Chapter 23 Paul Six Days #2
The words hang in the air. An acknowledgment that, for all our planning, all our preparation, success isn't guaranteed.
Failure might mean leaving Vivianne behind.
"That won't happen." My voice is quiet but certain. "We're getting her out."
"Your confidence is touching." Jenny's tone is dry. "But confidence doesn't stop bullets."
"Neither does pessimism."
For a moment, we stare at each other. Then her mouth quirks—not quite a smile, but close.
"Fair point. Alright, people. Final equipment check, then get some rest. Tomorrow we start surveillance runs.
I want to know every car that comes and goes from that estate, every delivery truck, every pattern we can exploit. "
The team disperses. Mac and Blaze huddle over the security details. Jon, Brett, and Charlie review the catering schedule. Forest and CJ confer quietly in the corner.
I stay at the table, staring at the holographic estate.
Somewhere in that maze of wealth and privilege, Vivianne is trapped.
Counting down to a wedding she doesn't want.
To a life she never chose. Which brings up memories of Catherine and the job where everything went wrong.
We lost Catherine that day. Buried her a week later.
Six months after that, we lost Nicholas after his trial.
"You're thinking about Catherine."
I don't turn at Merlin's voice. He knows me too well. "How did you guess?"
"Because I'm thinking about her too." He moves beside me, his reflection ghostly in the holographic light. "About all the ways that job went wrong. All the signs we missed."
"We're not missing signs this time." I finally look at him. Really look. The lines around his eyes have deepened over the past month. The silver in his hair, catching the blue light, makes him look older. Tired. "We're going to save her, Merlin. And we're getting the Swan back."
Something flickers across his face. "Paul—"
"Don't." I shake my head. "We can do both."
"Can we?" His voice is soft. Sad. "Or is that what we told ourselves in Florence?"
The question sits between us. Heavy. Damning.
"This is different." But even as I say it, I'm not sure I believe it.
"Is it?"
Before I can answer, Jenny's voice cuts through the room. "De Gaulle. Merlin. Conference room. Now."
We follow her through a door I hadn't noticed—clever camouflage built into the farmhouse's rustic paneling. The space beyond is small, windowless, soundproofed. A room built for secrets.
Sam and Forest are already inside, standing with arms crossed. The easy camaraderie from earlier is gone, replaced by something harder. More dangerous.
"Sit." Jenny doesn't make it a request.
We sit.
She remains standing, looming over us in a clearly intentional way. Establishing dominance. Control. "Before we go any further, there's something we need to discuss. Your agenda."
My stomach tightens. "What agenda?"
"Don't insult our intelligence." Forest's voice is cold. "You're not here just to save Vivianne. You're after something else. Something you think is in that house."
"I find that comment insulting. Vivianne is my priority." Merlin and I exchange glances. How much do we tell them? How much do they already know?
"The Swan pendant." Sam leans against the wall, casual. But his eyes are sharp. Alert. "A ruby the size of a quail's egg. Stolen in World War II. Missing ever since."
"Until Paul painted it around Vivianne's neck." Jenny's gaze locks onto mine. "Painted her wearing something she'd never seen before. Something that just happens to match her grandmother's earrings. Earrings that came from a matching set."
"We did our homework." CJ crosses his arms. "The question is—did you think we wouldn't?"
The silence stretches. Taut. Dangerous.
"Yes." Merlin's voice is calm. Steady. "We're after the pendant. It belonged to someone I loved. Someone who died because of it. I want it back."
"And that won't compromise the mission?" Jenny's tone makes it clear what she thinks of that idea.
"It won't—"
"Bullshit." Sam pushes off the wall. "You're telling me that if you have to choose between grabbing that pendant and getting Vivianne out safely, you'll pick Vivianne every time? No hesitation?"
The question hangs in the air.
I open my mouth. Close it. Because the truth is, I don't know. I'll choose Vivianne every time. Merlin, however, wants the Swan. That pendant represents everything he lost. Everything that was stolen from him.
But Vivianne—
"Yes." The word comes out stronger than I feel. "Vivianne comes first. Always."
