Page 135 of Silver Elite

Another shrug.

Got it. I’m on a need-to-know basis.

“Pick whatever clothes you want,” she tells us. “But keep your cover in mind and dress accordingly.”

Despite appearing incredibly unhappy, Bryce selects one of the skimpiest dresses I’ve ever seen, which has me wondering about her undercover identity. Maybe her complaints are warranted.

“Will we have our weapons?” she asks, examining the silky fabric. “I won’t be able to carry a gun in this.”

“You’ll get a small knife. Should be able to secure a garter sheath under there.”

“A small knife? That’s it?” Bryce is growing increasingly upset. “How do we defend ourselves?”

“What do you think we’ve been trying to teach you for the last month? You’ll have a knife and your fists. That’s it. Now are you donegriping about every godfucking thing or do I need to hold your hand some more?”

Bryce flattens her lips. It’s painfully obvious that Struck doesn’t like her.

“Are you supervising both of us?” I ask as I flip through hangers.

Struck shakes her head. “You’ve been assigned to Hadley.”

Ugh. Great. I turn my head so she can’t see me making a face.

While I’m sifting through the racks trying to find a suitable outfit, she gets an alert on her comm and steps out of the room to check it. When she returns, her eyes gleam with amusement.

“I spoke too soon,” she tells me. “You’ve been reassigned.”

“To who?” I ask suspiciously.

“Who do you think?”

—

I’m alone in the back of a sleek black car, being driven to an unknown destination. As the lights of the city streak past the window, my wariness mounts. I have no idea where I’m going or what I’m doing. The only certainty at the moment is the backstory I memorized earlier.

“Broken Dove, copy?”

Ford’s voice fills my ear, courtesy of Lieutenant Hirai’s prized earpiece.

“Fuck off,” I growl. “I want a different call sign.”

He chuckles. “Take that up with the captain.”

“All right, and where is he, exactly? Because I was told he’s my handler, yet I’m sitting alone in this car with no idea what I’m supposed to do.”

“He’ll be in the field with you, but I’m the one running the op. So would you like to hear your objective, or do you want to keep whining?”

What does he mean, Cross will be in the field with me? The lack of details is making my skin itch.

When the car comes to an abrupt stop, I jump in my seat. I peer out the tinted window. We seem to be in an alley.

“Your op site is called Haven. Owned by a woman named Shenise Nelson. It’s an illegal brothel masking itself as city lodgings with a pub downstairs.”

“If you know it’s a brothel, why haven’t you shut it down?”

“Sometimes it’s more advantageous to leave the criminals be. Nelson’s a low-level threat and good for intel when we need it.”

“So I’m hitting her up for intel? What do I need to find out?”

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