Page 11 of Shadowfox
“No one is going to dig,” Manakin said.
“You don’t know that,” Egret snapped.
The air in the room tightened.
Egret ran a hand through his hair, muttering something in German, before slamming the file shut.
Sparrow reached out a hand, stroking his arm.
Will’s brows shot nearly to his hairline.
I tried to keep my face blank. There would be time to explore whatever they’d become after this farce of a briefing was over.
“And what happens if someone actually knows Hans Weiss? The real Hans Weiss?” he pressed. “Or if the Soviets decide Austria is no longer ‘neutral’ enough to justify my presence?”
“Then you adapt,” Manakin said coolly. “You are here to get a job done, not quibble.”
Egret let out a sharp breath, leaning forward with both hands on the table.
“This is a death sentence,” he said, voice quiet but lethal.
Manakin set his cigarette down, folding his hands in front of him.
“No, it’s an assignment. Do your job, and you won’t die.”
Egret laughed. “You really believe that?”
Silence.
Sparrow retracted her hand and stared down at her folder. Will was watching me, waiting for me to intervene, but I knew better than to get in the middle of an argument with Manakin.
Egret shook his head, jaw tight. Hehatedthis.
So did I.
“This whole thing is a mess,” Egret muttered.
Manakin’s patience was wearing thin. “Do you have a better plan?”
Egret was silent.
“Then shut up and do your job,” Manakin said coldly.
The tension in the room was close to snapping.
Then—
“All right, enough,” Raines said.
His voice cut through the room like a blade, sharp and undeniable.
We all turned.
Raines leaned back in his chair, tapping his cigarette against a tray, watching us with calculated patience. “We’re not going to sit here all night arguing about this. The covers are as solid as they come. They’ve been checked. The paperwork is clean. The entry plan is in place. None of this changes the fact that we have a job to do.”
He looked at Egret.
“I don’t like it either, but here we are.”
