Chapter 42 | Kincade
She stood there a moment longer, as if trying to decide what to do next.
“Okay, well,” she said, “the bathroom looks like a disaster zone, so I better clean it up.”
“Told you.”
She snorted.
And then she disappeared back down the hall and into the bathroom.
I remained where I was, the caustic scent of hair color lingering in the air where she’d stood.
And something fainter—lavender soap. Her natural honey scent. All mixed into one heady aroma that was wholly her.
Black.
Not that I preferred it. I remembered it.
For one suspended moment, she wasn’t stitched together by prophecy and trauma and violence. She looked like herself. Like the woman I first saw beneath the garish glow of a portico so many months ago. Armed with apprehension and sarcasm and nothing more.
Before the world took more from her than it deserved.
Before she would alter everything I thought I knew about myself.
I turned back to the table and the plan that would either save her—or damn us both.
Ludwig and Ulrich returned the following day mid-morning carrying updated intel.
She’d been standing on the balcony watching the world, still, waiting, calm. When they arrived, they both looked her over, noting her changed appearance.
Ulrich said nothing. Merely took it in stride.
“Better,” Ludwig said with a nod.
She gave him her best flat expression and bit back a retort. But I let the bond open long enough to catch the thought beneath her expression. As if I needed your approval.
“We move tonight,” Ludwig announced, moving to the table and spreading out the new documents.
“That soon?” she asked. Her voice was calm. Steady. She sounded ready.
“Knights will be shifting equipment into the facility in the morning,” Ulrich said. “It’s our best window.”
Ludwig spread blueprints across the table. Ulrich added surveillance photos. Guard positions, shift rotations, entry points marked in red.
I moved closer. She followed, positioning herself beside me.
“Server room is here,” Ulrich said, tapping the blueprint. “Sub-level two. Three access points, but only one doesn’t trigger secondary alerts.”
“Guard coverage?” I asked.
“Rotating patrol. Six-hour shifts. Tonight’s crew is smaller—four instead of six. Two exterior, two interior.”
Ludwig leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “And they’ll be distracted. Equipment delivery means loading dock activity, paperwork, signatures. Eyes elsewhere.”
“How long do we have?” she asked.
“Thirty minutes,” Ulrich said. “Forty if we’re lucky.”
“That’s not much time,” she said.
Ludwig’s mouth curved. “You’d be surprised what we can accomplish in thirty minutes.”
I shot him a look.
He raised his hands. “Professionally speaking.”
She ignored him entirely.
“What about the data?” she asked, leaning over the blueprint. “How do we confirm we’ve destroyed everything?”
“Thermite,” Ulrich said. “Burns through server racks completely. Nothing recoverable.”
“And backups?” Her focus was sharp. Absolute.
“Cloud storage is isolated on a separate system,” Ludwig said. “We’ll need physical access to wipe it before we burn the servers.”
“How long does the wipe take?” she asked.
“Five minutes or less,” he said.
“And if there’s a backup we don’t know about?” Her gaze flicked up to his, then mine.
Ulrich and Ludwig exchanged a glance.
“There’s always that risk,” Ulrich admitted.
She straightened. “I need to see the server room myself. Confirm what’s there.”
“That puts you inside,” Ludwig said, and for once his tone was serious. No flirtation. Fact. “You sure about that?”
“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t look at me for permission.
“Then you’re with me,” I said.
Ludwig tilted his head, studying her. “You know, most people would want to stay in the van for their first infiltration.”
“I’m not most people,” she said.
His smile returned—brief, genuine. “No. You’re not.”
I watched him watch her. Saw the moment he caught himself and redirected his attention back to the blueprints.
“Roles,” I said, bringing focus back. “Ulrich, you’re on comms and extraction. Ludwig—”
“Perimeter and interference,” he finished. “I know the drill.”
“She and I go in through the maintenance entrance here.” I traced the route on the blueprint. “Service elevator to sub-level two. Five minutes to reach the server room.”
“Guards?” she asked.
“Two. We handle them,” I said.
“And if it’s not quiet?” she asked.
“Then Ludwig creates a diversion,” I said. “Pulls attention away from our exit route.”
“So, you don’t want me handling them?” she said, one brow lifted.
Silence descended.
“You can handle them?” Ludwig asked, eyeing her with curiosity. And newfound respect.
“No,” I said. “Not this time.”
She frowned. Not arguing, but not happy about being sidelined.
“Well, I’m excellent at diversions,” Ludwig said. “You’ll be perfectly safe with him. He’s protective.”
The last word carried enough emphasis to be deliberate.
She gave him a flat look. “This isn’t my first day with him. I noticed.”
“Hard not to.” His smile widened fractionally. “The man practically growls.”
I stared. He saw.
He held up his hands again. “Just making an observation.”
“Make it elsewhere.”
“Noted.” But he was still smiling.
She shook her head. Amused despite herself.
Ulrich cleared his throat. “Equipment. We’ll need comms, breaching tools, thermite charges—”
“I’ll handle the charges,” Ludwig said. “Ulrich, you’ve got the technical gear?”
“Already packed.”
“Weapons?” he asked.
“In the van,” Ulrich confirmed.
She was quiet now, studying the blueprints with an intensity that said she was memorizing every line. Every exit. Every potential complication.
Planning her own contingencies.
She traced the route from entrance to server room with one finger. “What happens if the elevator is disabled?”
“Stairs. Here and here.” I showed her the backup routes. “Adds three minutes.”
“And if both are blocked?”
“We make our own exit.”
Her eyes met mine. A hint of a smile. “You mean we get those RPGs?”
“If you want RPGs, then, yes.”
“You spoil me,” she said. “Don’t disappoint me.”
Ludwig chuckled. “Oh, I really like her.”
I looked at him. “Make it happen. And knock it off.”
“I’m just saying—”
“I have RPGs on the list,” Ulrich said, interjecting.
He spread his hands, still grinning. “Can’t help myself. She’s got that whole competent and dangerous thing going. It’s attractive.”
She looked at him. “You’re flirting with disaster, aren’t you?”
“I appreciate quality when I see it.”
“Stop talking, Charming,” she said. Brief annoyance flickered over her face.
He laughed, then straightened. The smile remained, but the flirtation dropped away.
“Right. Focus. Mission. Got it.”
Ulrich sighed. “Are you two finished?”
“For now,” Ludwig said.
She returned her attention to the blueprints, but I caught the slight curve of her mouth.
She was enjoying this more than she’d admit.
I closed the bond—not to shut her out, but to steady myself.
Because once we moved, everything I was planning would be tested.