Prologue

Here we are again, but…how did we get here exactly?

I’ve had a really strange eight months.

If you already know what I’ve been up to, I won’t be offended if you don’t want to hear my take on what’s happened. Oh, sorry, who am I? I’m Lexie Martin. I’m an intelligence analyst, and I also work for Halcyon Division, which is an important part of the whys and hows of how I got to this point in my life. But because nobody except Halcyon knows who Halcyon is, I’ll brief you. Halcyon Division works as a very secret system of checks and balances for the government, like a hidden antivirus making sure the people in charge aren’t working against the country’s best interests.

Late last year, I received intelligence—let’s call it the Kunduz Intelligence—that powerful people didn’t want investigated. Halcyon told me to hide so I could figure it out. I did figure it out, and I also figured out I was head-over-heels into Sophia Flores, the woman I’d just started dating, who I’d brought along with me on my intelligence-figuring-out road trip as a kind of security blanket.

And that intelligence? It proved the vice president was involved with Russia, in the bad, I’m-selling-American-secrets-to-the-enemy way. Not that there’s a good way to be involved with Russia, especially not when you’re the VP. Halcyon “convinced” him to resign, with the president’s blessing and also the president’s denial of all knowledge about his VP’s extracurricular activities. And instead of showing an ounce of remorse for picking such a shitty ally, the president blamed me for the fact he’d lost his political BFF, because I’d been the one who’d received the intelligence. And he made it very clear that he didn’t like me.

If I liked the president and craved his approval, I’d be bothered. But I don’t, so I wasn’t. The problem with being hated by the president is that he has the power to be a complete dick to you. And he was. I returned to work just in time for him to reassign me overseas for six months as punishment. What was my new essential and vital assignment? To receive intelligence and investigate it—kindergarten stuff that so many others could do; that I could do while safe at home in the States.

I said thanks but no thanks, and was reminded that technically I’d been a Very Bad Girl and it was either accept this reassignment overseas, or accept a reassignment to jail.

No brainer, right?

My first favorite part of the new assignment was packing up the comfortable, stable life I was building with Sophia to work in the country where six years earlier I’d been held hostage and stabbed multiple times. My second favorite part was how they gave me a partner: Jeffrey Burton, the guy who’d debriefed me after the Kunduz Intelligence adventure. Talk about mind games.

Long story short—it sucked. I missed Sophia. She missed me. And to add a fun little twist, I discovered Elaheh, a woman I knew (and when I say knew, I mean that I’d been sleeping with) from my last assignment in the region, was now a terrorist. Did not see that one coming.

Another thing I didn’t see coming was Sophia dropping a bombshell on me a few months into my overseas assignment, when she told me the relationship I thought was kind of perfect—except for the me being away working for six months thing—wasn’t working for her and she wanted to break up. Talk about blindsided. If you’ve ever wondered what it’d be like to get dumped during an unexpected long-distance portion of your relationship—your relationship that you’d thought was pretty good—I can say with certainty that it’s fucking awful.

Adding to the fucking awful part of it was that I wasn’t sure if she really didn’t want to be with me, or if someone, say a president with a vendetta, had threatened her and forced her to do it to punish me even more. Yeah I know, I made it all about me. But being in a terrorist hotbed tends to make one a little selfish and self-absorbed.

Once I realized Sophia wasn’t joking, I did what I do best—shove it down for later and bury myself in work. Unfortunately, that work involved meeting with my now-terrorist ex-(or, with Sophia gone, is that technically my ex-ex?)-sleeping-with-regularly person and teasing out information about her other life while pretending I wasn’t trying to do just that. It didn’t go so well, but we still managed to break down part of her little terrorist team. Go, us.

I thought my pointless assignment would end with a whimper. But as it turns out, it ended with a bang when I barely escaped being killed in a suicide bomb attack. The only reason I’m still alive is because Jeffrey noticed something was wrong, dragged me out of there, and saved my life. Seconds after I’d left the building, Elaheh blew up a café she knew I frequented, killing herself and most of the occupants inside. She almost murdered me. I don’t know if her timing was intentional or not, and I’m still trying to unpack how I feel about that whole mess.

