Page 57 of Undercover Shadow
HOST: James Dalgleish
ATTENDEES: High-value targets confirmed. Guest list includes Ian MacKenzie andinternational arms dealers Vadim Karpov, Hassan Al-Rashid, and Chen Wei.
ASSESSMENT: Optimal window. Dalgleish’s network exposed, vulnerable. Primary targets in one location. Recommend immediate action.
NOTE: CRITICAL TIMELINE - Guest list locks tomorrow 1200 hours. After that, infiltration impossible. You have until then to decide.
This was it. The opportunity we needed. Several of our targets would be gathered in one place, at a charity gala I could infiltrate as a guest.
From Damascus to London—every lead had brought me here. To the people responsible for my brother’s death.
If I brought this to Tag, he’d shut it down immediately. He’d insist on going himself, even though he’d be recognized instantly in those circles—the Earl of Glenshadow, who’d moved through aristocratic events his entire life. Or he’d refuse the op entirely.
The promise he’d made to Idris would ensure that.
I was perfect for this assignment. Unknown in aristocratic circles, trained for infiltration, fluent in the social languages required to move through a charity gala undetected. I could get close to Dalgleish and MacKenzie and their buyers, and maybe even gather what we needed to dismantle their entire operation.
Tag wouldn’t be able to do the same. Nor could Con or Ash.
But me? I was nobody to these people.
The mission had to come first. Even if it meant going around Tag. Even if he never forgave me for this.
I committed every detail Kestrel sent to memory, then stood, moving to the wardrobe to pull out clothes.
Dawn wasn’t here yet, but it was coming fast, and I had work to do before the rest of the household woke up. But first, I needed to make contact with Typhon and Viper. Without their support, there’d be no way for me to pull this off.
The sun was barely breakingthrough the tall windows of the library at zero five thirty, the time Viper had confirmed we could meet. I positioned myself at the far end of the room, away fromthe door, with my laptop open on the desk so the camera angle only showed my face and the bookshelves behind me.
The secure connection took thirty seconds to establish, and when the screen divided into two feeds, Typhon appeared on the left and Viper on the right.
“Nightingale,” Typhon said. “This better be good.”
“I have time-sensitive intelligence that requires immediate authorization.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“There’s a charity gala this evening at Brodick Castle on the Isle of Arran. James Dalgleish is hosting.”
That got their attention.
Viper leaned forward. “Dalgleish?”
“Yes. My source confirms high-value attendees, including MacKenzie as well as known arms dealers.”
“What’s Obsidian’s assessment?” Typhon asked.
My stomach tightened. “He’s unaware of the intel.”
Viper’s brow shot up. “Explain.”
I chose my words carefully. “If Tag learns about this beforehand, he’ll stop me from going. He’ll either refuse to authorize it entirely or insist on going himself.”
“But he’d be recognized,” Typhon said under his breath.
“So would Con and Ash. Every sensitive conversation would shut down the moment they walked through the door.” I leaned forward. “I’m lesser known, and with the right hair and makeup, I’m better suited. I can infiltrate as a guest, get close to the targets, and gather as much intel as possible. This is exactly what I was trained for.”
“Your tactical assessment about this opportunity is sound,” Typhon said. “And you’re right that MacTaggert would be compromised in that environment.”
