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“Thank God,” Verity whispered.
I read the message from Nem confirming they had and that he appeared unharmed. As we’d, or at least I’d, suspected, it was Puck who’d kidnapped him.
“There’s a message from Ares too.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“He said Z is refusing to press charges. In fact, he demanded Decker remove the handcuffs he’d slapped on Puck.”
“I’m sure there’s an explanation. Nemesis said Z has requested everyone meet at his townhouse. It’s a two-hour drive from where they are now. She also said that once the meeting concludes, she’ll send a brief.”
“Copy that. In the meantime, do you want to get out of here for a bit?” I suggested.
“Absolutely. I feel as though if I don’t, I’ll crawl out of my skin.”
I’d trust my gut regardless, but since Verity seemed as troubled as I, it multiplied my uneasiness about this op. Something seemed off, and it wasn’t just the situation with Schön.
“However, we have the meeting with Macht and Reaper,” she reminded me.
“I’ll tell them something’s come up. No doubt, Reaper received the same message from Nemesis.”
“Right. Before we go anywhere, we should change your appearance a bit too.”
“Why?” I asked after sending the text.
“You’re too recognizable.”
“Some of the resort staff have already seen me. Is it really necessary?”
“You were part of the op on Gozo, Zeppelin. We’re in St. Moritz to follow the money that, in part, came from Mithras. Whoever he and Pharaoh were working with may very well have seen you either at the villa when we initially rescued the twenty victims, during the search for Bexli, or when Mithras kidnapped Francesca Vella and Xavier killed him.”
I was about to say they would’ve seen her too, but right now, she looked nothing like she had when we’d conducted the three ops she mentioned.
“As far as the resort staff who have already seen you, I’m only suggesting minor changes to your appearance. As long as you wear a hat and glasses, they won’t notice.”
Verity motioned to a chair, and I took a seat. She pulled a brush and black powder out of a box that sat on the table beside me.
“What is that?” I asked.
“I’m going to darken your hair.”
First, she slicked it back, then she dipped the brush into the powder. I barely felt her touch my head with it before I saw her put it away.
She rummaged through the box and pulled out a glasses case. “Here,” she said, handing me a pair that looked similar to those Clark Kent wore before he transformed into Superman.
“That should be good enough for now. Just be sure to wear your hat and scarf as well.”
“I was afraid you were going to make me wear a prosthetic nose.”
“Yours isn’t that remarkable.”
I scoffed.
“Your hair and eyes are more noticeable. Well, and these.” She put her hand on my upper arm and squeezed. “It’s easier to add than it is to take away.”
“Which explains this.” I waved my hand in front of her breasts.
“I figured you’d prefer them this way.”