All in all, the assignment left me with more minuses than pluses. But, it turns out Jeffrey wasn’t a bad guy—I lost a girlfriend, but gained a trustworthy friend.

By the time I came home, I’d accepted Sophia’s decision and had worked my way through all stages of post-separation emotions to a point where I could say I’d made peace with it and moved on. Then I found a cryptic note from her hidden in a pocket of one of my work suits. It led me to a book blurb about a woman sacrificing happiness to save her family and kingdom, confirming my suspicions that Sophia had broken up with me because someone “guided” her toward that, not because she didn’t want our relationship.

I went back to work and met the new head of the agency. And, color me shocked, the new agency director was Lennon.

A.k.a the head of Halcyon Division.

A.k.a (unbeknownst to me until that moment) my father’s best friend from when I was a child.

So, yeah. Strange. And confusing. But I’m hoping it’ll get less strange and confusing from now on…

Chapter One

I guess it runs in the family

I was pretty sure my internal “What the actual fuck is going on here?” could be heard from Mars.

As I stared at the newly appointed agency director, I wondered how exactly I’d ended up in this position. Every time I thought things couldn’t get weirder, or worse, or harder, they did. I really needed to stop tempting fate by thinking that.

I leaned back in the chair I’d collapsed into, hoping feigning relaxation would result in some actual relaxation. “So, should I call you Lennon? Or Mr. Lennon, or Uncle Michael, or Michael, or…what?” He wasn’t my uncle by blood, but as a kid I’d always called him Uncle Michael, probably because he and my father were best friends, and he was the closest thing I’d have to an uncle with both my parents being only children.

I was still trying to wrap my head around that revelation. Lennon, the man I’d never met but had spoken to countless times in his role as head of Halcyon Division, was actually my father’s good friend, and was also now the head of the agency for which I worked. Talk about coming out of left field.

With far more grace than I’d shown, Lennon sat down across from me at his ornate mahogany desk. His smile was both benevolent and condescending, as if he’d expected me to ask that inane question. “Lennon if we’re talking about Halcyon business. Mr. Lennon if we’re discussing agency business.” No mention of anything involving his first name. So we’re super professional. Got it. I wasn’t bothered—calling him “Uncle Michael” as an adult felt strange, almost uncomfortable, as did calling him that when my dad wasn’t around. Actually, now that I thought about it, calling him Uncle Anything when we weren’t actually related was strange, but that’s how Dad had always referred to him and it’d stuck.

I’d had enough of the inside-out, upside-down bullshit that had been thrown at me in the last eight months, and decided to cut right to the core and ask the questions I wanted answered. “How did you get installed as the new director of the agency?” It felt a little off to me, almost a little too convenient. Or maybe I was just incredibly cynical and suspicious after six months in a hostile environment as punishment by the government for doing my job. “And when?”

Lennon’s sigh was theatrically over-the-top, as if he couldn’t believe I’d dare to question his qualifications. But given I knew absolutely nothing about him except for his name and job, I thought it was a fair question. “Because I am eminently qualified for this role. I have the ability to ensure the strength and security of the agency, especially as it pertains to the Intelligence Community’s relationship with Halcyon. As to when, it was very last-minute. I only accepted the role over the weekend.”

“What about Halcyon Division? Who’s running it now that you’re heading up this agency?” Leaving Halcyon unhelmed, or inadequately helmed, could be disastrous.

“I am,” Lennon said firmly. “If it becomes apparent that I cannot execute both roles to the standards required of both the agency and Halcyon, then someone capable will take over Halcyon.” The unspoken “but that’s unlikely” was woven into his statement.

“Will you leave Halcyon if you step down as the…” I had to think hard on the word I wanted. I’d always just called Lennon my boss—one of my bosses—but I honestly didn’t know his official title at Halcyon. After an eternal thinking pause, I finally just said, “Leader?”

“No. I would remain on the leadership team, providing relevant consulting as needed, just no longer as the head of the Division.”

