Fuck. I sat next to Radek. It was the least complicated spot.
“We have a stocked minibar,” Arthur told Grace. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you.”
Her desire to sit through a tactical briefing rather than wait in the next room was unexpected. Most principals wanted distance from the operational details. Grace wanted the opposite.
A vision of holding her on the train flashed through my memory. There hadn’t been any distance from the operational details last night. I’d imagined doing so many things with her that crossed every professional boundary, let alone every personal boundary I had.
Merlin picked up his tablet. “Tristan called from Brenton this morning. He spoke with his contact at the police department toconfirm they got an international hit on the prints from your apartment. The intel was off-the-record, but he confirmed it was Conrad Richter.”
Grace went very still. “He was the one in my home?”
Merlin nodded slowly and grimaced, in an obvious attempt to soften the words. “Yes, he was.”
It didn’t surprise me, and it shouldn’t have surprised her, but when her gaze unfocused, my arms started getting itchy. But there was no hugging in team meetings, no matter how much I wanted to cross the room and pull her in.
“Okay,” she said after a beat. “At least we know now.”
At least.There was that phrase again, the signal she was reshaping the narrative in her head so it was better than the shit reality that Conrad Richter had been in her bedroom.
“You won’t have to worry about him much longer.” Arthur pulled his tablet from the table. “Before we discuss what’s happening tomorrow, I need to mention the operational costs.”
Grace straightened. “I should be paying for this.”
“That’s not why I brought it up.” Arthur said it easily, as though it were already settled. “We need real operations in our portfolio, and a significant artifact recovery with a security component and international cooperation is exactly the kind of work I want us known for. It’s all covered by our startup marketing budget.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“The Pendragon contract alone is substantial.” Arthur didn’t look at me as he spoke, but he held the tablet at enough of an angle for me to spy the total. It wasn’t anywhere near the value of the egg, but it was a large sum.
He’d done it intentionally. I’d told Tristan any company competing with White Spring Security for my services would need serious money. Arthur wasn’t making casual conversation.He was making sure I’d seen the number because it was part of his pitch.
“Can we get into tomorrow?” I said.
Arthur swiped to a new app on his tablet. “Let’s.”
I walked them through the intel I’d gathered at Henri’s that afternoon. The cobblestone court, the two approaches to the front gate, the walled kitchen garden, the garden doors off the dining room, and the angles from inside. Radek filled in the local picture, including response times for Czech police near Henri’s estate, jurisdictional lines, and which neighbors had views of the access road.
Grace followed all of it. After Radek finished, she asked, “Are any of you carrying weapons tomorrow?”
“Myself and Aleš only,” Radek said. “Czech carry permits are strict.”
“And the rest of you?” she asked.
“I looked into it, but we don’t have enough time to obtain the right documents,” Arthur said. “Merlin, Galahad, and I can’t carry firearms, but we’re allowed to carry stun guns, knives, batons, or even pepper spray.”
“Do you have vests or plate carriers on the jet?” I asked.
“Our inaugural flight was supposed to be for meetings.” Arthur huffed out a laugh. “No, we’re not stocked, but I expect Pendragon can help us out?”
Radek nodded. “I’m more comfortable in a plate carrier. I’ll check some out from our office for you. Some of the other items, though?”
“I guess I’ll have some shopping to do.” Arthur jotted some notes on his tablet. “We can purchase items locally and start building our mobile supply.”
Having a whole private jet as a storage locker? Was that a flex or another part of the recruitment pitch?
“Is that enough?” asked Grace.
