Page 59 of Undercover Shadow

I deleted it quickly, but not before Tag noticed.

“Everything all right?”

“Viper was confirming some logistics.” Not a lie, but not the whole truth either.

His brow furrowed. “For?”

This was it. The moment when I crossed the line from omission to active deception.

“Vanguard and I are heading out this afternoon to conduct additional reconnaissance on the estate connections and thermal signatures.”

The lie came out smoothly. I’d practiced it during the hours since my call with Typhon and Viper.

“This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

His mobile rang before I could respond, and when he glanced at the screen, his expression hardened. “What do you know? Viper’s calling now.”

“MacTaggert.” His eyes remained riveted to mine when he answered.

I couldn’t hear her side of the conversation, but I watched his jaw tighten as he listened to whatever she was saying.

“I wasn’t consulted about this reassignment.” His tone of voice was low, the way it got when he was fighting to maintain control. “She’s my operative.”

He paused while Viper responded to his challenge.

“Thermal signatures requiring the chief of MI6’s personal oversight?” Skepticism dripped from every word he spoke. “For routine reconnaissance?”

Another pause followed while his free hand clenched into a fist at his side.

“And this couldn’t wait for proper briefing because...?”

Whatever Viper said in response made his expression darken further.

“Understood.”

He ended the call with barely controlled anger, then stood perfectly still for several seconds while he visibly worked to regain his composure.

“Viper says the intelligence is time-sensitive and that source verification required her direct involvement.” His tone made it clear he didn’t believe a word of what he’d just been told. “She’s concerned about the London surveillance incident and wants extra security protocols in place.”

The lies I’d set in motion tasted bitter in my mouth. “Tag?—”

“Why didn’t she brief me directly rather than wait until you’re about to walk out the door?”

“I can’t speak for her.”

“Right.” His gaze lingered like he was searching for answers. “Be careful,” he finally said.

“I will.”

The words sickened me, but what choice did I have? I had to do this. For Idris.

At thirteen hundred,Vanguard and I met at a small pub in Tarbert and sat in a corner booth where no one would overhear as he walked me through the op’s parameters.

“Viper’s thorough,” he commented, sliding documentation across the table. “I’m Richard Sutherland, financial consultant.We met at a gallery opening six months ago and started dating a few weeks later.”

“It’s solid,” I said after scanning the cover story.

“Extraction plans are better.” He pulled up a diagram of Arran. “Three routes off the island if things go sideways. Helicopter on standby in Brodick, boat access at two harbors, car positioned for mainland escape.”