He rested his hands on top of his desk, palms down. He had strong, masculine hands, but the skin seemed almost incongruously soft and his nails were manicured. It was so weird seeing him, Lennon, in person like this and observing all these human things, things that I’d never paid any attention to as a child. His eyes were hazel-ish, piercing and serious. He wore his blondish-brown hair with a militant side part. He didn’t smile much. “But enough about me, Alexandra. We’ll have ample time to talk about my relocation. How are you? You’ve had quite an experience these past eight months.”

Quite an experience… That was one way to put it. Apparently Lennon was into understatements.

Lennon’s expectant stare prompted me to stop thinking and start answering. “I’ve never been better,” I lied.

The slight lift of his eyebrow told me he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t push. Feeling suddenly antsy, likely due to his probing, I stood up and walked to the wall where, amongst a group of framed pictures, hung a photo of him with my father. I tried so hard to recall any interactions I’d had with Lennon, this man my dad had said was his best friend, but nothing came to mind. He was an intermittent shadow hovering in the periphery of my childhood.

I studied the other photos, which were mostly Lennon with important government figures, and then one incongruous one of him fly fishing, before I returned to the photo of him and my dad. Dad looked to be in his fifties, so it was likely taken in the early or mid-2000s, at an indeterminate location. Both men were in suits, standing close in a way that suggested they’d been instructed to pose. The photograph had captured a moment of levity and they were leaning in toward each other like one of them had whispered something that made them both laugh.

My dad had a dry, biting wit and if you asked me to list his character traits, “humor” would be quite low on the list. I had to scramble to find memories that were of him laughing, and the disconnect between this image and the one in my head of my father was discomforting. It made me realize that parents have whole lives and are whole people before they have kids. And that made me feel weird, especially now that my parents were dead.

That thought blossomed and one of the many things that had been niggling since I’d first seen Lennon finally hit me. I looked over my shoulder, finding Lennon still at his desk, watching me. “You weren’t at my parents’ memorial service.” Dad hadn’t mentioned his friend “Uncle” Michael in years but it hadn’t registered because not mentioning something wasn’t unusual for my father, especially not anything personal. Still, you’d think your supposed best or even good friend would come to your funeral.

Lennon’s expression was a curious mix of aloofness and regret. “No, unfortunately I was detained out of the country on Halcyon business and couldn’t return in time. Did you get my condolence card and flowers?”

Frowning, I admitted, “I…honestly don’t remember.” There had been so much happening after my parents died in a light-aircraft crash in the middle of 2021, so many cards from people I didn’t know, and well-wishers at the service that I’d lost track. “It was all a blur.”

“I can understand that, and I am very sorry I couldn’t be there. Why don’t you have a seat, Alexandra,” Lennon offered, gesturing across the desk to the chair I’d occupied before.

Everyone knew “have a seat” was code for “I’m about to tell you something you won’t like.” I’d heard so many things already that I didn’t like and had never needed to sit down for any of them. I turned around, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m fine standing, thanks. Any chance we’ll ever get to that thing you’ve been dangling over my head since the Kunduz Intelligence? My ‘importance’?” If I prodded him about it, maybe I’d get thrown a bone.

At first it’d been interesting, exciting even, to be told I was so irreplaceable that they would bend unbendable rules for me. That I would be freed instead of imprisoned, that my security clearance would be returned, despite what I’d done. Then it became tedious, having it held just out of my reach like a kid taunting that they knew something I didn’t but that they’d tell me soon. Now…well, now I just wanted to know what was going on so I could move forward without this carrot Halcyon was dangling in front of me.

Lennon nodded briskly. “I suppose that’s one way of framing it.” He gave me a look that told me he thought I’d made a mistake not taking him up on the sitting, but he didn’t offer again. Instead, he just came right out and told me, “Your father wasn’t just a diplomat, Alexandra. He was also an undercover American intelligence officer. His service for this country was extensive. He obtained intelligence from places most thought inaccessible, from people thought untouchable, in a career spanning over forty years.”

