Page 32 of Warrior's Reign
“I need to keep a low profile. Yadeshi First—”
“Especiallybecause of Yadeshi First. You will be held up as both an icon and a target. So, yes, I am well aware that Ibukay cannot be embarrassed.”
Reign refrained from cussing, Icolo silent as she walked out.
* * *
Reign turned her comm back on once she was in her tiny office on palace grounds, well clear of her team’s hidey-hole. Martha would work on setting them up a permanent base while Icolo began charming clients. She didn’t bother with worry—trying to control Icolo was like trying to control a snowstorm. He accepted her as the leader of their unit, but he would carry out her directives as he saw fit. It was the downside of working with the Aeddannar. Once sworn, they would remain loyal. But they also chose the form their loyalty took.
An alert came through her console, overriding her lock on visual. She met midnight blue eyes, a little annoyed. “Are you allowed to override my lock on visual?” she demanded. “It would teach you a lesson if I was in my birthday suit.”
“Obe’shan,” he said, expression impassive but for the slightest narrowing of his eyes. “Your comm was offline for two hours.”
“Personal time.”
“And yet you failed to log personal time.”
“Forgot. I’m still getting used to reporting my movements. It won’t happen again.”
“The comm should remain online at all times,” was the cool reply. “It is for your safety as an operative of theBdakhun.”
“That’s what the distress button is for, presumably. If I couldn’t take care of myself, you probably wouldn’t have hired me.”
He was silent, evaluating her. What could he say, though? She was allowed personal time when not on active duty.
“Evvek is ready for us.” He cut the comm.
A second later, her wrist unit flashed. Coordinates to a section of the palace not on official maps. She stripped out of her street clothes, donned her uniform, and left, anticipation growing.
* * *
Reign grimaced as she stepped into the op center. Her lack of budget was clear when you contrasted the hijacked decrepit restaurant with the sleek silver and glass room inside the palace, which could fit at least three of those restaurants.
Vykhan glanced at her then gestured, leading the way to one of the curved metallic desks. There were at least a dozen stations, all with the same transparent inset consoles as in Vykhan’s office—she was seeing a pattern in the decor—but on the walls above each station were larger screens. Several of them were blank, though Reign could tell the operators were manipulating either data or images or both. Which meant certain intel was coded, probably through retinal tech.
A tall, lanky man with a riot of yellow, blue, and purple braids in a mohawk down his scalp turned in his seat as they approached. He wore a skin suit that matched his hair, and brilliant yellow eyes blinked up at them.
“The new blood,” Evvek greeted. “Humans shake hands, right?”
She took the offered hand. “I’ve been on Yedahn since I was a teenager.”
“Right, right. Practically Yadeshi now.”
He said it with such good-natured acceptance that Reign didn’t bristle. She just shrugged and smiled a little. “You got an op for me?”
“Pull up a chair. Vykhan likes to stand at attention but the rest of us are flesh and blood.”
“I’ll stand.”
He shrugged and turned back around. “So what we have is a number of possible data brokering hubs.”
“Reign isn’t aware of the current investigation,” Vykhan said quietly.
“Yeah, right. There’s a leak in the palace. Someone—or several someones—is selling information.”
“What information?”
“Staff placements, itineraries, event personnel. It’s spread out across multiple sources and on the surface the data they’re mining doesn’t look like high level stuff.”
