I spluttered a laugh and nearly dropped the coffee cup. “Why don’t you leave the chemistry to the professionals, LaPierre?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Would you prefer I discuss how to load a gun? Maybe fire it?”
I bit down on my lip to stop from laughing.
“Morning.” Scarlett’s voice startled me, and I almost dropped the cup again. She wandered in, wearing what were clearly Malcolm’s clothes—an Army T-shirt that hung to mid-thigh and oversized shorts.
I tensed, waiting for the teasing or questions, but Scarlett merely walked to the coffee machine. Why did I expect anything different? This wasn’t the sort of forbidden fraternization that Rav and I had hidden all those years ago. This was orchestrated and even encouraged by his team.
“Triple shot?” she asked, nodding at my cup.
“Long night,” I said before I could stop myself. Or maybe as a thank-you for clearing out of the room.
She smiled but didn’t comment, instead turning to Rav. “Mario’s got some thoughts he wanted to share before heading to the park, and Bobcat’s calling in five. Says they’ve got news.”
“On our way,” Rav said as he shifted into operator mode.
We followed Scarlett into the study, which buzzed with activity. Topographical maps covered every surface; two tablets displayed surveillance footage from under the amphitheater, while a third included a feed from Pendragon.
Drew monitored the underground cameras we’d installed. Malcolm and Jayce huddled over another monitor, marking coordinates on a digital overlay of Pompeii. The methodology reminded me of my lab days—multiple data points, cross-referenced and analyzed for patterns. Except here, the variables weren’t chemical compounds but human actors with unpredictable motivations.
Mario gave Rav a knowing wink. “I told you no woman can resist that shirt.”
My cheeks warmed again, but the team’s easy acceptance of our relationship was a relief. No awkward questions, no pointed remarks—just a seamless integration of this new reality into the operational dynamics.
“Any thoughts on the tunnel access for today?” Rav asked, studying the map in front of us.
Mario pointed to the western edge of the archaeological park. “I think we should change entry points. You’ve gone in and out from the House of the Arches a few times now, so I want to use the old service tunnel by the Small Theater.” He traced a path with his finger. “It’s a longer walk through narrower passages, but Fenix wouldn’t think to watch it.”
Rav nodded. “How much longer to get to the amphitheater from there?”
Mario held out his hands as though weighing items. “An extra hour if you don’t get lost.”
“Are you going to guide us?”
“Of course!”
“What about the surveillance feeds?” Rav asked Drew.
“Still nothing,” Drew replied, frowning at his monitor. “Nothing beyond the regular noise from the tourists since you replaced the batteries yesterday.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Rav muttered. “If Noah told us the truth about tonight, they should be setting up already.”
“Unless they’re bringing everything in at the last minute,” Malcolm suggested. “Minimizes exposure time.”
“Or they’ve changed their plans.” I took a sip of my espresso. If Fenixhadchanged their plans, we might not have time to figure out the new location.
“Or Noah was lying the entire time.” Rav frowned pointedly at Scarlett.
Setting up chemical deployment systems always took longer than expected, including multiple test runs to ensure containment and proper dispersal patterns. The absence of activity suggested either extraordinarily confident operators or a completely different plan than what we anticipated.
Or utter incompetence, which didn’t fit the stories I’d heard.
Scarlett’s phone rang. She answered and put it on speaker. “You’re on with the team, Bobcat.”
“Ten minutes ago, three trucks left the lab,” Bobcat reported. “All with hazardous contents placards. Two heading west, which could be toward Pompeii, one heading north.”
I exchanged a glance with Rav.
