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“He’s my brother. I didn’t think you’d let me go the first time.” Her voice picked up more and more strength with every word.
“You sound scared. Are you?”
Maria nodded slowly.
“Good. You have more sense than most. You can come for the search, but you’ll come back to the shop right after. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Tristan stuck his head out the break room door and yelled for Toxic.
“Find something for Maria to wear, will you?” he asked when she appeared. “We bought some trousers and sweaters and boots for Oskar. Try that stuff first. If none of it fits, find some of Zoe’s things.”
Toxic’s bottom lip jutted out. “You must be joking. She gets to go, but I can’t?”
“I need you here, monitoring communications.”
“Oh, come on. It’s such a bullshit job!”
Lila recalled the first and last time Toxic had gone out with them. She’d been so frightened when the Wilson militia found them that she’d almost gotten them all pinched.
Toxic didn’t want to go. She just wanted to prove her worth to Tristan. Or perhaps she needed to prove it to herself.
“It’s not a bullshit job,” Lila said. “We need someone fast and efficient to handle communications. Perhaps it’s a bit below your capabilities, but there are too many people doing too many things this afternoon. It’s not like Tristan can coordinate everyone and search too.”
Her expression eased, but not enough.
“It’s not your sibling they took,” Tristan said. “When it is, I promise that I’ll let you come along.”
“I don’t have a sibling.”
“Thank the oracles for that. I couldn’t handle any more of you.” Tristan dug out his palm and waved her off. “Maria, go with Toxic. Don’t take too long.”
Maria ran after the hacker. The break room door slammed against its frame, and their boots thumped upstairs.
“So stealthy,” Tristan said as they returned to the shop. Only Fry and Dixon remained, both standing in the center of the room while Shirley’s crew popped hoods and jacked up cars around them with clicks and creaks and a whoosh.
“Dixon, Fry. I’m putting the girl with you.”
“Who? The mouse?” Fry balked, both men striding over to Tristan’s side.
“Watch over her. Keep her safe, will you?”
The big man laughed, the boom of it echoing off the concrete and metal in the shop. “The shy little thing’s grown some moxie? I didn’t think she’d have it in her.”
“I didn’t either.”
“Is she who I think she is?”
“Probably. Keep her secret. Keep her safe.”
“As if she were my own,” Fry promised, clapping Tristan on the shoulder.
Lila fussed with Dixon’s purple scarf and squeezed his hand, offering him a smile. She wished she could do more, for he’d paled at the knowledge that they’d soon face German mercs, and more specifically, their bullets. She didn’t know if he’d gotten a chance to speak with Tristan the night before about all the things he’d been struggling with, and she didn’t know if he’d gotten a chance to remedy any of his regrets.
Dixon grinned with a bit of bluster he clearly didn’t feel, and encircled her waist in a fearsome hug.
“We’ll have wine tonight,” she whispered in his ear. “All of us.”
