Page 92 of Code Name: Harbor

She glances up and taps a finger on the table. “All right… the entire team is here. Let’s get started.”

Royce doesn’t waste a syllable. “A little before five this morning, the bureau received an anonymous tip through one of our public channels. Ordinarily, that goes in a queue and gets triaged in a day or two, but this one had a piece of secondary detail that our analysts were able to independently corroborate within the hour, which moved it to the front of the line.” She presses a button and the smart TV behind her flares with a chart of the South Sound. “The tip says Mikhail Sokolov is personally overseeing a transfer tonight and will be off-loading at this dock.”

My pulse picks up. If this is legit, this could be the moment where we take Voronin down.

“The corroborating detail?” Cole asks.

“A vessel registration that matches a hull our maritime analysts have flagged twice this year, repositioning north yesterday afternoon consistent with a Canadian pickup window between midnight and four a.m. tonight.” Royce lets that sit. “It’s highly actionable, so we’re moving on it.”

She walks us through the plan and everyone scribbles notes, even though we’ll have a printed version handed to us before we walk out the door.

In essence, the bureau will run the operation as a joint task force with two Coast Guard cutters and support from Jameson.

Our main role will be intelligence, but we’re also providing tactical support.

Royce’s gaze moves around the table. “Malik… you’ll run coordination from a mobile command post staged a half mile inland. Reid… you’ll lead a Jameson tactical element embedded with our ground team at the dock, and Cole, you’ll liaise between Malik’s command post and my bureau command, keeping the two halves of the operation speaking the same language in real time so nobody crosses a wire when the shooting starts. Wright and Fanasick, run perimeter and contain the land routes out.”

Excitement rushes through me.

This is it.

This is where Mikhail and Voronin go down, Finn walks away from smuggling and our life together begins.

“The objective,” Royce continues, “is the women first. We don’t move until they’re off the boat and clear of the water, because the second anyone realizes it’s a trap, the easiest way to destroy evidence is to put it back in the strait. Once they’re on the dock, we close. We take Mikhail Sokolov alive because he’s the thread that pulls Voronin.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “I repeat, we need this man alive as he’s our best shot to take Voronin down.”

The room is quiet as everyone processes. It’s a good plan with solid intelligence. I’m proud to be a part of this team.

I clear my throat and raise my hand. “And what’s my role? Where would you like me?”

Malik doesn’t even look up from his pad when he answers, “You’re not on this one.”

The words feel like a sharp slap to my face. “Excuse me?”

Now he looks up. “You’re not on this, Josie. You’re here this morning to help us finalize the analysis and the dock logistics, but tonight you’re home behind locked doors.”

“Is this because I’m a woman?” I can’t help but ask, knowing it’s lame and that I’ve already tried this tack once without success.

The look Malik gives me has my face flaming red. “You really going there again?” he deadpans.

“Malik—”

“You built half of the intel we’re relying on and nobody’s diminishing that. But you’re a witness in this case and you must remain safe. I shouldn’t have to remind you that you’re the tie between Sokolov and Voronin.”

I understand that but it’s not good enough for me to let this go. This is the endgame, and I should be a part of it. “I’m the lead intelligence analyst on this case. I know the approach corridors, I know the off-load patterns, I can read that water in real time from the command post and feed Reid’s team things they won’t see coming—”

“Every word of that is true,” Royce says, taking over the argument on behalf of Malik. “And it changes nothing. You are the single-most important piece of this case right now, and if anything happens to you, the case doesn’t get harder, it ends. There’s no version of this where I put the keystone of a two-year federal investigation in proximity to the exact men who already tried to kill her once.”

“From the command post, then. Inland. A half mile back, you said. I sit next to you with a headset—”

“No.”

My eyes turn to my boss. “Malik—”

“No, Josie.” His voice doesn’t rise. It doesn’t have to. “I hear you. I know what it costs you to sit this out, but you’re not going. That’s the end of it.”

“He’s right,” Royce says, and I’m surprised by the soft tone of empathy in such a hard-ass woman. “I’ve lost people I couldn’t afford to lose on this one. I’m not adding you to that list. Not when you’re the piece that finally makes it work. Sit this one out, Ms. McAdams. Let us bring it home for you.”

And there it is. The thing that takes the fight out of me. Not Malik’s authority but rather Royce’s loss, because it makes me remember the people I lost when I was with the NSA. I remember that pain and I know I can’t add to Malik’s plate.