Page 24 of Code Name: Tank (K19 Sentinel Cyber #4)

TANK

“‘ T rust + leverage = betrayal without choice.’ What the hell does that mean?” Alice asked when Dragon showed her what she’d found. “Nice photo of you, by the way. Him, not so much.” She set the picture on the desk.

“I have no idea what it means,” Dragon responded.

“Where did you get it?” Atticus asked, walking over to look at it when I picked it up. “I guess fingerprinting is out of the question.” His glare made me realize I’d just compromised the evidence.

“To answer your question, I was about to make coffee, and it was sitting in front of the beans. I don’t remember the last time I opened that cupboard. It could’ve been days,” Dragon said, repeating much of what she’d told me.

“There’s one way to find out who might’ve gone in there to leave it for you,” Alice said, pulling up the security camera footage.

“Divide and conquer?” Atticus asked.

“Yep, it’s on the server.”

Alice wrote dates on four pieces of paper, then handed three to each of us. “That’s your assignment, and before you ask why I gave myself one, if you’re ever pregnant, you’ll know.”

For the next hour, we methodically went through the security footage from the past week. Alice’s system was thorough, and the cameras around Whisper Point had decent coverage of the main approaches.

“Got something,” Atticus called out. “Friday evening, around twenty-two hundred hours, a figure approaches Whisper Point. He’s wearing a hoodie and keeps his head down.”

Dragon moved to look over his shoulder. “That’s right after we had dinner with Hartwell. Tank and I left for Granite Ridge around that time.”

“He goes straight to your front door,” Alice observed, enhancing the image. “Uses a key or picks the lock—hard to tell from this angle. He’s inside for maybe two minutes, then leaves the same way.”

“Can you make out any identifying features?” I asked, not liking what I was seeing.

Dragon studied the screen. “No, but I know it’s Flint.”

“You’re sure?” Admiral asked.

“Yes,” she said without any hesitation. “Then he vanishes less than two hours later.”

“So he left the photo, knowing he was about to disappear,” I said. “Like he was trying to warn you before it was too late.”

Admiral joined our discussion. “What are you thinking about this message? ‘Trust + leverage = betrayal without choice’?”

“It sounds like someone being forced to do something they don’t want to do,” Alice said, readjusting the pillow near the small of her back on the chair. “Someone with access being coerced.”

“But who?” Atticus asked. “And coerced how?”

Dragon stared at the photograph. “Flint spoke in riddles all the fucking time. Drove me crazy. He’s pointing me toward something specific.”

“The fund diversions,” I said. “Someone with legitimate access to the accounts.”

Dragon scowled. “Exactly. But why leave a cryptic message? Why not just say it directly?”

“Maybe he couldn’t,” Alice suggested. “Maybe he was already in danger when he left this.”

We spent the rest of the day trying to apply Flint’s message to anything we’d learned about the authorization patterns from the defense contractors.

Alice and Tex continued analyzing the financial data, looking for signs of coercion rather than corruption.

Atticus coordinated with local authorities, but Flint’s trail had gone completely cold.

“I keep coming back to the word ‘leverage,’” Dragon said the next morning as we walked toward the command center. “What kind of leverage would force someone with high-level access to authorize unauthorized fund transfers?”

“Blackmail,” I said. “Personal information, family threats, or career destruction.”

“Or all of the above.” Dragon’s expression was troubled. “Tank, what if we’ve been looking at this wrong? What if the person authorizing these transfers isn’t the real criminal?”

“A victim instead of a perpetrator.”

“Right. Someone being forced to sign authorizations they don’t want to sign.”

Alice’s pregnancy symptoms had been troubling her over the weekend, requiring her to take more frequent breaks. Admiral’s protective instincts were in overdrive, though he tried to hide it. Later in the afternoon, I found him hovering near her workstation with a cup of ginger tea.

“She’s stronger than both of us combined,” I told him quietly.

“I know,” he said. “Doesn’t make it easier to watch her push through this.”

Dragon had been spending extra time helping Alice with the technical analysis, covering for her when the nausea got too bad. I watched the two of them work together, noting how naturally Dragon had stepped into a supportive role. She was building the family connections she’d never had growing up.

Monday night, as we prepared to head back to our camps, Dragon looked exhausted.

“Still thinking about Flint’s message?” I asked.

“I can’t shake the feeling we’re missing something obvious,” she said. “The answer is right in front of us, but we’re not seeing it.”

