"I'll be ready," I promised. "We'll all be ready."
On stage, Val proceeded with her first major illusion—a complex water tank escape that drew gasps from the audience.Celia performed her assistant role flawlessly, her movements betraying none of the tension I knew she must be feeling.
Our subject watched with predatory intensity, his focus unwavering, his hand occasionally straying toward his hidden weapon. The gesture seemed almost unconscious—the instinctive check of a man preparing for violence.
I glanced at my watch. Upstairs in the Dragon's Crown lounge, the second phase of the operation would be unfolding—the money transfer beginning under the watchful eyes of Team Alpha. Everything was proceeding according to timeline.
In less than thirty minutes, at Val's finale, both operations would culminate simultaneously. The financial evidence would be secured at the exact moment Tommy Lace was apprehended. The timing had to be perfect—synchronized to prevent either target from being alerted by the other's arrest.
I shifted slightly, ensuring clear access to my own concealed weapon. The familiar weight of my service pistol pressed against my ribs, a reminder of my true identity and purpose. In moments of crisis, that foundational truth would supersede all covers and deceptions.
On stage, Val concluded her water illusion to enthusiastic applause. As the lights shifted for the next sequence, Tommy's hand moved deliberately to his inside jacket pocket. He withdrew a cell phone, glanced at its screen, then typed a brief message.
Seconds later, I noticed a subtle shift in security positioning near the theater's main exits. Two of Enzo's men moved from their standard stations to new locations with clear sight lines to the stage.
"Phoenix to Nightwatch," I murmured. "Target communicating with secondary assets. Theater securitycompromised. Position shift indicates preparation for coordinated action."
"Acknowledged," Chen responded. "Additional tactical units moving to interior containment. Maintain observation. Intervention only if civilian safety directly threatened."
As Val's routine progressed toward the finale, the atmosphere in the theater thickened with invisible tension. Most audience members remained blissfully unaware, absorbed in the spectacular illusions unfolding before them. But beneath the surface entertainment, deadly currents were gathering force.
Every few minutes, Lace checked his watch—a man anticipating a precisely timed event. His confident smile never wavered. Whatever he had planned, he clearly believed it foolproof.
Little did he know that his every movement was being monitored, cataloged, and incorporated into the tactical response preparing to close around him. His confidence was based on inside information from Enzo—information that was now compromised, his supposed advantages already neutralized.
Onstage, Val announced her penultimate illusion—the levitation sequence that would lead directly into the finale. This was the critical juncture, the last moments before all elements of our operation converged.
"All units prepare for phase three," Chen's voice came through my earpiece on the tactical channel. "Dragon's Crown team in final position. Theater team confirm readiness."
Confirmations flowed in from each tactical position. Everything was set.
Celia rose into the air, suspended by nearly invisible wires as Val created the illusion of gravity-defying magic. Theaudience gasped appreciatively. Tommy's focus intensified, his body language shifting subtly from observation to preparation.
I caught Celia's eye for the briefest moment as she floated above the stage. In that fractional connection, I tried to convey everything I couldn't say aloud:Be careful. I'm here. Trust me.
Whether she understood or not, I couldn't tell. Her performance persona remained intact, her movements precisely aligned with Val's routine.
As the illusion reached its climax, the predator shifted forward in his seat, hand moving toward his hidden weapon. The stage lights began their programmed shift toward the deep blue that would precede the final blackout.
The moment of truth approached—the culmination of a year undercover, of meticulous evidence gathering, of carefully constructed strategy. In less than sixty seconds, the theater would go dark for Val's disappearing cabinet finale. In that darkness, Tommy Lace intended to strike.
But we would strike first.
My hand moved to my communication device, ready to give the signal that would transform cocktail servers into tactical officers, seal all exits, and close the net around both the financial operation upstairs and Tommy Lace's revenge plot.
"Queen of Hearts folds," I whispered, initiating the coordinated takedown.
In that instant, my divided priorities crystallized into a single imperative: protect Celia Marshall at all costs.
Whatever it took, whatever protocols I had to break, I would ensure she survived the chaos about to erupt in the Jade Petal Theater.
Chapter Nine
Celia
The stage lights transformed everything into a glittering mirage. Through the haze of blue spotlights and atmospheric fog, the theater became a dream world where my fears should have felt distant, insignificant compared to the magic we created.
But I kept my gaze fixed on the fifth seat from the left, front row, center section.