Um…

My legs quit in shock at Lennon’s revelation. “You know,” I said breathily, “I might sit down after all.” I fumbled my way back to the chair, my shaking legs grateful when I sat heavily. A spy? A legit spy? What the—? I finally managed to stop my spinning thoughts for long enough to exclaim, “You are shitting me.”

“I assure you I’m not. Your father was undercover for most of his working life,” Lennon said steadily. “And he had been doing the most important work—compiling dossiers of all foreign operatives working in this country.”

Foreign operatives. I’d thought the news my dad was an undercover intelligence officer was huge, but this new information smothered that. “Foreign operatives in the US?” My thoughts went back and forth, spinning over what he’d just told me, not settling on any one thing.

“Yes. Back then, and still now.”

I couldn’t help the incredulity that seeped into my tone. “Foreign operatives in our country? Really?” There’d been a number of foreign operatives found and weeded out over the years, and I was fairly confident there weren’t any more lurking in the shadows—our counterintelligence was almost unbeatable. As soon as I thought it, I realized my arrogance and naivety. Hadn’t I recently worked with intelligence that placed our ex-vice president, Randolf Berenson, in Russia’s pockets? He wasn’t a foreign operative, but he’d definitely been working with a foreign entity. If that had happened under our noses… Oh fuck.

“Yes, really. Your father’s intelligence has provided the basis for removing most of the operatives to date.”

“Who continued the work after he died?”

“Nobody. But, before his death, he gave the hard drive containing his life’s work to me for safekeeping. I believe that, among other things, it contains the dossiers of the foreign operatives we haven’t managed to uncover yet.”

Interesting. That stopped my frenetic thoughts. I wondered why Dad hadn’t passed it to his handler at the agency. I guess Lennon was a more trusted friend, who obviously worked in intelligence and had clearance. Maybe Dad suspected his handler was sideways. Whatever, the reason didn’t matter. “Okay. And what does that have to do with me? Are you going to make me work my dad’s old cases?” I asked grumpily. I wasn’t a spy. I didn’t want to be a spy. That sounded like another punishment, and I was so done with being punished. I shook my hands out. “Sorry, I’m just trying to process this.”

“I know this must be shocking,” he said soothingly. “But let me assure you that revealing the truth about your father isn’t for shock value, Alexandra.”

“Then what value is it for?”

“Because we need you.”

I stared at him and hoped I didn’t look as skeptical as I felt. “For what?”

“The hard drive is encrypted with a password. And despite working on decrypting it for over a year, we have been unable to break it.” Lennon leaned back in his chair. “Alexandra, it’s possible you may know the password.”

“Me?” It came out embarrassingly squeaky. Blame shock. It wasn’t every day you were told your dad was an undercover intelligence officer and that he’d spent most of his diplomatic career gathering intelligence on foreign operatives hiding in our country. “How could I possibly know the password? Are you sure?”

“No, we’re not sure. But all our attempts to access the data have failed, so we need to try something new.” Lennon smiled. “Your father compiled this intelligence. He knew your job and thought very highly of your personal and professional skills. It’s not outside the realm of possibility that he gave the key to you as a safeguard of sorts. Isn’t that a logical conclusion?”

“I…yes, I suppose so, but it still makes no sense,” I said, suddenly so wired I couldn’t stand being seated anymore. I paced back and forth in front of his desk. “I didn’t even know about this hard drive until a minute ago, so how could he have given me the password?” Frowning, I added, “Nor did he give me anything that could be used to store an encryption key.” And there had been nothing in my father’s personal effects that even seemed remotely like it could be a key. No external computer media, no secret diaries with weird scribbles, no hidden compartments in desks.

Lennon was emphatic. “He must have told you what it is, either overtly or subtly.”

My laugh burst out so fast, I almost choked on it. “He definitely did not. My father never shared anything personal with me, as evidenced by the fact I only just found out he was actually an intel officer. What do you think he did? That one night as he was tucking me into bed, he just casually said ‘Daddy’s working on something very important so here’s a password for you to remember for the next thirty years,’ and that’s what I’ve done?” I tapped my temple. “Just kept it up here, waiting for you to ask me for it?” What a ludicrous notion.

