Page 26

I clear my throat. “We need to talk about logistics. I think it's best if I arrive separately, but I want the rest of you in position by the time I get there.”

Alex shows his phone to Talon.

“There’s rooftop access at the building across the street. I can cover you from there," Talon states. “Do you have any drones we can use, Alex?”

"Do I have drones? What kind of question is that?” Alex's voice drips with mock offense as he takes a long sip of coffee. “I've got three in my room, including the new Phantom that can hover for four hours on a single charge.”

“Alex on surveillance, Talon on the roof. Z, I want you to hang back.”

“And me?” Vesper asks, her tone sharp as she looks at me over the rim of her mug, challenge written across her face.

“With Z,” I reply, holding up a hand before she can protest. “Not because I don’t think you can handle yourself, but becauseI need someone, I trust implicitly to keep watch on my brother. He won’t pull something reckless if you’re there.”

Z snorts but doesn’t argue. Vesper’s expression tightens, clearly sensing the deflection, but after a beat, she nods.

“Fine. But I’m not sitting in a car six blocks away.”

“Wouldn’t dream of asking you to,” I assure her, even though the idea had briefly crossed my mind. “You’ll be close enough to hear everything.”

Alex returns to his room and reappears minutes later with a sleek black case. He sets it on the table and flips it open, revealing a drone and an array of compact gear.

“This beauty has thermal imaging and can pick up conversations from fifty yards,” he says as he assembles the parts. “We’ll have full coverage on that building before you even get there.”

“Comms?” I ask Alex.

“Here.” Alex reaches for a small black case in the drone box and passes it to me. “Barely detectable unless someone is specifically looking for it. Just tap once to activate, twice to mute.”

I slip it into my ear, adjusting it until it feels secure.

“Alright, let's move out in thirty,” I announce, checking my watch. “We need to be in position well before ten.”

We disperse without further discussion, each of us focused on our assigned role. Talon begins packing up the weapons while Alex continues calibrating his drone. Z heads toward his room, presumably to gear up, though he casts a lingering look toward Vesper before he turns away.

I make my way to my bedroom to change. Dark jeans, a black t-shirt, and a jacket that will conceal my weapon without looking obvious. As I'm pulling the shirt over my head, I hear my door open and close.

Vesper stands just inside my door, her arms crossed over her chest. She's changed into a dark hoodie, her blonde hair tucked into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her expression is carefully controlled, but I can see the worry under her skin.

“You're staring,” I say, pulling my shirt down.

“And you're not telling me everything,” she counters, taking a step closer. “What aren't you saying about this meeting with Ricky?”

“It's just...unusual. Ricky's particular about his routines. Same bar, same booth, same drink order. This change of venue feels off.”

“You think it's a trap?”

“I think we need to be prepared for anything,” I answer, grabbing my jacket from the hook. “Which is why I need you with Z. He's still raw after Mario, and if things go sideways…”

“You need someone to keep him from going nuclear and to protect me,” she finishes, closing the distance between us. Her fingers brush against my arm, sending electricity through my skin. “I get it. But I don't like that you are walking in there alone.”

“I won't be alone. I'll have the whole team watching my back.” I cup her cheek, my thumb tracing the soft curve of her face. "Besides, Ricky's my informant. He trusts me.”

“And if he's been compromised?”

The question hangs between us, heavy with implications. I don't have a good answer, so I lean forward until my forehead rests against hers, breathing in her scent.

“Then I'll improvise.”

Vesper's hands come up to frame my face, her touch gentle yet insistent. “Oscar,” she says softly, using my full name instead of the nickname everyone else calls me by. “Promise me you'll be careful.”