PART 13;

And it was, wasn’t it? Right up until two nights ago when you decided to step back into the game. I fixed a server problem. That’s not the game. You exposed a sophisticated intelligence operation embedded in a major tech company. You demonstrated capabilities that a lot of people would prefer stayed forgotten. That’s absolutely the game. Whether you want it to be or not.

Noah’s grip tightened on the phone. What do you want? To give you a warning, David Brennan wasn’t working alone, and he wasn’t working for corporate competitors. The people backing him have resources that make Cross look like a lemonade stand. They’re going to be very interested in the man who dismantled 18 months of careful infiltration in one evening.

Then they can be interested from a distance. I’m not going back to that life. You think you have a choice, Noah? You’ve always been brilliant, but occasionally naive. You put yourself on the map. You demonstrated value. People who trade invaluable assets don’t just let them walk away because they want to play house with their daughter.

The mention of Sarah sent rage through Noah’s careful control. If anyone touches my daughter, relax. Nobody’s threatening your kid. I’m trying to help you. Believe it or not, the people behind Brennan are called the Covenant. They’re a collective of intelligence brokers. Ex agency, ex-military. the kind of people who know how wars actually work and who’s really pulling the strings.

They sell information to the highest bidder regardless of nationality or ideology. And they’re very unhappy that you’ve exposed their operation. Then they shouldn’t have gotten caught. Noah, I’m serious. These aren’t amateurs. They’ve been operating for a decade without anyone getting close enough to identify them. And now you’ve cost them millions in lost revenue and compromised one of their assets. They’re going to respond.

Let them try. That’s exactly what I’m afraid you’ll say. Victoria sighed. Listen, I know you left the service because of Melissa. I know you wanted a clean break, a normal life for Sarah. I respect that. But the world doesn’t stop having problems just because you decided to stop solving them.

And right now, whether you like it or not, you’re in the middle of something that’s going to require your old skills. I don’t work for you anymore, Colonel. I’m not asking you to work for me. I’m asking you to be smart. Watch your back. Keep your daughter safe. And if things get complicated, when they get complicated, remember that you’re not alone.

There are people who owe you favors from the old days. People who remember what you did in places that officially don’t exist. Use them if you need to. I don’t want their help. Pride’s going to get you killed, Captain. I’m not a captain anymore. You’ll always be a captain. That’s not rank. That’s character. You don’t stop being who you are just because you change your uniform.

Victoria’s voice softened slightly. Take care of yourself, Noah, and tell that daughter of yours that there are people in this world who are grateful her father kept them alive long enough to have families of their own. The line went dead. Noah stood in the empty office, phone in hand, trying to control the trembling in his fingers.

The Covenant. He’d heard rumors during his service, whispers about a group that operated above national interests, selling secrets to whoever paid the most. He’d always assumed they were intelligence community legend, the kind of boogeyman story people told to justify their own paranoia. Apparently not.

He took several deep breaths, forced his hands steady, and walked back to find Marcus. The conference room was set up exactly as promised. Three monitors, system access terminals, secure workstation. Marcus had even brought coffee, the good kind, from the executive break room. Sorry about that, Noah said. Where were we? Security audit.

But actually, Evelyn’s meeting just ended. She wants to see you in her office now. Yeah, she seemed pretty insistent. Noah followed Marcus down the hall to Evelyn’s corner office. The door was open. She sat behind her desk, phone pressed to her ear, gesturing sharply as she spoke. When she saw Noah, she held up one finger. Wait.

And finished her conversation. I don’t care what the board thinks, Jeffrey. We’re not postponing the security overhaul just because it’s going to inconvenience people. What happened two nights ago should never happen again. And if that means everyone in this building has to get used to new protocols, so be it.

She listened for a moment, then cut him off. No, no more discussion. This is happening. Goodbye. She hung up, rubbed her temples, and looked at Noah. Please tell me you have good news. I have an accurate assessment of your security situation. Whether that’s good news depends on your tolerance for bad news. That bad? Worse than you think.

Better than it could be if we move fast. Noah sat down without being invited. You need a complete security overhaul, physical and digital, new protocols for employee access, real-time monitoring of all entry points, segmented network architecture to prevent lateral movement if someone breaches the perimeter. It’s going to be expensive, disruptive, and unpopular.

How expensive? Noah named a figure that made Evelyn wse. That’s more than our entire quarterly security budget. then increase the budget because right now you’re one motivated insider away from losing everything again. David Brennan wasn’t sophisticated. He just exploited weaknesses that nobody was paying attention to.

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