“There’s no need to be facetious, Alexandra.”

Oh there was every reason. I ignored everything Lennon had said so far to ask an important question. “Do you think my mom knew what my father really did?” I didn’t know why I was so bothered by the thought that she’d been duped too—it’s not like she would have told me, even if she’d known.

“It’s doubtful. Your mother would have just thought she was a diplomat’s wife. A diplomat is the perfect cover for an undercover operative, and he would have been functioning well under that guise. Your father was a very good diplomat.”

“Why didn’t you approach me about this hard drive before if it’s so important?” And if my dad had given it to Lennon, shouldn’t he have told him how to access it? Unless he assumed he had more time and was planning on passing it along separately like a good spy not keeping all their eggs in one basket. Most people probably don’t assume they’re going to die in a light-plane crash.

“Your parents died, Alexandra,” he said gently. “It didn’t seem particularly kind to badger you about this. And, we’ve been trying, since your parents’ death, to brute-force the encryption. But, as I said, we’ve had no success. It’s time to stop messing around. Accessing this information is a pressing issue, as I’m sure you can appreciate.”

“Right. I know I don’t want foreign operatives moving freely through our country, fucking with things they shouldn’t.”

An expression of distaste moved over his face the moment I said “fucking.” Interesting. Given I’d never had a face-to-face conversation with him, I had no idea he had an aversion to expletives. Unfortunate for him, given how often I’d used expletives during our phone conversations over the years. “None of us want that,” he said firmly. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how important this is, not only to the security of our country, but that of our allies as well.”

Oh, no, I got that part. “Was my dad Halcyon?”

“No. He knew of it, and knew you were Halcyon. We asked him to join, but he declined. But, he suggested you for the Division.”

“Why?”

“Because he knew you’d be excellent at this work. And you are.”

I didn’t know why, but the revelation that my dad may have used his friendship with Lennon to get me into Halcyon made me feel sick. “Has my entire working life just been manipulation?”

“No. Halcyon knew you had the qualities of an excellent analyst, and that’s the only reason you were offered the role. Your father and I were very close, but he had nothing to do with Halcyon, so you may rest assured that nepotism had nothing to do with your recruitment.”

I sat back down, slumping into the chair. “This is…a lot to work through. I’ve only been home a week and thought my life might get back to some semblance of normal.” Whatever my next version of normal was.

“I understand. But I need you to process it. This is your father’s life’s work, Alexandra. There’s rot, hidden deep. We’re going to find the core of that rot and all the branches spreading from it, and we’re going to cut it out so we can rebuild something the country, the world, has faith in.” Good speech. I’d vote for him. Lennon leaned forward. “But to do that, I need your father’s intelligence, which means I need you to figure out the password.”

“Why isn’t brute-forcing working?” I didn’t know much about the inner workings of computers, but surely the country’s best computer people could figure it out. Hackers hacked people’s passwords all the time.

“Brute-forcing is just running through infinite possibilities, hoping one of them works. We do not have infinite time.” Lennon sighed. “There is also the issue of security. This is not something I want too many eyes upon, so I have limited who can work with it.”

“So I’m just supposed to do…what? Think really hard until it comes to me?”

“Yes. As well as looking at everything we have from your father’s hard-copy files to see if something triggers a memory or possibly leads you to where he may have hidden the code. Perhaps he gave you something that could lead you to it. You need to approach this from every angle, Alexandra.”

Thanks for telling me how to do my job. “Will this be my sole focus, or do I have to work on it in my free time around my agency work?” Because if that was the case, I was going to insist Halcyon put in some sort of overtime clause into my contract.

“Your sole focus,” he said immediately, firmly.

“And is this an agency task, or a Halcyon task?”

“Technically Halcyon, but you will be operating under the agency umbrella for security and ease of access to your father’s files.” His eyes softened at the edges. “I know this is a lot to take in. And a huge burden to put upon you. But your loyalty to Halcyon and the agency is not going unnoticed, Alexandra.”

