Page 93 of The Eagle's Vault

Isaac’s hand brushed against Leigh’s arm, a soft, brotherly gesture. “I knew you could do it.”

A grunt came over the line, then the sound of a struggle. My heart pounded in my chest.

Jayce, more winded than I’d heard her in some time, said, “I’m circling around, Rav.”

Combat sounded over the line, punctuated by the occasional swear, mostly in French. I’d seen Rav in a few fights over the years. He was more likely to diffuse a situation than escalate it, but when he did, no one ever took him down.

Scarlett provided another update. “The other man’s in pursuit of the drone and Will’s guided him away from the original path. If you are going to leave, now’s the perfect time.”

My gaze shifted back to Leigh. She was talking to Brie and Daniel about fluid dynamics. She was confident, strong. How much time did she need?

I cupped a hand over my mouth, so no one in the room would hear. “What about the police?”

Isaac spun to look at me. So much for secrecy. “Police? Where?”

I held up a finger to hold him off. “If they’re at the main building, we still can’t leave that way.”

“You can,” said Scarlett. “Considering your gear, we can construct a cover story easily.”

“How’s it coming, Leigh?” I asked.

She raised my phone toward the door. “Do you see it, Brie?”

“I do.”

Leigh was in her own world. Focused. Brilliant. Working seamlessly with my team and too engrossed in her examination of the vault door to hear anything Isaac and I were talking about.

I couldn’t help but smile at that. This was what she needed to forget about the chaos, about being kidnapped. It was a similar feeling to the one I’d found with my first lock.

Memories of my teenage years flashed back, to the collection of salvaged and purchased locks hidden away in my closet. Whenever I was upset, I’d retreat there, pulling out the set of lockpicks Scarlett had gifted me, passed down from her mother. In a world of unpredictable variables, the locks were a constant, a binary equation of locked or unlocked. It wasn’t like the swim meets I lost, which my parents nitpicked and criticized. It wasn’t the math tests where I fell short of perfection by a measly five percent.

The locks, they were a sanctuary, a place where I found tranquility in the midst of reality’s messiness. Even now, I couldn’t imagine doing anything that didn’t involve their mystery, their truth, their clarity.

Leigh was the same. Her focus. Nothing but the puzzle existing. We both found our peace in the challenges, in the riddles. I used to think it made me lesser, that I wasn’t as good as whoever my parents were comparing me to. Scarlett and Rav had always reassured me growing up. Anyone who judged me for being less than perfect, they said, wasn’t worth stressing over. It was a lesson that had stayed with me, and now, under the harsh work lights, watching my woman—shewasmy woman, and this proved it—I truly understood it.

“Isaac.” I gestured for him to join me. “We’ve almost got one man down. When the other gets back, I’ll retreat into the hallway, so he doesn’t suspect anything. Then you and I can take him down. Can you help with that?”

A vein throbbed in his forehead. “That’s your plan? Beat up one of the massive men with the gun?”

“Can you do that?”

“Yeah.” He straightened, like it could convince me.

Inside, I crossed my fingers. Hopefully, Rav would show before I had to face off against anyone.

Leigh said, “A dodecahedron has twelve sides, right? And each side is a pentagon.”

Jayce whooped in my ear. “The champion and still undefeated—Rav LaPierre!”

Relief washed over me at the familiar sound of zip ties and Rav threatening the thug to stay down.

“It’s not the one with the scar,” said Rav. “But he also has a phoenix tattoo.”

“We’ve taken out Pavel,” I said to the room. “Scar, how are we doing with the other guy?”

“He’s lagging,” Scarlett said. “Jayce, I’ll need you to do your thing again. Be careful—I think he’s the smarter of the two.”

“I’m always careful.”

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