"Five minutes," Lucas said, checking his watch with a casual flick of the wrist. "Time's up."
He gave Ava a look that was half grin, half armor. She didn't miss the way his hand brushed hers again before the door opened.
Elias stepped out of the transit office, arms spread like a host welcoming long-lost guests to a party he barely believed was still happening.
"All clear," he called. "Everyone inside's drunk enough to be friendly, but sober enough to lie well. Come on, let's make it weird."
Lucas walked in first, one hand still resting lightly at Ava's back.
The inside of the office had been cleaned up. Barely. Fluorescent strips flickered over a half-circle of low couches and a cracked table buried in bottles, data slates, and snack wrappers. Three people looked up as they entered.
Elias raised a lazy hand and gestured to each of them.
"Lucas, Ava—meet the not enemies."
The first to stand was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a shaved head and a laugh already on his face.
