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“What about her?” I said, pointing to Verity’s ring still nestled in the box.

“You too,” said Nem, nudging her.

Verity’s eyes met mine, then her gaze returned to the ring. The look of distaste on her face nearly made me laugh. Knowing how much she’d hate having to do the same, I resolved to wear mine twenty-four seven and give her plenty of shit if she didn’t. Like Nem, I nudged her.

“Sod off,” she said under her breath, removing the multi-carat diamond ring from the box.

“May I?” I asked, opening my palm.

“Not on your life,” she responded, all but jamming it on her finger. “You’re such an arsehole,” she added when I threw my head back and laughed at her reaction.

“Your plane departs out of Gatwick at seventeen hundred. It’s a two-hour flight to Zurich. From there, you’ll be transported via helicopter to St. Moritz. Reaper, who will be undercover at the resort as an American on holiday, will provide any backup and support you need. He’ll travel with you as far as Zurich, where alternate transportation has been arranged to take him to the resort.

“When you arrive, you’ll be met by two agents—Lars Persson, code name Macht, and Prisca Baur, code name Schön. Both are mid-level agents with Switzerland’s Strategic Intelligence Service. Schön has been recommended to fill one of the open slots left in your task force, Zeppelin. This assignment will give you time to get to know her and determine if she’ll be a good fit.”

I was down two agents on my team. Conor “Rogue” Kincaid and Anouk “Ehren” Richter had recently transitioned to Magnet’s Albanian task force to replace Frick “Zig” Ziegler and Drita “Qetë” Hoffman, who were killed during an op that took place in the Straits of Tiran, not far off the coast of Sharm el-Sheikh. Many agents had almost lost their lives that night, myself included.

When I heard Nemesis say my name, I snapped back from my thoughts. “Yes, apologies. What did you say?”

“Both agents are undercover, working in guest services at the resort where you’ll stay for the duration of the op. Macht is quite familiar with the region, St. Moritz specifically. Schön speaks fluent French, Swiss German, traditional German, and English. Any questions?”

I had several, starting with whether Nemesis was sure teaming me up with Verity was a sound decision.

At present, Reaper was the only agent remaining on my team. Unless Nemesis intended for Verity to join at the conclusion of this op. If that was her plan, it would be over my dead body.

“Who suggested Schön for my task force?”

“Baissier.”

Admittedly, I was surprised Nem had agreed to a recommendation from the French ambassador to the United Nations—particularly on my behalf.

Henri “Baissier” Marchand was responsible for forming the international organization’s coalition against human trafficking. It consisted of five task forces, coinciding with the current security council. While I was from the UK and employed by Military Intelligence, Section 6, I’d been named commander of the Swiss task force, given the size of their intelligence team made it difficult for them to spare anyone on my level.

Magnet, also an MI6 agent, was the commander of the Albanian team for the same reason.

The other three task forces were from the UK, the US, and Malta.

After the unprecedented success of its first mission, Nemesis, then-commander of the UK team, was promoted to head of the coalition. That hadn’t stopped Baissier from sticking his nose in far more often than Nem would’ve liked, given the man’s career was in diplomacy,notintelligence.

“Oh my God,” I heard Verity groan. I glanced at the photo on Nem’s laptop.

“Is that Schön?” I asked, my eyes nearly popping out of my head.

“Do attempt to restrain yourself, Zeppelin. It would hardly do for you to be seen cheating on your new bride the same day we arrive on our honeymoon,” Verity practically growled at me.

Without question, getting into Schön’s pants would be tempting. She was beautiful, and those breasts—Lord, help me.

Verity folded her arms, unwittingly making it difficult for me not to ogle hers too. “You cannot possibly believe this is going to work,” she said to Nemesis.

“I have every confidence in your shared professionalism,” she responded before returning to her laptop. “Briefs outlining your objectives and undercover personas have been forwarded to Reaper and the two of you. You’ll have time to review them on the flight. Magnet will transport you to Gatwick at sixteen hundred.”

“I need a fucking drink,”I said, approaching Magnet after Nem dismissed us. “Too bad there’s no time for us to hit the pub.”

Mag put his hand on my shoulder. “We can hit the bottle in the kitchen instead.”

“I knew there was a reason you’re my best mate,” I mumbled as I followed him out of one room and into another. “What the fuck am I gonna do, Mag?”

He poured two fingers for each of us, then raised his glass. “Figure out how the hell you’re gonna keep your hands off her.”

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