“Two blocks ahead. Supermarket parking lot.” Her voice is clipped, clinical. “The man is in the driver’s seat. The woman is at the ATM. The girls in the back are alive but sedated. One of them is starting to wake up.”
My stomach lurches.
“You need to move,” she says. “Now.”
Cassian’s jaw tightens. “We’re going.”
Nathaniel nods once. “We can’t wait. But we need a plan.”
Alex points at Cassian with one blunt finger. “I propose a quick insertion. Hit the van while the man is alone, sedate him, wait for the woman to return, sedate her too. Then drive the van out of sight and secure the girls.”
Cassian’s eyes narrow. “Bold. In daylight.”
“You don’t have the luxury of night,” Alex deadpans. “Do it fast, and it’s done.”
Nathaniel glances at Cassian. “I can prep the syringes. Fast-acting.”
Cassian nods. “How fast?”
“Five seconds to drop. Ten if they’re running high on adrenaline.”
Talon whistles. “Love it when doctor mode comes online.”
Alex’s expression doesn’t change, but her tone sharpens. “Well… if you have something lethal, maybe use that instead.”
Cassian’s head snaps toward her. “No.”
Alex shoots him a look, but before she can ask why, Nathaniel speaks from the backseat.
“Don’t have anything,” he says.
And I know it’s a lie. Cassian knows it’s a lie. We all do, maybe except Alex, since she knows almost nothing about us. For a split second, I find myself wondering: why not? This could be over soon.
Cassian told me not to worry about bystanders. If it comes to that, I should just shoot. That’s it.
But a tiny voice in my head offers the real reason. Being seen committing a crime is only worth it if it’s the only way to save your life. But if there’s a way to survive without being seen, without closing off the possibility of a future for us…
My guys don’t want to dig the hole any deeper than it already is. Unlike with the Candy Maker, they actually care about tomorrow.
Alex shrugs. “Fine. As long as you kill them, I don’t care.”
Cassian pulls in near a line of SUVs and puts the car in park. “Prep.”
He swings out of the driver’s seat and heads for the trunk.
My pulse spikes.
He digs through the trunk and comes up with a reflective road-worker vest. It’s orange, and bright, and ugly, and it should stand out. But it doesn’t. He shrugs it on and becomes instantly unremarkable. Just a man doing a job, nothing more. Even his broad posture turns less threatening.
Which is exactly what we need him to be.
Just a man.
Nathaniel unzips his kit and pulls out vials, syringes, alcohol pads. His hands move with eerie precision, like his exhaustion doesn’t even register. Talon watches from the backseat, impressed enough to shut up for once.
Alex phases through the dashboard and reappears near the windshield.
“Suspect’s still in the driver’s seat,” she says. “Woman’s still at the ATM. You’ve got maybe three minutes. Four if she tries to check her balance twice like an idiot.”
