Lark ignored the dig—or whatever that was. “Jupiter, open your equipment, take a seat, and follow along.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jupiter rubbed his hands together and waggled both brows.
“Seriously?” Specs glanced over her screen.
Lark moved methodically across the concrete, focusing on her toes as they hit the floor as if that was all she needed to make these moments normal, because her job was anything but and this mission had been tossing her curve balls since she woke up. “They’re here, we’ve been ordered to include them, we might as well put them to good use. They’re good men, and we can use more eyes in town, and Jupiter can help cover some of the blind spots.”
“I take that statement personally,” Specs mumbled.
“Don’t.” Jupiter rested a hand on her shoulder before he opened his black box. “I’m sure you’ve got it mostly covered, but even with months of planning, there are only so many angles.”
“Not to mention we just got word a half hour ago the location changed, and I don’t have full access to that spot.” Specs leaned back and pointed to one of her screens, giving into the situation, not because she didn’t have a choice, which she didn’t, but because she was a true professional and this was what the job called for.
“Alright, we can put a camera on Thor and have him sit on that bench with a book and a cup of coffee. He has that scholarly look about him.”
“That would work,” Specs agreed. “But I wouldn’t have him get up and move about. That would call attention to a body, and we can’t afford to do that.”
“True.” Jupiter rubbed his jaw. “So, we’ll need to take a few more minutes, study the other blind points, look at who else we can use and how. Then we place and move from there.”
“Awesome that those two are playing nice in the sandbox.” Thor hooked his thumb toward Specs and Jupiter. “But we need to know what’s going on if we’re going to be sitting ducks, protect this mission, and get us all out alive.”
Lark drew in a breath and finally stopped pacing.
The orange stress ball rolled between her fingers as she faced both her team and Kawan’s now watching her. Waiting. Weighing.
“The mission is simple,” she said, voice steady but low. “A U.S. defense contractor developed cutting-edge AI for military battlefield logistics—target tracking, deployment modeling, and autonomous drone assessment. Not quite sentient, but close enough to make the Pentagon wet their pants.”
Sloan gave a low whistle. “I’d love to see that in action.”
“But someone inside the company got greedy,” she continued. “We intercepted chatter that someone was looking to sell a copy—modified and unrestricted—to the highest bidder. Not through official channels. Not to allies. We're talking rogue elements. Cartels. Hostile states. Groups who’d use it to destabilize… everything.”
“So, you set up a buy,” Kawan said, eyes sharp. “But you don’t know who the seller is?”
“We have a tech analyst working undercover inside the company. Someone who works with the AI systems. Someone just high enough who would be involved in testing the systems, development, and what the next steps are. He’s been monitoring the chatter. That’s how we knew when and where.”
“Who’s on the inside?” Kawan asked, leaning against the edge of the desk with his long legs stretched out and arms folded across his chest.
“A man by the name of Bretton Halston,” Lark said. “I’ve worked with him before—Black Ops through dark channels with the CIA. Smart as hell and scary with a weapon. Total package, if you ignore the fact he’s a bit crazy.” Lark rubbed the back of her neck. “He’s been on the inside now for ten weeks. If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t have been able to identify the buyer and ensure we have someone working on the inside with them, too.”
“You have someone working with the buyer as well?” Thor blinked.
“We have an operative that’s been undercover with a Middle Eastern billionaire tech mogul.” She fiddled with the tension ball. “Torin Reece has been working undercover for months, gathering intel for something unrelated. Once Bretton sent us the intel that a buy meeting was set up, we were able to get word to Torin, who has assured us—at least, at last communication—that he will be at this meeting.”
“That’s a dangerous game,” Lief mumbled.
“We don’t play games.” Lark rubbed the stress ball up and down her thigh. “In less than two hours, we head to town. In two hours, the person inside the company will think they’re selling a highly functional weapons AI program to a foreign arms broker. But with Torin there, we’ll be able to intercept it, protecting the tech.”
“What if they want to see the program before they walk away?” Sloan asked.
“Then we’ll show it to them,” Alverez said.
“Christ. You’re using the real AI,” Sloan said quietly. “That’s why you’re so jumpy.”
Lark glared. She might be high-strung, but jumpy—no fucking way. “The asset had to be real. Nothing else would pass the buyer’s scrutiny.”
Kawan unfolded his arms. “Ballsy. Then again, I’d expect nothing else from you.”
“Was that a compliment?” Lark grinned.
