Page 89 of Dark Princess Ascending

"Not really. I want to prove that I'm not a kid who needs babysitting, but I'm grateful for the opportunity to be an observer. In the future, though, I hope they will let me help. I want to make a difference."

"No one thinks you're a kid who needs babysitting." Pavel's expression softened. "But everyone has to start somewhere. Even Peter had to learn surveillance protocols before leading missions. Hegot promoted to Head Guardian when he took over the Avengers."

"Time to get settled in, rookie," Lyall called from inside the van. "We need to move out."

She gave Pavel a smile. "Good luck. And if we get to see some action, be careful."

"I will." He patted her back. "Keep sharp, rookie." He winked before sauntering away.

She watched him head to his vehicle, taking a deep breath before climbing into the van. The interior was a masterpiece of technology, housing state-of-the-art surveillance equipment.

"Sit over there," the Guardian instructed while powering up the systems. "I'll walk you through each component once we're in position. After all, you are here to learn, right?"

She nodded. "I don't expect to become a surveillance expert, but I'm happy to learn what I can."

"You never know, kid." Lyall winked at her. "You might discover that you have a knack for it."

52

PETER

As they neared their target location, everything about this neighborhood screamed money and privilege—manicured lawns, luxury cars, and security that was meant to be seen. But knowing that beneath that polished veneer lurked something far darker made Peter think of a thin layer of glitter covering festering rot.

"Team One in position," Alfie's voice came through his earpiece.

Peter tapped his own piece once. "Acknowledged. Team Two, status?"

"Two minutes out," Bowen reported. "No suspicious activity on approach."

The backup teams would hang back and engage if and when needed. Peter had chosen his people carefully for this mission, balancing experience with the stomach for what they might encounter.

"Van moving into position now," Lyall reported. "Preparing to deploy the parabolic microphone."

The van was going to park in the neighbors' driveway. They were out of town, and last night, one of William's crew members had taken care of their front-facing camera, so it was delivering a prerecorded long loop of no activity so no one would notice the van parking on their property.

They didn't have a front gate, which was unusual for the neighborhood, but even if they did, it wouldn't have caused much of a challenge.

"Can you get anything from there?" Peter asked.

"The parabolic mic can reach, but it's tricky," Lyall said. "If the perps are upstairs or near a window, I'll catch it. If they're in the basement, though, it's more difficult."

Peter suspected that much of the illicit activity was happening in the basement, so that was a problem. "What's your issue with the basement?"

"Sound doesn't travel well through concrete," Lyall said. "We're looking at layers of insulation, stone, and probably a lot of ambient noise masking anything useful. I'll need to focus on external openings—basement windows, vents, maybe even the front door if it's ajar."

Peter rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm looking at the plans, and there is a basement window on that side of the house. If it's closed, I'll send a Guardian to open it."

"If they are really loud down there, I can hear iteven with the window closed," Lyall said. "It will also come through pretty clearly if they talk near the window."

"How long until you are all set up?"

"Two minutes. The tripod is already prepped. Once I get the dish aligned, I'll tune it in. You'll have live audio in about ten minutes. Let's just cross our fingers that no one wonders what a news van is doing at their neighbors' house."

"You know what to say if anyone comes to ask."

They could thrall the person, or Drova could compel them into silence, but the easiest solution was a good cover story. They were filming a segment about luxury properties for sale in Beverly Hills, and they were waiting for their anchorwoman, who was running late.

"Let me know the second you hear anything."