Mystery ~ MV1

013. Dutch Liabilities

[Agent A]

Free Practice 1 at Miami was a clash of sensory data my trained mind automatically cataloged: the screech of tires testing track limits, thick humidity making camera equipment fog slightly, the underlying scent of rubber and fuel that permeated everything.

But my focus was on the conversation at hand, mentally mapping each word exchanged with Luke while maintaining situational awareness of our surroundings.

"We're choosing to trust the Intel," Luke said quietly, his camera hanging unused around his neck as we stood in the shadow of the paddock building. His posture was casual, but I recognized the subtle tension in his shoulders – the same tension I felt.

"Three separate sources confirmed Vega's planning to be here."

I adjusted my lens, using the motion to scan the area. "Any indication why Miami? There are lower-profile races if he's looking to make deals."

"Maybe he's comfortable in the US? He works within the states the most- but it seems sloppy," Luke replied, scratching his jaw – our signal for spotted surveillance.

I didn't react, just continued adjusting my camera while my peripheral vision caught two of Vega's known associates poorly disguising their observation of the paddock, their only disguise is Mercedes merch that looks like it was bought a few minutes ago based on the stiff wrinkles. "Why choose one of the most media-heavy races of the season?"

"Unless that's exactly why," I mused, mind racing through possibilities. "Maximum exposure means maximum distraction. Everyone's looking at the spectacle..."

"...no one's watching the shadows," Luke finished. He shifted his weight, angling himself to better cover our conversation from the watchers. "We need to-"

"Syd!"

The familiar Dutch accent made my stomach drop. I didn't need to look at Luke to feel his entire demeanor change – the slight stiffening of his spine, the fractional turn of his head when he looked to me for an explanation.

I'd known this conversation was coming the moment I'd let my real name slip at breakfast, but I'd hoped to have more time to prepare.

Max approached with that easy confidence that seemed to come naturally to him, but I caught the slight hesitation in his stride as he registered Luke's presence next to me.

Good instincts, I thought absently, even as I calculated how to handle this collision of my worlds.

"Max," I greeted, keeping my tone professional but not cold. But truly it didn't matter how my voice sounded, Max called me by my name and that gave me away enough. "Shouldn't you be preparing for practice?"

"Just finished the track walk," he replied, eyes flickering between Luke and me with poorly concealed curiosity. "Thought I'd say hi before heading to the garage."

Luke cleared his throat pointedly, and I could practically feel the interrogation building behind his carefully neutral expression. He placed his hands in his pockets and turned from Max to me with a raised brow. "Syd, huh?"

"Her middle name," Max offered helpfully, completely unaware of the landmine he was stepping on. He almost looked happy he knew the information and Luke didn't seem to.

I watched Luke's jaw tighten and knew I'd be hearing about this later. Extensively. "I should get going," I said quickly, already taking a step back. "Need to get some shots of the practice sessions."

"I need those garage pics anyway," Luke added, his tone carrying a weight that had nothing to do with photography. "We'll talk later."

That was a loaded sentence and I was already planning what I'd do to get around having to have that conversation.