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wouldn’t be able to get you into the city to access their mainframes. Not without the papers in the first place.”

Thomas nodded. “Yes. It would be oxymoronic, to say the least. I am looking at other options, however.”

“Like?” I perked up. Thomas and I had been sitting there for an hour looking at the papers, but this was the first I was hearing about an alternative plan.

“Well, there is a chance some of the tunnels are unguarded, for one. We might be able to access some of them using one of the outer hatches, but seeing as Desmond knew about the tunnels…”

“We can’t count on her leaving them unguarded,” I finished for him with a frustrated sigh.

Ms. Dale leaned back on the table, deep in thought. “There has to be a way in,” she murmured.

“Well, there are a few things to consider,” said Thomas. “We could just have several individuals go in and get identification papers, but that poses a high risk of someone being discovered. Not to mention, if they have scanners at the border, our disguises would have to be flawless.”

“It’s too risky,” Ms. Dale replied. “But… I have a thought. I’ll need to talk to Jeff about it.”

“What is it?” I asked.

Her lips quirked up and she met my gaze, her brown eyes sparkling. “They have to be letting emergency services in and out of the city,” she said. “It might be easier to call in an emergency, and then hijack their transport.”

I leaned to rest my shoulders against the back of the chair, considering the idea. On one hand, it was bold. Chances were good the emergency services hadn’t been dismantled yet, which meant most of their workers would still be male. That would get Viggo, Thomas, and Owen into the heart of enemy-controlled territory… I paused, suddenly remembering Owen wouldn’t be there for this mission. I took a minute to allow myself the pang that accompanied the thought, and then turned back to the idea. If it worked, and if they weren’t scrutinized too much at the border…

“I don’t know,” I said, doubt creeping into my mind. “I’m not comfortable with the idea of holding up an emergency response team, especially if someone else calls needing aid. We could be condemning innocent people to death or serious harm by holding them up.”

“We have our two doctors,” Ms. Dale replied practically. “And we wouldn’t harm the emergency team. We could even leave a team with them to get them where they needed to go.”

I bit my lip. “I guess. Check it out with Jeff and then run it by Viggo? It’s workable, but not ideal.”

“Agreed,” said Ms. Dale, straightening up. “Well, I’ll leave you all to it. If you come up with a breakthrough on the papers, let me know. If not, we’ll see if we can’t brainstorm a few more options before settling on a plan. Don’t worry—this will not be where we get stalled.” She winked at us, and I smiled.

“I’m sure it won’t,” I said, with more confidence than I felt. I watched her as she left, and then sighed, doubtful. It seemed like every option we explored was coming up short, and without a viable plan to get into the city, we might be forced to rely on our refugee volunteers to carry this vital mission through for us. That was risky, as they had never worked as a unit before—or even been on an operation. It was a lot for them to accomplish with little to no experience.

Still, I had faith we would figure something out. This had to work. We couldn’t keep chipping away at the edges of what Elena and Desmond were planning. We needed a big win, one that would hurt them deeply. Turning Patrus against them would be just such a blow, and would hopefully rock them both back on their heels.

I turned over to Thomas to ask what he thought, and then paused when I saw the middle-aged man staring at his hands, a sad look in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly. “I mean, with Owen leaving?”

Thomas blinked behind his glasses and fidgeted slightly. “No,” he mumbled. He took off his spectacles and began cleaning them on his shirt.

I hesitated, and then leaned forward. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He met my gaze again, squinting at me slightly before replacing his glasses on his nose. “What would I say?”

Shrugging, I settled back in my chair. “I’m not sure,” I replied honestly. “It’s more out of a… social obligation that we ask. I don’t think it’s required that you take me up on the offer.”

“Would it be wrong of me to do so?”

“Not at all,” I said with a smile.

Thomas nodded, his gaze drifting away for a moment. “Have I ever told you how Owen and I met?”

I shook my head. “No, you haven’t. Would you like to?”

“I would.” He paused for a second, collecting his thoughts, and then sighed. “A couple of years ago, Desmond had recruited Owen and two Patrian males to join the Liberators. She put Owen in charge, but the other males were… aggressive and short-tempered. Owen was having a hard time keeping them in line.

“Owen brought them into the sewers after a supply raid had gone off the rails. It was a last-ditch effort to avoid the Patrian patrols. Anyway, after they met me, they started to…” He trailed off, looking away.

“Bully you?” I offered, and he nodded, meeting my gaze, his dark eyes glistening and his mouth curling in distaste.

“That would be one word for it. Owen, well, he tried to get them to stop, but they knew what I was, and they were relentless. At one point, they broke my wrist with their ‘teasing.’ I guess that’s when Owen had had enough.” He met my gaze then, his eyes hard and flat.

“What did he do?” I asked.

“He crushed some sedatives from one of our first-aid packs into their food, and then tied them up. Then he brought

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