Chapter 33
Brooke
I paused at the top of the stairs, adjusting the collar of my black turtleneck for the fifteenth time that morning. Rav had only mentioned once that no one would care about the scars, but the habit was too hard to break.
“Ready?” he asked as he took my hand.
Such a simple question.
Was I ready for Pompeii? To come face-to-face with the people who’d murdered to steal the Greek Fire formula? Or was I ready to face Rav’s friends and teammates after what he and I had done last night?
I nodded, but only for the Pompeii trip. I was dreading the rest. “We should have been downstairs an hour ago.”
The amphitheater would open at seven, the concert would start at eight, then the fireworks were scheduled for ten. It was already eleven o’clock in the morning, and we were running behind schedule.
He pulled me into his arms and looked into my eyes. “You’ve already earned their respect. Don’t worry about that. The analysts are analyzing, and the operators will operate.”
What was I, though? My Pendragon team was in position at the Martinelli lab that Brie’s team had identified. Rav’s Reynolds team was already meeting downstairs.
And I was playing house with Rav LaPierre.
Last night felt like a distant memory. If the man who’d had me up half the night weren’t standing next to me, I could have convinced myself it was a dream.
The experience still hummed beneath my skin—the way he’d whispered against my ear, the weight of him above me, the unexpected sensations of his hands on my scars.
The scientist in me wanted to document every neurological response, every endorphin release, every oxytocin surge; the woman in me simply wanted to remember.
Both sides of me filed the memories away for later examination, when thousands of lives weren’t hanging in the balance.
He kissed me on the forehead. “Let’s go.”
We descended together, but despite the magnetic pull between us, I tugged my hand free at the first landing.
“Coffee?” Rav asked, nodding toward the kitchen.
“Please.”
As we stepped into the kitchen, my eyes immediately went to the wooden table where we’d started last night.
The memory flashed hot and vivid—my back against the wood, Rav standing between my thighs, both of us too desperate to make it upstairs.
Heat bloomed across my cheeks, and I quickly turned toward the coffee machine.
That table had made an absolute racket.
“Something wrong, Dr. McAllister?” Rav asked, his voice full of faux innocence.
“Just calculating dosage requirements,” I said, focusing intently on the espresso machine’s pressure gauge.
“Interesting. I was thinking about chemical reactions myself.” Rav stepped closer, reaching across me for a mug instead of walking around. “Specifically, the way certain catalysts can accelerate reaction rates.”
I spluttered a laugh and nearly dropped the coffee cup. “Why don’t you leave the chemistry to the professionals, LaPierre?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Would you prefer I discuss how to load a gun? Maybe fire it?”
I bit down on my lip to stop from laughing.
“Morning.” Scarlett’s voice startled me, and I almost dropped the cup again. She wandered in, wearing what were clearly Malcolm’s clothes—an Army T-shirt that hung to mid-thigh and oversized shorts.
I tensed, waiting for the teasing or questions, but Scarlett merely walked to the coffee machine. Why did I expect anything different? This wasn’t the sort of forbidden fraternization that Rav and I had hidden all those years ago. This was orchestrated and even encouraged by his team.
“Triple shot?” she asked, nodding at my cup.
“Long night,” I said before I could stop myself. Or maybe as a thank-you for clearing out of the room.
She smiled but didn’t comment, instead turning to Rav. “Mario’s got some thoughts he wanted to share before heading to the park, and Bobcat’s calling in five. Says they’ve got news.”
“On our way,” Rav said as he shifted into operator mode.
We followed Scarlett into the study, which buzzed with activity. Topographical maps covered every surface; two tablets displayed surveillance footage from under the amphitheater, while a third included a feed from Pendragon.
Drew monitored the underground cameras we’d installed.
Malcolm and Jayce huddled over another monitor, marking coordinates on a digital overlay of Pompeii.
The methodology reminded me of my lab days—multiple data points, cross-referenced and analyzed for patterns.
Except here, the variables weren’t chemical compounds but human actors with unpredictable motivations.
Mario gave Rav a knowing wink. “I told you no woman can resist that shirt.”
My cheeks warmed again, but the team’s easy acceptance of our relationship was a relief. No awkward questions, no pointed remarks—just a seamless integration of this new reality into the operational dynamics.
“Any thoughts on the tunnel access for today?” Rav asked, studying the map in front of us.
Mario pointed to the western edge of the archaeological park.
