"How do you plan to make her talk?"
They sat by the window in a restaurant, which offered a decent angle on the apartment building across the street. Since it was still daylight, Butcher kept his voice low enough that it wouldn't carry.
"Given the state of that building, she's probably broke. Bribery?"
"Nobody sells a secret this big for cash." Jude kept his eyes on the building. "A-Train trusted her with something that could end his career and probably send him to prison. That means the relationship is real. If you throw money at her, all you do is warn her that she's a target. She'll go straight to him."
Butcher's face remained blank.
He asked a trap question, Jude thought. He already knows the answer. He just wanted to see if I do. Butcher had spent years running operations against Vought. He had a set of protocols he trusted, and he wouldn't share resources with someone who lacked basic judgment. That was fine. Jude didn't need to point out that he understood the test.
"So what's the angle?" Butcher asked.
"Translucent told us A-Train visits almost every night. She has no active ties to Vought, which means no one is managing her information security. She isn't under orders, she isn't being monitored, she's just a private citizen. Running surveillance on her will tell us exactly what is being kept in there, and where."
"You want to go in and plant cameras."
"Modern devices already have cameras built in. You can access them remotely."
"So we don't actually need to go inside."
"No, we still need to go inside."
Butcher gave him a look that clearly asked why he was wasting his time.
"Please speak politely," Jude said mildly, dipping a fry in sauce. "The sequence is simple: enter the apartment once to map the layout, use the hacked devices to watch A-Train's interactions with her, find out where she hides the Compound V, and then go back in to take it. We remove a quantity small enough that no one notices."
"But we have an advantage here." Jude ate the fry. "I've met A-Train."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
Jude thought about how to phrase it.
"I have a highly developed sense of smell. Well beyond normal human limits—it's just one of those things I rarely mention because it doesn't come up." He put his half-eaten fry down. "When I was near A-Train, there was a specific chemical signature in his scent. Underneath the normal metabolic profile—sweat, urea, the usual stuff—there was something else. Something I couldn't identify. He looked wired and couldn't control his speed, so my first thought was that he was on something recreational."
He paused.
"I have spent the last few days in New York. Bars, streets, mid-level neighborhoods, high-end hotel hallways. I've built a pretty thorough catalog of what the common recreational drugs smell like in this city." He looked at Butcher. "None of them match what was on A-Train that day."
A sharp glint appeared in Butcher's eyes, replacing his usual guarded neutrality.
"Compound V," he said slowly. "It's a drug."
"That is my working theory."
"You're a—" Butcher caught himself. "That's bloody useful."
"The plan is simple now." Jude picked up the check and set it on the table. "I go into her apartment. If she is hiding Compound V in there, I will smell it immediately. And the concentration will be much stronger than what was on A-Train, because I'll be smelling the source, not just a trace. We find it by scent, take a sample small enough to go unnoticed, and we have physical evidence."
"When?"
The door to the apartment building opened.
A woman walked out. Her dress and makeup were carefully done, standing in sharp contrast to the rundown building she was leaving. She hadn't overdressed, but she had put in an effort that this neighborhood rarely required. She carried a tight, distracted expression, like someone who had just received unexpected news and was still deciding if she believed it.
Jude stood up.
"Your read on her finances was right, by the way," Jude said, watching her walk down the street. "Her accounts are a mess. A-Train hasn't been sending her money. Apparently, Vought's cost-cutting measures extend to their private lives."
Butcher followed him out before he consciously decided to move. "What does her leaving have to do with anything?"
"She was a superhero film actress for a few years. Her show did well while it ran. If she needs money and still has her powers, auditioning for a production that specifically casts people with abilities is her best option."
Butcher looked at him.
"You sent her an audition invite."
"I spent ten thousand dollars to pretend I was an enthusiastic fan and pay a small production company's casting director to send her an invitation. The audition is real. The company is real. The casting process will be completely professional." Jude watched her turn the corner. "She won't get the part. She doesn't have connections or an agent, and she hasn't worked in years. But she will be busy for at least a few hours."
"Ten thousand dollars for a distraction." Butcher's voice hovered somewhere between respect and offense. "You just had ten thousand dollars sitting around."
"You offered me thirty thousand for the Compound V intel." Jude stepped off the curb. "The wool comes from the sheep."
The apartment door had a standard residential lock.
Butcher was scanning up and down the street when he heard a soft click.
He turned around. Jude was already standing inside the doorway, sliding something thin and metallic back into his breast pocket.
"A key," Butcher noted.
"A friend of mine once pointed out that stealing a key is pointless for a standard lock." Jude stepped back to hold the door open. "Picking it is faster, because you can open it anytime you want."
"Your friend."
"She is finishing a sentence right now. Should be out in a year."
It was the second time today Butcher was completely out of words.
"Nothing out of place when we leave."
Jude pulled two pairs of gloves and two sets of shoe covers from a jacket that seemed to hold a small logistics department. He tossed a pair to Butcher.
The apartment was modest, shaped by financial constraints rather than personal taste. The furniture was purely functional, the limited space was arranged carefully, and a few old film props sat on the shelves, surviving from a better time. Jude paused in the entryway and lowered his head slightly.
"You smell it?" Butcher asked.
"Immediately." Jude straightened up. "The concentration is much stronger than what was on A-Train. This is a storage site. Maybe even active use." He walked toward the bedroom.
The hidden compartment in the bedroom was easy to find once Jude followed the scent. Butcher watched as Jude crouched by the baseboard and pressed a sequence into what looked like an ordinary piece of skirting.
"A safe."
"Did your friend also—"
"She taught me, yes," Jude said, already working on the dial. "She said I had a talent for it. I think it mostly comes down to hearing and muscle control." He kept his eyes on the mechanism. "Thirty seconds."
It took twenty-five.
Inside the safe lay a small, sealed bag holding two glass vials. The liquid inside was a brilliant, unnatural blue, resting somewhere between the color of shallow water and a clear sky. It was completely translucent, looking purified rather than chemically synthesized.
Butcher couldn't hide the look on his face.
"Take one." His voice dropped to a tight whisper. "Take one and let's go. Vought is finished."
Jude looked at the vials. He looked at the sealed bag.
He didn't reach for them.
"What are you doing?"
"The original plan was to take a sample." Jude leaned closer, inspecting the packaging without touching it. "But that bag is vacuum-sealed. We can't put it back exactly like this once we open it. They will know someone touched the vial." He leaned back on his heels. "Taking it now gives us evidence, but it blows the operation."
"Then why the hell did we break in here?" Butcher's voice carried the sharp frustration of a man watching a simple job fall apart. "Tourism?"
Jude thought for a moment.
"Do you know anything about chemistry?"