"Practice starts now," Remy says. He nods to Luc, who pulls out his phone and taps something.
A timer appears on the screen. Counting down from three minutes.
"Go," Remy says.
I stare at him. "Go where?"
"Pick up the scanner. Check these sample vials." He points to a row of small containers on the table's far end. "Tell me which ones match your compound signatures. You have three minutes before I stop you."
My heart rate spikes. This isn't theoretical practice. This is a simulation of the real operation's pressure.
I grab the scanner, move to the vials. My hands want to shake. I steady them through sheer will and start scanning.
The first vial glows faint blue under UV. Wrong wavelength. Not activation compound.
The second vial shows nothing. Empty or filled with inert liquid.
The third vial glows pale yellow.
"Activation compound," I say. "Third from left."
"Keep going," Remy says. "You've used forty seconds."
I work faster. Scanning, identifying, moving to the next. Some vials I shake, checking for viscosity through the sealed containers.
The timer hits two minutes.
"Faster," Remy says. His voice is calm but carries absolute authority. "In the field, you won't have this much time. Guards could be shooting. Lazarev could be closing in. You need to work through that pressure."
I push harder. Scan, identify, move. Scan, identify, move.
Timer hits one minute.
"Done," I say, pointing to five vials. "Activation compound here and here. Binding agent in these two. Base catalyst in the last one."
Remy checks my identifications against whatever key he has. Nods once. "Four out of five correct. The second binding agent is actually inert decoy. Similar viscosity but wrong molecular structure."
"How would I know that without testing?"
"You wouldn't. Which is why you identify most likely candidates, and I start demolition on confirmed targets while you verify the rest." He resets the timer. "Again. Faster this time."
We run the drill several more times. Each iteration faster, each one adding complications. Luc starts making noise to simulate combat. Remy moves equipment around to force me to search. By the final run, I'm identifying compounds in under two minutes with near-perfect accuracy.
"Good," Remy says when I finish the last drill. "That's the speed I need during the raid. Can you maintain it under actual fire?"
I think about last night. Running through Rotterdam streets with bullets cracking past. Diving behind the extraction vehicle while Luc's team laid down suppressing fire. My hands steady, my breathing controlled, following Remy's orders without hesitation.
"Yes," I say.
He studies me for a long moment. Testing whether I mean it. Then nods. "Break. Fifteen minutes. Eat something."
I force myself to eat even though my stomach is tight. Fuel for the op. Can't afford to run on empty when the compounds need identifying.
Luc has protein bars and water bottles set out. While I eat, Remy works with the C4. He measures charges with precise efficiency, cutting blocks into specific weights. Each piece goes into a prepared container with detonators and wireless triggers.
"Shaped charges," he explains without looking up. "Designed to contain and incinerate without dispersing aerosols. The blast directs inward, creating temperatures high enough to break down molecular structures completely."
I watch him work. Hands steady. Movements controlled. This is what he does. This is what he's always done. Destroy things with surgical precision.