“I think we should change entry points. You’ve gone in and out from the House of the Arches a few times now, so I want to use the old service tunnel by the Small Theater.
” He traced a path with his finger. “It’s a longer walk through narrower passages, but Fenix wouldn’t think to watch it. ”
Rav nodded. “How much longer to get to the amphitheater from there?”
Mario held out his hands as though weighing items. “An extra hour if you don’t get lost.”
“Are you going to guide us?”
“Of course!”
“What about the surveillance feeds?” Rav asked Drew.
“Still nothing,” Drew replied, frowning at his monitor. “Nothing beyond the regular noise from the tourists since you replaced the batteries yesterday.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Rav muttered. “If Noah told us the truth about tonight, they should be setting up already.”
“Unless they’re bringing everything in at the last minute,” Malcolm suggested. “Minimizes exposure time.”
“Or they’ve changed their plans.” I took a sip of my espresso. If Fenix had changed their plans, we might not have time to figure out the new location.
“Or Noah was lying the entire time.” Rav frowned pointedly at Scarlett.
Setting up chemical deployment systems always took longer than expected, including multiple test runs to ensure containment and proper dispersal patterns. The absence of activity suggested either extraordinarily confident operators or a completely different plan than what we anticipated.
Or utter incompetence, which didn’t fit the stories I’d heard.
Scarlett’s phone rang. She answered and put it on speaker. “You’re on with the team, Bobcat.”
“Ten minutes ago, three trucks left the lab,” Bobcat reported. “All with hazardous contents placards. Two heading west, which could be toward Pompeii, one heading north.”
I exchanged a glance with Rav.
The game was on.
“What kind of surveillance do we have on them?” Rav asked.
“Two-man crews following the westbound trucks. We’ve got a drone on the one heading north.”
“Did you get approval for the drone?” Rav asked, his brow furrowing.
“Small unit,” Bobcat replied. “We’ll keep it low enough to stay off radar. HQ is trying to provision a satellite for better coverage.”
“Satellite?” Will’s voice came through the laptop’s video call. “Brie, we need to launch one of those.”
Scarlett leaned on the table, over the phone. “Those have to be decoys. There’s no way they’d transport Greek Fire with hazard placards. It would be in something nondescript—a Sprinter van at most, probably a pickup truck or something smaller.”
“Agreed,” Rav said. “Noah’s smarter than that.”
Scarlett frowned at him. “Unless Noah’s not involved anymore.”
“What about the lab itself?” I asked.
“I’m watching it,” said Bobcat. “No visual on Martinelli.”
“Did you request authorization for the lab raid?” Rav asked.
“No. After that scientist called in asking questions, I opted to keep things locked down.”
“Keep tracking those trucks,” said Rav. “They’re likely a diversion, but we’ve still got nine hours before the concert starts, so there’s plenty of time for an intercept. Do you have trackers you can put on them?”
“We’re going to set them as soon as we can.”
After Bobcat disconnected, Scarlett turned to the team. “Let’s confirm assignments for tonight. Malcolm and Jayce will be backstage with me as VIP guests. Brie’s hack into the event planner’s system let her add our fake identities to the guest list. I don’t expect any issues there.”
“I’ll be in the audience with the crowd,” said Drew, eliciting a frown from Jayce, who was on her third pastry since we’d started. “I’ll find a seat in the upper rows so I can access the fireworks displays.”
“I’ll get some field test kits for you,” I said. “If they are planning to disperse the powder that way, you’ll only need to swipe one or two of them for a positive result.”
Drew nodded.
Emmett gestured to one of the tablets in the middle of the table. “Zac and I will each be in separate vehicles nearby, ready for transport or exfil, if necessary.”
Zac added, “The park’s too big to circle, so I’ve mapped out some slower-moving and faster-moving streets, as well as several locations that are safe for stops. We’ll never be more than a five-minute run from the amphitheater.”
“Grab the phone and earpiece?” Drew said to Rav, who dug into the large case in the corner, where Will’s drone had been stored.
Rav handed me a phone and a tiny earpiece, both sleek and clearly custom-built. “Your primary comms.”
Brie piped up from the video call. “I programmed a software update so you can switch to Pendragon’s frequency if needed.
You can do it by phone or with the buttons on the earpiece, though they’re a little small.
You can listen to one team or both, but you’ll only be able to talk to one at a time.
If I’d had more advanced warning about this, I could have—”
“It’s perfect,” said Rav.