“Director Morgan.” Greenlee’s tone had gone from tired and annoyed to military-grade-professional. “Good evening, sir.”
“Good evening.” Morgan’s resonant voice reminded Sam of James Earl Jones. “To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”
“It’s Agent Greenlee, sir. We spoke via email last night. I’m the one assigned to Agent Beacham’s case.”
“I know Agent Beacham. And I’ve heard what she’s been accused of. But I haven’t communicated with anyone on her case, last night or any other time.”
All three Feds frowned, and Hannah jumped in. “I know where the confusion lies, Director Morgan. If you’ll bear with me for a few minutes, I’d like to fill you and the agents here”—she inclined her head to include the Feds sitting opposite them—“in on what’s been going on.”
“And who are you?” Morgan arched one steel-gray eyebrow.
“My name is Hannah Blue. I work in the cybercrimes division of the D.O.D. My friend Sam brought me in to do some…um…online snooping in an effort to clear Agent Beacham’s name.”
Sam felt the director’s dark eyes focus on his image on the screen. “And Sam, you are…?”
It was clear the director’s patience was running thin, so Sam didn’t prevaricate. “I’m Sergeant Samuel Haywood, director. I work for a small, independent defense firm here in Chicago. And one of my teammates, Hunter Jackson, was partnered with Agent Beacham a few years back on an unrelated case. When she found herself in a whole lotta trouble a couple hours outside of town, Major Jackson was the first person she called to help her out of the jam.”
“Iknewthis place was more than a custom motorcycle shop.” Greenlee pointed a finger at Sam and then waved his hand to indicate the entirety of the factory building.
“Yes, yes.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Your powers of observation are very keen.”
Greenlee opened his mouth to come back with something acerbic. But Eliza jumped in before he could get a word out. “And my name is Eliza Meadows, sir. I work with Sam here at Black Knights Incorporated as support staff.”
“Meadows?” The director’s forehead formed half a dozen wrinkles, making him even more dour-looking. “Are you related to—”
“Yes, sir. I am,” Eliza was quick to cut him off, not wanting the others to know her connection to the chief of staff because that would put the Black Knights just asmidgetoo close to the president when it came to the game of seven degrees of separation. “And I hope that reassures you the information Miss Blue is about to reveal can be trusted.”
When Morgan pursed his mouth and nodded his acquiescence, Hannah took that as her cue to begin explaining the series of events as she knew them, starting with Grace Beacham’s investigation into the Indiana troll farm and ending with Grace’s problem securing subpoenas and her suspicion that someone above her paygrade was working as a double agent and throwing up roadblocks in her and her partner’s path.
“Wait a minute.” Morgan lifted a wide-palmed hand. “Her reports to me mentioned nothing about subpoenas.”
“I know.” Sam nodded. “If you’ll hang with us a little longer, sir, we’ll tell you why that is.”
Hannah went on to explain how Grace had found her partner dead from a wound inflicted by her own blade, and how she’d received the mysterious text warning her that Orpheus was on her six. And then she dropped her first bomb. “I was able to make contact with the sender of that text.”
“We’ve had techs trying to trace that number all day,” Greenlee grumbled. “How is ityouwere able to find Agent’s Beacham’s mysterious guardian angel so quickly?”
“Skills.” Hannah pretended to buff her fingernails on her shirt. Then she grew serious. “But honestly, there was a little bit of luck involved too.” She waved a hand, suddenly looking annoyed that she’d been led off track. “The point is,Kerberosis the group that warned Agent Beacham.” The name rolled off her tongue like a prayer, all hushed and reverent.
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” The director raised an imperious eyebrow.
She was quick to school the gathered group on Kerberos and their self-assigned role as the internet’s watchdogs-slash-vigilantes.
“Right.” Agent Greenlee nodded. “I’ve heard of them. But what are they doing tangled up in this?”
“Not sure.” Hannah shook her head. “But it’s a good thing this situation caught their attention. Because not only did they warn Agent Beacham in time to escape the assassin, but they helped point me in the right direction to unmask the double agent.”
Her hands jumped to the keyboard and Sam watched her bring up a program in a second window. He had just enough time to recognize the email exchanges between Grace and the director paired side by side with thesecondset of emails that’d been fudged by the double agent before she hit send.
He could tell when the rest of the group had access to the emails by the way everyone’s eyes started moving side to side as they read their screens.
Hannah gave them about thirty seconds to get a feel for the information before she said, “As you can see, Agent Beacham’s reports weren’t making it to you, Director Morgan. At least not in their entirety. Additionally, the responses she thought she was getting from you weren’t from you at all. There’s been a middleman manipulating your correspondence, sir.”
“Who?” Director Morgan’s expression had gone rock-hard. “Wait. Before you answer that, how thehelldid you get your hands on these emails?”
Hannah had the grace to look chagrined. “Kerberos gave me a back door into the FBI’s servers.”
“Jesus tapdancing Christ, those sonsofbitches are a menace,” Greenlee snarled. Then he winced. “Sorry for the language, Director Morgan.”
