to concentrate, to ignore Annika’s instructions to Doyle, Doyle’s comments back.
And her laugh. Doyle—not much of a laugher—sure seemed to be having a hell of a fucking good time.
Cut it out, he warned himself when he felt annoyance and outright jealousy crawling over his skin. He had a job to do, worlds to save, and couldn’t be worried about part of his team tumbling around on the stupid lawn.
Maybe he’d like to learn how to do a one-handed handspring. Doyle wasn’t the only one with upper-body strength.
Maybe Doyle had the kind of upper-body strength that bench-pressed Toyotas, but still.
He tried to settle down. No point in singeing his fingers with the soldering gun again because he was watching them instead of what he was doing.
Then Sasha came out, sat beside him. “We figured pizza in about an hour, if that works for you.”
Grunting, he finished wrapping enameled wire around a bolt, cutting off the ends. “I want to keep at this,” he said, and stripped the ends of the wire. “I can take it inside, grab a slice.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
He shook his head, picked up the soldering iron to solder the stripped ends to his new, tiny circuit board. “Really a one-man job.”
“If you— Well, wow!
“Wow, what?”
“Doyle just did a handspring, but with one hand.”
He looked up in time to see Annika give Doyle a congratulatory hug. “Great.”
By the time he’d finished building two listening devices, on a table in the living area where he had room and some damn quiet, the moon was up, the stars out. And he needed a break.
He walked outside, and down, sat on the steps to look out at the sea.
“How did it go?”
He glanced back and up, saw Bran on the terrace. “I got two done, and tested. I need—”
“Wait, I’ll come down.”
When Bran came out, he sat on the steps, passed Sawyer a beer. “Sasha said you stuck with water or caffeine during the build. I thought you could use this now.”
“Yeah, I can, thanks. Needed a break. It’s not complicated so much as exacting, especially when it’s makeshift. I could work on the last one tonight, but I think I’d start getting sloppy. We can wait until tomorrow night to plant them, or go with two.”
“We talked about it at dinner, already opted for tomorrow night. Don’t push yourself tonight.”
“Appreciate it.” Content with the company, with the beer, Sawyer turned his mind on the what’s next. “I can get us inside Malmon’s villa, no problem. Since we won’t have to deal with windows or doors to get in, we don’t have to worry about an alarm system. But if they run to motion detectors, that’s a problem.”
“Ah.” With a nod, Bran leaned back against the steps, looked up at the star-strewn sky and the waxing moon. “And one none of us considered.”
Since the decision to check out Malmon’s villa, Sawyer had considered a lot. “Or internal cameras, that’s another. If I knew, one, they had motion detector alarms or security cameras, and two, what type, and three, where the system’s based, I could maybe bypass.”
Amusement had Bran’s scarred eyebrow lifting. “Is that the case then?”
On a quick laugh, Sawyer lifted the beer. “I don’t make breaking and entering a habit, but it’s good to know things, and how things work. You can bank on Malmon installing that kind of security while he’s in there. We don’t know if it’s already there. And if I’d thought of it before, maybe Riley could have found out.”
“She may still—we’ll tap her on it. Otherwise, we take our chances, I think. If we set off any alarms, we can be out again before anyone checks.”
“I can probably make it look like a glitch. But the cameras—”
“I can find a way to deal with those, if there are any to deal with.”
“All right. If we’re back around five like usual tomorrow, I’ll have the third one done before sundown.”
“More than soon enough, as we think to wait until about midnight. Doyle wants a look at the grounds as well, and we’d want quiet and privacy for that.”
“Can’t forget what Doyle wants.”
Bran took a contemplative sip of his own beer. “Problem with Doyle, is there?”
“No. No . . . No problem.”
To Bran, three “nos” in succession meant yes. “I see he’s learned some new moves from Annika.”
“What— Moves?” Sawyer’s head swiveled so fast, Bran wondered it didn’t twist off like a bottle cap. “Oh, right, right. The famous one-handed handspring.”
“A forward one, yes. She