“Back seat. Needs to be assembled.”
“Jono, take the front.” Patrick opened the side passenger door but paused before getting in. He raised an eyebrow at Nadine. “Weren’t you supposed to be on vacation?”
“I was.” She slid back behind the wheel and pulled her door shut. “Technically, I’m not even on loan.”
Which meant Nadine was AWOL in the worst way possible and they couldn’t rely on any backup from either of their agencies while in the field.
“Feels like old times,” Patrick said before getting into the back seat and buckling up.
“Gods, I hope not,” Nadine said as she put the SUV into reverse. “But this is you we’re talking about, so I’m guessing we’re all just fucked.”
Patrick rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t really argue with the truth.
13
“These havethe serial numbers filed off. Did you get them from Lucien?”
Nadine took her eyes off the cop car clearing them a way through New York City streets to glance at Patrick in the rearview mirror. “Rifles aren’t acceptable carry-on items for any airline, so what do you think?”
Patrick finished sliding home the magazine filled with spelled bullets for the M4A1 carbine he had assembled in the back seat. “I hate carbines. You think he’d pick a better rifle to sell.”
“You’re still fucking picky about what you carry even three years out of the Corps.”
“Like you aren’t,” Patrick retorted. “Lucien said he was waiting for more shipments to arrive. I’m assuming they did if he’s handing out weapons?”
“He still has a few more coming. These were appropriated from what he had on hand when he crossed the southern border on such short notice.”
“What was he doing on this continent? Did the Middle East stop being lucrative or something?”
“You’d have to ask him.”
“I’d rather not.”
Patrick tucked the first carbine back into its transport case and put it on the seat beside him. He grabbed the second transport case and started to assemble the next weapon in less than a minute. The motions were practically muscle memory for him, so it was easy to do. He split up the extra magazine cartridges containing military grade spelled bullets between both weapons.
Nadine’s borrowed gear was limited, but all of it was in excellent condition. Lucien’s business might be exceptionally illegal, but no one ever complained about the products he sold on the black market. Those that did usually ended up dead.
She hadn’t brought a uniform, but the Kevlar-lined tactical vest was similar to the kind they’d both worn in the military. Patrick had strapped on the set she’d brought for him over his clothes already, the weight of the gear familiar.
Patrick leaned back in his seat and scratched at his cheek. “Where were you when Setsuna pulled you this time?”
“Visiting my parents in Nice. I got the plane ticket back to the States under an alias. For all intents and purposes, I am still in Nice.”
France was Nadine’s home away from home. She’d been born in the United States but had largely grown up in Paris. Both her parents had worked for the State Department out of the Paris embassy for the majority of her childhood and teenage years. In some ways, she was culturally more French than American.
She’d joined the Mage Corps when she was nearly twenty-two after earning a degree in political science at the Paris Institute of Political Studies in three years. She was a few years older than Patrick but had earned the same sort of honorable discharge he had after the Thirty-Day War. Instead of transitioning into civilian life, Nadine had joined the PIA and opted to return to her adoptive country. She was based out of Paris now, working counterintelligence cases in Europe.
Patrick missed her. Nadine hadn’t been part of his team back then, but they’d worked with her on and off for certain missions. She was a friend, and he didn’t have very many of those these days.
“I need a sitrep,” Nadine said.
Her hands in their fingerless gloves slid along the steering wheel as she took the long, curving exit off FDR Drive onto the Brooklyn Bridge at a fast speed. She was following their escort and the directions to the address Jono had plugged into his phone’s GPS.
“What did Setsuna tell you?” Patrick asked.
“That you needed backup.”
“Whatelsedid she tell you?”
