Elise smirked and set the cups down. Lyra took hers and drank without waiting, as if the heat might steady her pulse. Inigo only held his, letting the steam curl into his face.
Thorne leaned back in his chair, the map between them weighted like a battlefield. "You leave tonight. The convoy departs at dawn two days hence, which gives you one full day to prepare ground. Choose wisely where you cut."
Lyra's fingers drummed once against her cup. "You want us invisible until the last minute."
"I want you effective," Thorne corrected. "Invisible would be a kindness, but fear works too. Make them think the road has teeth."
Inigo stood, rolling the map closed with crisp precision. "We'll need more than luck and oil."
"Which is why," Thorne said, reaching under the desk, "you're requisitioned for this."
