"Both families. Every move, every transaction, every conversation that touches a compromised network." She turns in the chair to face me, and her knee presses against my thigh. Warm even through fabric. "Leone, if they have access to your communication infrastructure, they can see everything. Every order you give. Every strike you plan. Every..."
She trails off. Her eyes drop to my mouth, then back up. Quick. Involuntary.
"Every what?" I ask, but my voice has changed. Lower. The conversation is slipping sideways and we both feel it.
"Every vulnerability," she says. Her voice is quieter now.
We're close. Too close for a conversation about surveillance networks and shell corporations. Her knee is still against my thigh, and her pulse jumps at the base of her throat, fast and visible.
"We should focus," she says.
"We should."
Neither of us moves.
The compound is quiet around us. Late enough that the patrols have thinned, early enough that the night shift hasn't fully settled. The only sound is the ventilation system and our breathing, which has synced without either of us noticing.
I step back. It takes more effort than it should.
"Keep working the Apex Meridian trail," I say. "I'll brief Aurelio on the photo and the surveillance angle. We'll compare notes."
She nods. Turns back to the desk. But her hand finds mine as I pass, fingers catching my wrist, holding me for a beat.
"Be careful," she says.
"Always."
"Liar."
I extract my wrist from her grip and leave before I make a mistake that will keep us both up all night.
The briefing with Aurelio takes two hours. I lay out everything. The photo. The security breach. Alexandra's analysis of Apex Meridian, the tech firm, the logistics company, the implication that our communications may be compromised. Aurelio listens without interruption, his face carved from the same grey stone as always.
When I finish, he's quiet for a long time.
"The girl found all of this?" he asks.
"Yes."
"In how long?"
"Days. What took our analysts months, she pieced together in days."
Aurelio taps his finger on the desk. Once. Twice. "She's valuable."
"Yes."
"Which makes her dangerous. To whoever is behind this."
"I know."
"And to us. If she's taken. If she talks."
My jaw locks and panic rises in my chest, making breathing normally extremely difficult. "She won't be taken."
"You can guarantee that?"
"I can guarantee that anyone who tries will die before they touch her."
