Page 146 of Elven Crown

“Speaking of which,” Zida croaked before clearing her throat and centering her gaze on Maxwell, “is there anything else I need to be made aware of personally, Hannigan?”

His silver eyes found the healer in the crowd, he looked her over once, then he shook his head. “Not for now.”

The healer dipped her head in acknowledgement, then her black gaze swung sideways to fix on Rebecca again.

At first, Rebecca thought the old woman was trying to make a statement, as if that single glance were telling her something like,“Now I’m off to tend to a patient who respects my expertise and actually stays put when I tell her to.”

In her mind, Rebecca heard the healer’s words all too clearly—and all the attitude that came with them.

But when Zida didn’t roll her eyes or snort or even leave the common room to tend to Nyx, Rebecca realized it had to be something else.

That look didn’t contain only condescension and exasperation. Zida also looked like she was waiting for permission, albeit begrudgingly.

Permission from Rebecca.

No, she realized with a shock of clarity that made her feel particularly dense.

Permission from the Thon-Da’al to be excused from the emergency briefing so the healer could do what she did best elsewhere.

Recognizing her unexpected part in this, Rebecca pressed her lips together and dismissed Zida with a curt nod before returning her attention to Maxwell.

The healer turned and shuffled down the hallway and out of view.

When Rebecca found Maxwell staring at her now, he looked surprised to see her here at all, like he hadn’t expected her to show up after setting off that alarm siren. His silver eyes widened, and he tilted his head.

Then he seemed to remember where they were and why, and that small change in his expression disappeared again beneath his normal stony apathy bordering on disapproval.

The emergency briefing wasn’t over yet.

“The attackers’ identities have yet to be confirmed,” Maxwell stated, “though there’s more than sufficient reason to believethe ambush was ordered, if not directly carried out, by someone who’d been expecting a shipment of Eduardo’s weapons they never received.”

“You mean thegriybrekiattacked our people?” another operative asked.

“Unknown,” Maxwell replied. “It could have been, though in my personal opinion, Eduardo isn’t smart enough to have tracked us down and waited for the right moment to strike back.

“It’s far more likely that this came from a client or contact, whoever Eduardo had sold the weapons to. Someone who figured they’d take matters into their own hands when Eduardo and his griybreki failed to deliver.”

“Wait, but how did anyone know it was us?” That sounded like Archie. “There’s no way even Eduardo could have gotten that intel. Not this quickly. His convoy never made it off the docks, right?”

“One or two did.” Titus’s thunderous voice boomed across the room, and bodies turned toward the enormous vuulbor standing a full head taller than the next tallest person among them. “Couldn’t be helped.”

“That being said,” Maxwell added, “this isn’t the kind of intel any griybreki from the docks would have had. Information about this small team carrying out a routine transport mission tonight. That’s difficult information to find.”

“Then what exactly are you trying to tell us happened?” asked the flighty witch from the library whose name Rebecca still couldn’t recall. “Do you even know?”

“Right now, we can only speculate, but this is what I think. Either we are being watched closely by someone with unauthorized access to Shade operations and movement, or the enemy behind this assault tonight made a shot in the dark and got lucky.”

Maxwell’s next low growl rumbling through the ensuing silence was terrifying. “For all I care, the son of a bitch who did this can keep the weapons. What matters is this unidentified enemy has three of our operatives, is holding them captive, and we’re going to get them back.”

Look at that. This wasn’t just a middle-of-the-night meeting to spoil the mood in the compound with particularly bad news. This was a briefing for a rescue mission.

“Intel and logistics have already tracked and confirmed the location of two cell phones in our team’s possession. We’ve made several attempts to contact them, but no calls were answered, and we haven’t yet received any replies. Which means those cell phones are still on and our operatives are unable to get to them. That’s all I’m willing to consider, because anything else is speculation and doesn’t help us.”

After a deep inhale through his nose, Maxwell widened his stance with a single step, clasped his hands behind his back, and nodded. “I’m taking a five-man team with me on this tonight. Everyone else hangs back to run intel support from headquarters. Scouring the web and call centers. Tapping human police scanners. Combing through every dark-web site for news of our people or the ambush or what might have happened.

“You all know where to look. Focus on the fringe sites and communities. Something’s bound to pop up there eventually. If you see anything we might recognize, you report it directly to Rick.”

Beside Maxwell, the blackhorn grunted, his expression mirroring the Head of Security’s determination.

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