Great?

The fact I was apparently pleasing my bosses didn’t change the fact I’d received yet another assignment where I had no choice about whether I accepted it. But…maybe something like this was exactly what I needed to reset my life after the past eight months of mental, physical, and emotional highs and lows. “Okay, obviously I’m in. But I’m going to need a lot of resources.”

“Whatever you need, it will be made available to you.”

“Does Derek know?” Derek Wood, my agency boss and another Halcyon agent, was clued in on almost everything. “About my dad, and this hard drive, I mean.”

“Yes. You’ll meet with him today to discuss a cover story for why you’ve been moved to another agency team.”

“Again,” I pointed out. My workmates were going to think I was a lunatic or very special. I was going to push the “special” angle. Leaving for a few weeks because of the Kunduz Intelligence, coming back for a month, leaving for six months on the president’s shitty reassignment, coming back for…a day, then moving to yet another team. “I’ll need a private space to work, obviously. And I need a secure laptop and a bunch of other things. I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve made a list of necessary equipment.”

“We can do that. Obviously the laptop will have to remain offline, even from the internal agency network. I can’t risk anyone with access to the network seeing this.”

“Sure. I’ll just go out to my car and get my phone from its lockbox in the trunk every time I need to Google something,” I said dryly. “I think I’ll also need a team, or an assistant or something, someone with the clearance to help me.” Lennon nodded, so I decided to go all-in. “I want Jeffrey Burton.” At his raised eyebrows, I elaborated, “I trust him, and I trust his ability to not only help with the decryption but with obtaining anything I might need to move forward.”

Jeffrey was going to owe me for keeping him employed. As a contractor with a wide skill set and clearance to work just about anywhere, I knew he had the luxury of picking and choosing jobs. But he’d also told me Halcyon paid extremely well, so why not offer him another well-paying assignment? I owed him for keeping me alive, so I supposed my suggesting him for another job, one with no physical danger, was a fair trade, maybe skewed slightly in his favor.

Lennon nodded once, briskly. “Consider it done. I’ll find an office in this building for you. And I trust you to brief Burton on what you think he needs to know.”

Oh, he’d need to know everything. “Good. That means I can come into my usual office to socialize with my team, or everyone is going to get suspicious about how much time I’ve been away and why I’ve suddenly got another new thing in a new location to do.”

“That sounds like a solid plan. The last thing we need is any more attention drawn to this than absolutely necessary.”

I took a deep breath, and asked for a long shot. “Can you read Jeffrey Burton in to Halcyon Division? Or something? Even just let him know it exists and what our basic function is?” I ignored the tightening around Lennon’s mouth and barreled on. “Constant mental gymnastics with him while I’m trying to figure this out is a no-go. Offer him a job or something, I don’t care what you do, but please don’t make me exert more mental effort on lying and roundabout explanations while I’m trying to explain things to Jeffrey.”

“We don’t have any job openings.”

“Then create one, make it temporary, or put him on the books as a contractor. I don’t care,” I repeated. “This is going to be hard enough already, and I need it to be as easy as it can be. I know he has the clearance. And he already suspects that being hired by ‘Mr. Lennon’ to protect me during my reassignment—thanks, by the way—means there’s more to this whole thing than appears on the surface.”

His thinned lips relaxed ever so slightly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you. And I obviously need the hard drive.”

“I can’t do that,” Lennon said immediately.

A little alarm bell dinged quietly in my head and I tried a bluff. “Then I can’t work on it. I’m not going to come running to you every time I have a breakthrough to ask you to check if it’s right.” I’d uncovered the former VP’s treachery, so you’d think I’d have clearance to view dossiers on current foreign operatives, or whatever was on my dad’s hard drive. Not to mention, this entire building was a SCIF—sensitive compartmented information facility—which meant nobody outside could see or hear inside to view or listen to anything, and any super-classified information would remain that way.

“Okay, you’ll be given a copy,” he agreed, again without hesitation. “And your father’s files will be delivered to your new office.”

Oh yay. I couldn’t wait to read about my father’s double life.