

It made me think about the stability they had, the family they were building.

My own family had always been a steady foundation.

Sunday dinners at my parents’ house in upstate New York, my sister bringing her kids, everyone talking over each other in the comfortable chaos of people who belonged together.

I’d grown up taking that for granted, but watching Dragon over the past year, I’d started to realize not everyone had that kind of security.

She never mentioned her family. There were no photos on her desk, no stories about childhood traditions, no mentions of holiday plans. It made me want to wrap her in the warmth of my family’s kitchen and introduce her to my mother’s famous apple pie and my father’s ridiculous puns.

The thought of bringing Dragon home for Thanksgiving—of her meeting my family—sent an unexpected warmth through my chest. But first, we had to survive working this case together.

“Tank.” Dragon’s voice stopped me as I reached the command center’s exit. When I turned, she was close enough for me to see the flecks of green in her eyes.

“We need to establish ground rules,” she said, her voice carrying an undertone I didn’t remember hearing before.

“Sure.”

Her gaze held mine longer than necessary. “What we’re about to undertake will require close cooperation. I need to know we can maintain professional boundaries while working together.”

I nodded, recognizing she’d phrased it as a mutual concern rather than a warning. “Understood. Mission first.”

As she walked away, I remained in the hallway, watching the confident stride that had first drawn my attention.

This case was going to test our capabilities more than any other in recent memory. The stakes were enormous—one point two billion dollars in delayed military contracts and American forces potentially going into harm’s way without the equipment they’d been promised.

As I packed my go bag, I wondered if this assignment would prove Dragon and I could work as partners or confirm that the most intriguing woman I’d ever met was going to be a distraction I couldn’t afford.