"And you?" Jenny's attention shifts to Merlin. "Can you make that same promise?"
For a long moment, Merlin remains silent. When he speaks, his voice is rough. Raw. "I've already lost everyone I loved for that pendant. I won't lose anyone else."
It's not exactly a yes. But it's close enough.
Jenny studies us both. Measuring. Weighing. Finally, she nods. "Alright. But understand this—if you do anything that puts Vivianne or my team at risk, I will personally ensure you regret it. Are we clear?"
"Crystal."
"Good." She moves to the door. Pauses. "One more thing. Vivianne's father—Henry Faulks. What's your read on him?"
I think about the man who controlled every aspect of Vivianne's life. Who arranged her marriage like a business transaction. Who values legacy and power over his daughter's happiness.
"Dangerous." The word feels inadequate. "He'll do whatever it takes to maintain control."
"His purpose being?"
"Sentinel." Merlin speaks before I can. "An organization we know almost nothing about. Only that it's old, powerful, and the Faulks family has been part of it for generations."
Jenny's expression shifts. Something flickers there—recognition? Concern? It's gone before I can identify it.
"Sentinel." She repeats the word like a curse. "Well. That complicates things."
"You've heard of it?" I lean forward.
"If Henry Faulks is part of Sentinel, if that's what's driving this marriage..." She trails off. Thinks. "We need to adjust our approach. Be even more careful."
"How much more careful can we be?"
"You'd be surprised." Her smile is grim. "Now get some rest. Tomorrow, we start surveillance."
We file out. The war room has mostly emptied—just Mitzy still tinkering with equipment, her rainbow hair bent over circuit boards and micro-electronics.
I make my way to the room they've assigned me. Small. Spartan. A bed, a desk, a window overlooking dark fields.
Sleep won't come. I know it won't. So I sit by the window, staring out at nothing, thinking about Vivianne.
Six days.
In six days, I'll see her again. Touch her. Hold her.
Or I'll lose her forever.
The door opens quietly. I don't turn—I already know it's Merlin from the weight of his footsteps.
"Can't sleep either?"
"Not even close."
He settles into the room's only chair with a soft grunt. We sit in comfortable silence for a while, two men bound by blood and loss and stolen art.
"Paul." His voice breaks the quiet. "What Jenny said about choosing. About prioritizing Vivianne over the pendant."
"I meant it."
"I know you did. But I also know you." A pause. "You're thinking you can do both. Save her and retrieve what was stolen. That you're clever enough, fast enough, lucky enough to pull off both objectives."
I don't answer because he's right.
"Catherine thought that too." His voice goes rough. "Thought she could get the Caravaggio and get out clean. We all did."
"This isn't Florence."
"No. It's worse." He moves to the window beside me. "Florence was a heist. This is a rescue from people who won't hesitate to hurt Vivianne if they think it serves their purposes. And you want to add recovering the Swan on top of that?"
"The pendant is important—and this may be our only chance to retrieve it."
"Agreed. But the pendant is an object." He turns to face me. "Vivianne is a woman. The woman you love. Don't let me lose someone else I care about because I couldn't let go of the past."
The words hit like a blow. Physical. Stunning.
"I can do both." But even to my ears, it sounds hollow.
"Maybe." He moves to the door. Pauses with his hand on the handle. "Or maybe you'll have to choose. And when that moment comes—when you're standing in that house with seconds to decide—make sure you choose right."
He leaves. The door clicks shut. And I'm alone with my thoughts.
With the truth I don't want to face.
I stare out at the darkness, and for the first time since this all began, I wonder if I can do this. If I'm strong enough to make the right choice when it matters.
The hologram flickers to life on the desk—Mitzy must have left a portable unit. The Faulks estate rotates slowly, its walls glowing soft blue.
Somewhere in there, Vivianne is counting down the hours.
Waiting for rescue.
Trusting me to choose her.
I reach out, my fingers passing through the holographic walls. Grasping at nothing.
Please let me be strong enough.
But in the reflection on my window, I'm not sure I recognize the man staring back.