“The trawler’s in position,” Zoey announced, reading a message off her phone. They were the first words anyone had spoken for an hour.
“Good,” Noah grunted.
The fourth passenger was Tom, one of Antoine’s thralls, and he gave Cally a reassuring smile.
Another half hour passed before Zoey spoke again. “We’re almost there. Radio check.”
Cally flicked on the radio on her belt, then pressed a finger to the earpiece she wore, confirming it was secure. Zoey’s voice came through in a whisper: “…two, three. Check, check.”
Cally touched the throat mic she wore. “I hear you.”
Tom leaned across the seat. “Hit the push-to-talk clipped on your vest here,” he said softly. “Hold it down while you speak.”
Cally blushed hard, finding the button and giving it a squeeze. “I hear you.”
“Great job, Princess,” Zoey said sarcastically.
“Don’t start,” Cally shot back. “I’m not in the mood.”
“None of us are,” Noah added. “And you shouldn’t need me to tell you that.”
Zoey paused briefly, then continued like he hadn’t said anything. “Don’t forget your gloves and masks. No prints, no hair.”
Cally didn’t need that reminder. Her balaclava was already half on, and she tugged it down over her face, tucking her plait inside. It quickly grew hot and humid, and she forced herself to slow her breathing. Her tactical gloves were next. Tight, synthetic material that was strangely reassuring.
At least I’m dressed the part.
“Tom, you have the bolt cutters?” Zoey asked.
Tom patted a thigh pouch. “Check.”
“Noah, Tom, tasers?”
“Yeah,” Noah said as he drove.
“Check,” Tom added.
“I don’t get a taser?” Cally asked.
“You get the duct tape and zip ties,” Zoey said, tossing a zipped pouch over the seat to her.
Cally scowled. “I want a taser.”
“You don’t need a taser,” Noah said. “You’re the strongest person here. Punch them, if you have to.”
“Try not to snap their necks,” Zoey added.
Cally blinked. Stronger than Noah? That was surprising.
Also, it sounded like a brush-off.
“Lockpicks, red-light torch,” Tom reeled off loudly, maybe as much to dispel the friction as to verbalize his checks.
But it didn’t do anything for Cally’s tension. “Is that everything?”
“No, that’s not everything, Prin—” Zoey closed her mouth with a snap.
Tom rolled his eyes behind Zoey’s chair, and winked at Cally. “First aid kits, a tranq gun, one pair of night-vision goggles, and Noah has a thermal scope.”
