"Try me," Specs said.
"The truth is that sometimes good people have to do bad things to prevent worse things from happening," Mina said. "The truth is that the world is more complicated than your black-and-white view of right and wrong."
"The truth is, you're traitors," Lark spat.
"Perhaps," Wes said, stepping closer. "Unfortunately, you two are going to have an accident."
He gestured toward the door with his weapon.
"Now, follow us please."
Kawan crouched behind a maintenance shed on the east side of the administrative building, checking his watch for the third time in five minutes. Fourteen hundred hours had come and gone, and Lark and Specs should have been in Lorre's office for twenty minutes now. Long enough to establish communications but not long enough for things to go completely sideways.
Yet.
"Comms check," he said quietly into his throat mic. "All stations report."
"Thor, west perimeter. All quiet."
"Jupiter, north side. Two guards at the main entrance, rotating every thirty minutes like clockwork."
"Sloan, south approach. Vehicle bay's clear, but I've got eyes on our backup transport."
"Lief, overwatch position. Good sightlines on the third floor. No movement in the target office since our girls went in."
"Moose, rear exit. Locked down tight, but I can get us through if we need an alternative route."
Kawan keyed his mic again. "Brick, what's your status?"
"Pipe and I are in the lobby, running our 'security assessment,'" came Brick's calm voice. "Tonka's in the basement, checking their electrical systems. So far, our cover's holding."
"Any word from Bradford and Alvarez?" Kawan asked.
"Radio silence since they moved to their position an hour ago," Dustin's voice crackled through the comm. "Could be maintaining operational security, could be something else."
That "something else" was what worried Kawan. Bradford and Alvarez were supposed to be providing overwatch from an abandoned office building two blocks away, ready to move in ifthings went hot. The fact that they weren't responding to check-ins made his skin crawl.
"Jupiter," he said. "You picking up anything on the electronic surveillance front?"
"Negative. Whatever Specs is doing in there, she's keeping it quiet. No unusual network traffic, no security alerts. Either she's being very subtle, or?—"
"Or they're not letting her work," Kawan finished grimly.
A burst of static filled his earpiece, followed by a familiar voice that made his blood run cold.
"—died,"came Specs' voice, crystal clear through the communication link she'd apparently managed to establish.
Then Wes Lantham's voice, casual as always:"Close. But as you can see, reports of our deaths have been greatly exaggerated."
Kawan's finger tightened on his weapon. Wes was alive. And from the sound of it, he was working with Lorre.
"How long?"Lark's voice, tight with barely controlled fury.
"How long what?"Mina asked.
"How long have you been working against us?"Lark asked.
"Define 'against.' Because from where I'm standing, we're on the right side of this thing,”Wes said.
