Marcus no longer needed to be the only wall between Victoria and the road.
He briefed the senior officer quickly.
Vehicle sabotage.
Compromised route.
Suspicious stolen van.
Possible coordinated attempt.
Preservation of the damaged SUV as evidence.
The officer listened and called additional resources.
Victoria stepped out.
The eastern sky was becoming pale silver behind her.
The rain had stopped.
Elias climbed out last.
His knees hurt.
His back hurt.
His stomach reminded him he had eaten nothing since a gas-station sandwich at noon.
Marcus looked at him.
“You look terrible.”
“Thank you.”
“You always this cheerful?”
“Only after midnight.”
Victoria approached.
For several seconds she said nothing.
Then she held out her hand.
Elias looked at it.
“What?”
“Thank you.”
He shook it.
Her grip was firm.
“You saved my life.”
He released her hand.
“The tire saved your life first.”
She frowned.
“What?”
“If it hadn't failed early, you might not have stopped where you did.”
Victoria looked toward the disabled SUV now being treated as evidence.
“So the first part of their plan malfunctioned.”
“Maybe.”
Marcus shook his head.
“Mechanic refuses hero status. Noted.”
Elias turned toward him.
“You had a security team.”
“A security team that missed the vehicle problem.”
“You're good at different things.”
Marcus's expression changed.
The answer mattered.
No humiliation.
No victory.
Just fact.
“You really mean that.”
“Yes.”
Marcus nodded once.
Victoria studied Elias.
“Come to my office tomorrow.”
“No.”
She blinked.
Marcus covered a smile.
Victoria tried again.
“I wasn't asking you for a job.”
“Good.”
“I want you present when we brief investigators.”
“Why?”
“Because you found the first anomaly.”
“You have photographs.”
“You saw the sequence develop.”
“Marcus saw it.”
Marcus said, “Don't put this on me.”
Victoria ignored him.
“Tomorrow.”
“My daughter.”
“Bring her.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Elias stared at her.
“Because normal nine-year-olds do not attend assassination briefings.”
Marcus laughed.
Victoria gave him a look.
He stopped.
“Fine,” she said. “After school.”
“I work.”
“Take the day off.”
“I don't have paid days off.”
The sentence landed differently than she expected.
Victoria Hale lived in a world where time could usually be bought.
Elias did not.
Missing one day meant lost income.
Lost income meant something removed from the grocery list, a bill delayed, or one more repair he postponed on his own truck while fixing everybody else's.
Victoria looked at his jacket again.
“I'll compensate you.”
“No.”
“Elias.”
“No.”
“You've spent half the night protecting me.”
“Didn't send an invoice.”
“That doesn't mean your time has no value.”
He stared at her.
For a moment, something changed.
That was not an argument he had expected from someone who first accused him of planning to rob her.
Marcus said quietly, “Consulting fee.”
Elias looked at him.
“Absolutely not.”
“Hourly.”
“No.”
“Four-hour minimum.”
“No.”
Victoria folded her arms.
“You are impossible.”
“So I've heard.”
She pulled a card from her coat.