Page 77

Fortunately, we remained as busy as we could, given the number of meetings—called briefings—I was required to attend at Vauxhall Cross.
Even then, Pen assured me she was perfectly fine sightseeing on her own.
“I made contact with someone I knew from my days at Emma Stanley,” Penelope said when I returned to the flat after being gone most of the morning. “You might know her cousin. His code name is Saint.”
“Yes, he and I met briefly.”
“Anyway, she’s invited us to meet her for dinner this evening. She said, ‘Meet us,’ but I wasn’t clear on whether Saint would be joining us or someone else. Apparently, the place we’re going to is quite exclusive.”
Given the next couple of days would be more intense than the ones prior, I hoped Pen might be able to spend some time with this friend after the meetup. “What’s her name?” I asked.
“Eliza Fox, and she’s a hoot. Had she spent more than a semester at the academy, I’m sure the tribe would’ve grown to six.” Her expression grew more serious. “Her family was equally dysfunctional, sadly, and like Quinn, Tara, and me, she’s an only child. I mean, just Quinn and me. Sorry.”
I pulled her into my arms. “Neither Tara nor I knew we were half siblings until long after she left Emma Stanley. You did not offend me.”
“I feel like I should ask about your day, but I don’t know how much you can talk about.”
“Being at Vauxhall Cross reminds me of our time at Camp Peary but without the physical training. The amount of information I’m told on a daily basis is quite overwhelming, particularly given how little of it pertains to my specific op.”
What I’d learned about the human trafficking ring the coalition was investigating sickened me. Worse was that I was convinced both the Sicilians and Calabrians were heavily involved in it. To be able to infiltrate either organization and come out unscathed would take a plan that was crafted to the most minute detail.
Given Nemesis’ strong belief that the Sicilians were responsible for the art-forgery scheme that had bilked what we now knew were over one hundred world-renowned galleries out of millions, we made the decision to contact them first. Using their own game against them, I was able to create a recent history of alleged art sales, showing I was heavily back in business. Another thing that worked in my favor with them was that when I was brought down for my crimes, I hadn’t taken them with me. I took full responsibility for the forgeries sold to the Calabrians that resulted in Richard and Tara being abducted and almost killed. Additionally, I’d made restitution to the victims far exceeding what I should’ve been responsible for, all in an effort to keep my collaboration with the Sicilians a secret.
Doc’s words played over in my head, reminding me that when I did deploy, I’d wish I had more time.
23
BUTTERFLY
Brand hadn’t said anything about when his mission would start, but I sensed it was soon. He also hadn’t said anything about when we’d return to New York, and I somehow knew when the time came, I’d be traveling alone.
“We don’t have to go tonight,” I said when he seemed preoccupied. “Or I can go on my own.”
We were sitting on the sofa, and Brand pulled me into his arms. “I want to spend every minute I can with you, Butterfly.”
“You have to leave soon, don’t you?”
He raised his left eyebrow just slightly and said, “I’m not certain.”
“Don’t,” I snapped, wriggling out of his hold.
“What’s this about, Pen?”
“You just lied to me.”
“I didn’t. I’m truly not certain.”
“But you have some idea,” I said when I saw his left eyebrow move again.
“I fear it’s imminent.”
“Will you be returning to New York?”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe I’ll be able to.”
“Will this happen before Christmas?” I knew the work he was about to do was important, and as soon as the words left my mouth, I felt selfish and childish.
“It will not be. However, I’m anticipating it will be shortly after the new year.”