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She growled. "I swear, you’re such a pain in my ass."
I was. And she was in mine.
Jeez, I’d missed her.
Smirking at my screen, I murmured, "I’m just pulling your leg. I actually meant that I’m sorry for not taking into account how you’d be the public face of all this. I never... I just figured outing them this way would protect you. I was myopic, and it almost got you killed." My father would be so ashamed of me for not looking out for her more.
"Star, I’m a journalist. We put ourselves in danger all the time. It’s what we do. The truth is perilous, but it’s our duty to uphold it."
"You sound like Captain America."
"I’d make that outfit look so much better."
"Than Steve Rogers?" I snickered. "Yeah, if you say so."
Softly, she chuckled. "Honestly, Star, it’s all good. I knew I was putting myself in harm’s way; that was why I holed up in my apartment. I just didn’t think they’d get into my building like that."
"No, it came as quite a shock all round." Conor wasn’t the only one taken aback at how they’d gotten in. "Problem was, they went old school."
"Meaning?"
"Security footage shows the intruder pretending to be a delivery man. The doorman got up, let him in, got clocked on the head for his pains and stabbed." I heaved a sigh because it was always the innocent who suffered. "The bastard stole his key cards and his passes, then headed for your floor with them. Conor’s men looked at the door, and all four locks were picked."
"So it was a low tech home invasion?"
"Pretty much."
"Ironic considering I had a termite temple for a phone."
"Right?" I scoffed. "How dare they?"
"This phone... is it really secure?"
"Yep. As secure as the Pentagon."
"I know they killed the guy."
"As they should have."
She heaved a sigh. "Do you have any information on them?"
"What kind of information?" I hedged.
"You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?"
"Nope." I laughed when she growled. "There’s no need for you to know. Leave it to the people who don’t mind getting their hands bloody, Savannah. You just focus on the exposés. That’s where you’ll make the most difference.
"Speaking of which, I was thinking... their attack deserves a response."
"Yeah?" she asked warily.
"Yeah." My tone was firm. "Let’s drop them faster than we were going to. Let’s get their faces and names splashed everywhere. And, while you’re at it, let’s go nuclear."
"You want me to drop DeLaCroix’s name? I thought we were saving that as the grand finale?"
"We were. But this just moved the goalposts. Let’s drop his on the 25th." I smiled with delight at the chaos that was about to ensue over my least favorite holiday of the year. "Let’s destroy Christmas, huh?"
"Grinch," she grumbled.