“Maybe that’s the point. Maybe Flint wanted us to figure it out gradually, to be absolutely certain before we act.”

Dragon nodded, but I could see the frustration in her eyes. “I just hope he’s safe, wherever he is.”

Since Flint went missing, Dragon and I spent what quiet time we could together, away from the investigation.

We took a long walk around the lake, cooked a simple meal at my camp, and talked about everything except missing operatives and cryptic messages.

But even during our most relaxed moments, I could see her mind working, trying to solve Flint’s puzzle.

“You know what bothers me most?” she said Tuesday evening as we watched the sunset from my dock.

“What’s that?”

“The timing. Flint leaves this message about trust and betrayal, then disappears. Almost like he knew something was about to happen.”

“Or like he was trying to warn you before it was too late.”

Dragon leaned against me. “I keep thinking about everyone who has access to authorization codes. It’s not a long list.”

“Treasury officials, senior DOJ personnel, maybe a few others.”

“People we trust,” Dragon said quietly. “People we’d never suspect.”

Wednesday morning brought news that our inquiries about Flint had hit dead ends. Local authorities had no new leads, the boat had been abandoned and wiped clean, and the vehicle tracks led to a main road where they disappeared into traffic.

“It’s like he just vanished,” Atticus said, frustrated.

“Or like someone made sure he vanished,” Dragon replied.

That afternoon, Alice looked better than she had over the weekend. The ginger tea and crackers seemed to be helping, and she’d managed to keep down a real breakfast.

“Any new insights on our cryptic photographer?” she asked Dragon.

“No, but, ‘betrayal without choice’ suggests someone being forced into a situation,” she responded.

“What if Flint discovered who was being coerced?” I suggested. “What if that’s why he disappeared?”

“Then, we need to figure out what he’s trying to tell us,” said Dragon, her eyes meeting mine.

“Come on, partner. Let’s get busy.”

Atticus snickered, and I punched him. “You’re ridiculous.”

Six days had passed since Flint disappeared before Hartwell’s helicopter touched down at Canada Lake again. The sound of rotor blades on Monday afternoon pulled me from scouring the financials with Dragon.

“That’ll be the secretary,” said Admiral, walking into the command center. “The asshole gave me all of ten minutes notice.” He turned to Dragon. “Sorry.”

“For what?” she asked. “Calling him an asshole? Right now, I agree with you.”

Since we last saw the man, we’d exhausted every lead on Flint’s disappearance.

Waiting to hear what was found on the electronic devices had been intense.

But Dragon and I made the best of it. Trying to leave work at the command center as much as possible when we left for the day.

Of course it always crept in, sometimes from her and sometimes from me.

Then, one of us would laugh, we’d kiss, and attempt to change the subject.

It would be different if we had any leads at all. It was the coming up short every day that was so frustrating.

With each hour that passed without answers, the weight of not knowing Flint’s fate pressed down on all of us.

“I hope he has information about Flint,” Dragon said, squeezing my hand while we waited for him to come inside.

I leaned forward when I thought no one was looking and kissed her cheek. “I know you do. We all do.”

James Hartwell entered the command center, carrying a briefcase.

“Hello, sir. I hope you’ve come bearing some news.”

“We found him. Pierce is being interrogated as we speak.” Hartwell’s expression showed relief, but something in his manner seemed strained.

Dragon’s mouth gaped. “When, James?”

“Pardon?”

“ When did you find him?”

“That’s irrelevant. What matters is that we did.” He opened his briefcase and requested Alice connect his laptop to the display.

When I looked up, I noticed she’d patched Tex in on a secondary screen.

“The data from Pierce’s devices is clear,” Hartwell began. “He was involved in the fund thefts.”

Information flowed across the screen—financial records and messages.

“These files show he was working with foreign contacts,” he continued. “Pierce used his background to target defense contractors.”

Dragon studied the information, and I could see her struggling with what she was seeing. The evidence looked convincing, but I caught the way her brow furrowed—something was bothering her about the timing and presentation.

“How did you track him down?” I asked.

“The investigation led us to him. He’s been moved to a secure location while the inter-agency team continues their work.”

Not an answer, but I’d let it go for now.

Dragon remained silent, but I noticed her jaw tighten. So did Hartwell.

“Piper, I know this is hard. Your history with Pierce makes this personal.”

She nodded, and I could see her internal struggle.