Page 40 of Lay It Bare
His deux was very thorough. There was almost nothing for Sevastyan to add. All he needed to do was slot himself into the role Ellisandre had mapped for him. It had been years since he’d been able to be a foot soldier under a trusted leader, and the ease that ran through his shoulders and down into his limbs as Ellisandre walked through the entrances, exits, vehicles, and surveillance systems was as good as standing under hot water holding Rei. It made something inside warm, soft, and pleased.
“Gods, I love working with you,” Ellisandre murmured, after Sevastyan recited street names and window entrances from memory after only one review.
Sevastyan smirked. He was good. It had been a long time since anyone had got to see how good he was, except for Rei. But Rei didn’t hand out praise like that. Nor would it have meant the same thing.
Ellisandre disappeared into the bedroom and came back with two small tactical packs. They tossed one to Sevastyan. “Check it out. Should have everything needed. Tell me if you want any other tools. I probably have them.”
“One would think you still work for Europol,” Sevastyan joked.
Ellisandre raised an eyebrow.
Well, shit. Maybe they still did. Or not.
Sevastyan knelt and opened the case on the floor, hands running over the contents. Compact and high quality, it was more than satisfactory. The lock-picking set was of a good size and weight. The cuffs wouldn’t succumb to common methods of escape. The roll of duct tape was a nice touch. The collapsible baton was not heavy but whippy. It would do the job without creating a lot of additional weight. He flipped the two knives around, assessing how they balanced in his hands, and nodded, pleased.
Ellisandre pointed to the map. “We’ll take the Pedway in two different directions and meet here. That’s where the first car is. The van is already parked and waiting.”
“And the van is for the extraction, delivering, and initial get away.”
Ellisandre nodded. “We’ll ditch it after. It’ll be stripped for parts by morning. Here, get changed. When we’re done, we can come back here and celebrate.”
Sevastyan started to pull off his sweater, raising an eyebrow.
Ellisandre made a come-hither gesture and walked towards the kitchen. Sevastyan followed, stripping his upper layers. Ellisandre opened the fridge and pointed to a cake. It was covered in white frosting and dotted with preserved cherries. There was a bottle of champagne beside it. Like the American Valentine’s Day a couple of weeks early.
Sevastyan grinned.
