Page 21 of Sly Like a Fox
She points to several names on the organizational chart, her tone becoming more animated.“They also provide capabilities you might not have.Social infiltration, for instance.These people attend charity galas, business networking events, and exclusive social gatherings.How do you gather intelligence on their personal relationships and private conversations?”
She’s right.My technical skills are excellent for financial surveillance and digital intelligence gathering, but I’ve always struggled with the human intelligence aspects of investigation.Getting close to targets, earning their trust, and accessing information they only share in private social settings feels foreign to me.
I nod, acknowledging the limitation.“It’s been a challenge.”
She turns from the monitor to face me directly, her expression confident.“It wouldn’t be if you had someone who specializes in reading people and adapting to social situations.”
The implication is clear and surprisingly tempting.Her fox shifter instincts make her naturally suited for social manipulation and intelligence gathering.Her background in small-scale cons means she understands operational security and risk management.Most importantly, she seems genuinely interested in bringing down someone who deserves it rather than just seeking personal profit.
I meet her gaze, testing her commitment.“Why would you want to get involved in something like this?”
She moves closer, and her voice drops to a more intimate register.“Because I’m tired of feeling like my skills are wasted on small-time scams that don’t matter.You’re going after someone who actually deserves to be taken down.And because...”She pauses, seeming to choose her words after some deliberation.“Because I think we could be good partners.”
The way she says “partners” suggests multiple levels of meaning, and my thoughts go far beyond professional collaboration.I lean back against the desk, studying her face.“It’s dangerous work.If we’re caught, we’re looking at federal charges and prison time.If Anklor figures out what we’re doing before we have enough evidence to destroy him, we could end up dead.”
She doesn’t flinch or step back.Instead, she moves even closer, resting her hand on the desk beside me.“I understand the risks.Do you understand the opportunity?”
The proximity makes it difficult to focus on operational considerations.“Explain.”
She begins to pace erratically.“You’ve been working this investigation for three years as a lone wolf.How much longer do you think it’ll take to gather enough evidence for a conviction?”
I consider the timeline.“Six months, maybe nine if his security measures get more sophisticated.”
She stops pacing and faces me directly.“What if we could cut that timeline significantly by getting you inside his inner circle, access to his private communications, and intelligence on his personal relationships and business dealings?”
The possibility is tempting beyond measure, not just for operational reasons but because the idea of sharing this burden with someone who understands the stakes makes the mission feel less like a lonely obsession and more like a righteous cause.I push off from the desk, moving to stand closer to her.“You’d be willing to do that?”
Her smile carries both confidence and determination.“I’d be willing to try, but we’d need to establish some ground rules.There has to be complete honesty between us about the operation, shared decision-making on major moves, and exit strategies to protect both of us.”
Her conditions are reasonable and suggest she’s thought this through rather than making an impulsive offer.
I cross my arms, maintaining a professional demeanor despite my growing excitement.“What about compensation?”
She waves a hand dismissively.“I’m not doing this for money, though I wouldn’t say no to enough financial security to stop worrying about rent.”
Fair enough.I can certainly afford to support a partner, especially one whose skills could significantly advance the investigation.I take a deep breath, making another decision to trust her with dangerous information.“There’s something else you should know.My real name isn’t Fenton Nielsen.That identity was created specifically for this investigation.My real name is Finn Nelson, though I don’t expect I’ll ever go back to using it again officially.”
She doesn’t seem surprised or concerned by the revelation.Instead, she tilts her head with obvious curiosity.“That makes sense.Should I call you Finn or Fenton?”
I appreciate her practical approach to the information.“Fenton works fine.I’ve been using it long enough that it feels real.”
She extends her hand toward me, her expression serious but excited.“Okay, Fenton, are we doing this?”
Seeing her standing in my office, surrounded by evidence of years of planning and investigation, the smart play would be to send her home and continue working alone.Partners mean complications, and complications lead to mistakes, but I’m tired of being alone and carrying this burden by myself.
Looking at Jenna, I realize I might have found exactly what I didn’t know I was looking for.I take her hand, noting how perfectly it fits in mine.“We’re doing this.”
Her smile is brilliant and predatory at the same time.She squeezes my hand before releasing it.“Excellent.When do we start?”
I turn back to the monitors, already thinking about how to integrate her skills into my existing operation.“Right now.Let me show you what I’ve learned about Anklor’s social calendar.”
The next three hours pass quickly as I walk her through the investigation, showing her financial records, surveillance photos, and intelligence reports.She asks intelligent questions, offers insightful observations, and suggests several approaches I hadn’t considered.
Her fox shifter instincts prove particularly valuable when analyzing the social dynamics within Anklor’s organization.She points out relationship patterns I’d missed and identifies potential weak points in his inner circle that could be exploited for intelligence gathering.
By the time we break for food, I’m convinced partnering with Jenna might be the best decision I’ve made since starting this mission.
She stretches in the desk chair around midnight, suppressing a yawn.“I should probably head home, but first, can I borrow a shirt?This trench coat is starting to feel ridiculous.”
