“The investors were asking pointed questions about security protocols, communication capabilities, and the isolation of the expedition.” Elliot took another swig of his beer. “One of them, Camille Middleton, admitted to having a file on Rue. She wasn’t thrilled when she found out who I was.”
“She recognized the Wilde name?” Davey’s eyes narrowed.
“Immediately. And she didn’t like it.”
Rowan crossed her arms. “Of course she didn’t. You’re a complication they weren’t expecting.”
Elliot hesitated, then added quietly, “There’s something else. I can’t shake the feeling Rue isn’t telling me everything she knows about this expedition.”
Davey’s brows lifted. “You think she’s holding back intel?”
“Not intel, exactly. Just… something. She went silent on the ride back.”
Rowan hissed out a breath. “And for Rue, that’s never a good sign. I can try talking to her?—”
“No.” When both Davey and Rowan looked at him, he realized the protest had come out too forcefully. Elliot took a breath. “I’ll handle it. I’m going with her, and I’ll figure out what she’s hiding.”
Rowan studied him, her expression unreadable. “You’re sure? Because if my sister’s involved in something dangerous?—”
“She called me, Ro. She wants me there.”
“That doesn’t mean she’ll tell you everything,” Rowan pointed out. “Rue’s selective with her truth, especially when she thinks she’s protecting someone.”
Elliot couldn’t argue with that. Rue had always been good at telling just enough of the truth to sound honest while holding back the parts she didn’t want you to know. It was one of the things that made her both infuriating and impressive.
“I’ve got Griffin on standby in Chile,” he said, changing subjects. “If things go sideways, he’ll be ready to pull us out.”
“Good call,” Davey said, and Elliot felt a small surge of satisfaction at the approval. He’d spent his whole life trying to impress his older brother—at first by tagging along on every childhood adventure, then by chasing his example into the military. But Elliot quickly realized he wasn’t built for the SEALs, and spent his military career in Naval Intelligence, where he learned to see patterns others missed, before landing as a logistics coordinator in the family business.
Davey had always been larger-than-life, the kind of brother who dove headfirst into the fire while Elliot stayed back, making sure there was a way out. Different approaches, same goal. But no matter how many missions Elliot planned to the last detail, no matter how many times he was proven right, a part of him still felt like the kid trailing in Davey’s shadow, waiting for a nod that he’d done well.
“What about Frost?” Davey asked, drawing his attention back to the conversation. “Was he there?”
Man, he must be tired. He was usually more focused than this. He took a long drink of his beer before answering. “Playing host. He’s definitely involved in whatever this is, but he’s keeping his distance. Making sure his hands stay clean.”
“Typical.” Rowan’s voice was tight with disgust. “And my sister is right in the middle of it.”
“She’s safe for now,” Elliot assured, though the words felt hollow even to him. “They need her to get them there.”
“And after that?” Rowan’s question hung in the air for several heavy seconds.
Elliot didn’t have an answer for her. Once they reached Antarctica, Rue’s usefulness would be limited to her ability to get them back out again. If Praetorian found what they were looking for, they wouldn’t want witnesses.
“It gets worse,” Elliot said after a moment. “One of the scientists on the team is Dr. Irina Volkova.“
Davey frowned. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
Rowan went still. “Dad’s team took down a group of mercenaries run by a man named Evgeny Volkov... God, thirty-some years ago now. I was a baby at the time, but I’ve heard the stories. Do you think they’re related?”
“Volkov’s a common enough Russian name,” Elliot pointed out, but the uneasiness in his gut suggested otherwise. Coincidences weren’t something he believed in, not in their line of work.
“I’ll check with Dad,” Rowan said, already reaching for her phone. “He might remember more details.”
Davey moved to stand behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders, rubbing gently. The casual touch spoke volumes about how far they’d come in their relationship. “It can wait until tomorrow, Hellcat. He’s probably in bed.”
Rowan scowled up at him, but then glanced at the large vintage clock hanging on the living room wall, loudly ticking away the seconds, and her scowl faded. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t want to wake him. Mom says he pushes too hard and pays for it after.”
Last summer, Gabe Bristow had finally had the leg amputated below the knee to deal with an old injury that had dogged him for decades. He was up and moving on the prosthetic now, stubborn as ever, but even Elliot could tell recovery had been harder on him than he let on. Rue had acted like it was all no big deal, teasing her dad about his “robot leg” and how he could now smuggle weapons in his artificial calf. She even offered to get him one with flamethrowers built in. But Elliot had seen the worry in her eyes when she thought no one was looking, the same worry now etched on Rowan’s face.
