"The wound?"
"Through and through on the ribs. I'll live."
Priest's pale eyes shift to Sera, who's standing beside me with her arms crossed and her chin lifted. Assessing him the same way he's assessing her.
"Ms. Mancini." He inclines his head slightly. "I apologize for the circumstances that brought us together."
"You mean the circumstances you created twelve years ago?" Her voice is sharp. "When you buried Ford's evidence and handed a marker to my father?"
Something flickers across Priest's face. Not quite surprise, but close. "Ford told you."
"Ford told me enough." She doesn't back down from his gaze. "Now I'd like to hear the rest. Starting with why the men who tried to kill us this morning are connected to whatever happened twelve years ago."
Priest exchanges a look with Mace, then turns to me. "She's direct."
"She's also right here and getting tired of being talked around." Sera steps forward. "You created this situation. You owe us an explanation."
For a long moment, Priest is silent. Then he nods.
"Fair enough." He moves to the stern bench and sits, his posture deceptively relaxed. "Twelve years ago, Ford was part of an operation that went wrong in ways that were never supposed to be documented. The evidence he was holding could have exposed not just him, but an entire network of deniable operations. Operations that certain people in certain agencies wanted to remain deniable."
"So you made it disappear."
"I made it disappear." Priest's eyes meet mine. "And in exchange, I needed something from your father. A favor he wasuniquely positioned to provide. The marker Ford carried was part of that arrangement."
"What kind of favor?"
"The kind that allowed me to neutralize a threat to national security without official authorization." Priest's voice is flat. "Your father's network had access to shipping routes that certain hostile actors were using to move materials into the country. I needed that access shut down quietly. Enzo Mancini was... cooperative."
"My father helped the CIA?" Sera's voice carries disbelief.
"Your father helped me. And I helped Ford. And everyone walked away with what they needed." Priest spreads his hands. "Until now."
Mace pulls out a tablet, swiping through files. "The contractor signature matches a group that's been on our radar for years. Meridian Strategic Solutions. Black-budget work, deniable operations, the kind of people who clean up messes for clients who can afford discretion."
"And their connection to the Veronis?" I ask.
"That's where it gets interesting." Priest leans forward. "Six months ago, Meridian took a contract from an investment consortium that traces back to Rhode Island political interests. The kind of people who would benefit if Enzo Mancini's organization collapsed."
I process this, my mind racing through implications. "So this isn't just about hurting Mancini through his daughter. Someone's running a coordinated operation to destabilize his entire network."
"It gets worse." Priest's expression is grim. "I ran the operational signature against historical data. The tactical approach, the equipment loadout, the coordination methods. It matches the team that was involved in your compromised op twelve years ago."
The words land in my gut. I see Sera's head snap toward me. See the question forming in her eyes.
"That can't be coincidence."
"It's not." Priest stands, moving to the rail to look out over the water. "Someone's connecting old dots. Your marker with Mancini. The buried evidence from your op. The current turf war. It's all part of the same picture, Ford. I came here personally because I need to see who's holding the brush."
Sera stands from where she's been sitting on the stern bench. "My father. He would know. If someone's running an operation against him, he'd have intelligence about who's behind it."
"Probably." Mace nods. "But contacting him directly could compromise your position. If there's a leak in his organization?—"
"There's no leak." Her voice is sharp. "I know my father's people. The ones he trusts are loyal. They've been loyal for decades."
"With respect, Ms. Mancini, that kind of certainty is how organizations get infiltrated."
"My father isn't the one who brought a twelve-year-old intelligence operation into this." She turns to face me, and I see something new in her expression. Something cold. "That's Ford's contribution."
