“But first,” said Elizabeth, simultaneously delighted that she was the one to bring her siblings to order for the first time in her life… and that the reason for their distraction was the impressive imagination of her lover. “We have a battle to plan.”
“No, dear sister,” said Jacob as he settled himself and his gerbilinto one of the chairs. “Actual physical combat is a contingency to a contingency to a contingency.”
“There are three other plans already?”
“Not yet,” he admitted. “But that’s why we’ve assembled.”
“Is this how your family normally operates?” Stephen asked as he joined Elizabeth on a sofa.
“Close.” Her heart suddenly ached for home. “We have the most cunning Planning Parlor perfectly designed to devise schemes of every flavor. Tommy draws maps on the slate floor, and the cabinets are filled with—oh, I wish you could see it!”
Her siblings exchanged intrigued glances.
Elizabeth’s cheeks warmed. The only non-Wynchesters to ever step foot inside the siblings’ Planning Parlor… had themselves later become Wynchesters. Part of the team, and part of the family. By wishing Stephen amongst them, she’d as good as declared herself publicly.
It was a good thing Stephen didn’t realize she’d done so.
Admitting how she felt was terrifying. Being vulnerable meant being weak. Elizabeth never showed weakness. Not if she could help it.
“Creating so many surprising and useful thingsisvery Wynchester-y of Stephen,” Marjorie said meaningfully.
Elizabeth shushed her and assumed a nonchalant expression. “Let’s concentrate on our task, shall we?”
“We have the will,” said Jacob. “Our first step should be to tell Reddington.”
Stephen nodded. “That might be all it takes. Elizabeth explicitly stipulated that if we provided sufficient proof, Reddington must follow the law.”
“He agreed?” Tommy asked. “Out loud? In those words?”
Elizabeth sent Stephen a leery expression. “He didn’tdisagree. Out loud. Using words.”
Stephen lifted a shoulder. “We have to try.”
“Ooh,” said Marjorie, “we can use the new speaking trumpet that Adrian created.”
He held up a long brass cone.
“Reddington does seem to find amplified shouting quite compelling.” Tommy tossed the speaking trumpet to Graham. “Let’s go yell at him.”
“Hide the will and testament, just to be safe,” Jacob cautioned. “Once it’s tucked back where you found it, I’ll lock Apophis in the parlor as guard until we can get the good news to Miss Oak.”
Stephen lowered his mouth to Elizabeth’s ear. “Is Apophis the Highland tiger?”
“Python,” she murmured back.
“That should do the trick,” he agreed.
“Off to resolve the problem straight away. Here I go.” Elizabeth held out her hand. “Trumpet, please.”
“Voluntarily allow my least charismatic sister to oversee negotiations?” Graham muttered as he slapped the speaking trumpet into her palm. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
Jacob and Philippa stayed behind to secure the papers while Elizabeth hurried to the closest window.
She stuck the flared tip of her speaking trumpet through the crack. “Hold your fire! Hold your fire! Please confirm cease fire! You promised not to attack before ten o’clock tomorrow morning!”
She yanked the trumpet back into the room while they awaited Reddington’s reply.
After a long moment, his voice sounded through his own trumpet. “Cease fire confirmed. Now awaiting your surrender.”
