Sage
The morning sun hangs low in the sky as we file into Reeves’s tent for the final negotiation. The air feels heavier than yesterday, as if the weight of what’s at stake has soaked into the ground. Alicia’s posture is rigid beside me, her face unreadable. Dash follows close behind, a silent shadow, his eyes scanning the room.
Reeves is already seated, his smirk firmly in place as he gestures for us to sit. “Let’s get right to it, shall we?” he says, his voice dripping with false charm. “I don’t have all day.”
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. This is it—the moment we’ve been building toward. Alicia and I agreed last night on how to frame this, but Reeves’s presence is a wild card we can’t fully predict.
“Alicia’s camp will assist with the pipeline project,” I begin, keeping my tone calm and professional. “Their expertise will expedite the timeline, ensuring the Sovereign Accord gains access to clean water sooner rather than later.”
Reeves raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but cautious. “Go on.”
“In exchange,” Alicia says, her voice sharp, “your men stay out of our territory. No patrols near our borders, no interference with our day-to-day operations.”
Reeves leans back in his chair, his smirk widening. “So, let me get this straight. You want me to send your people to help with my pipeline—speeding up my plans—while I agree to pull back my men and give you even more breathing room?”
Alicia’s jaw tightens, but she keeps her tone steady. “That’s the deal.”
Reeves lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You must think I’m an idiot.”
“It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement,” I say, stepping in. “Your people get the pipeline operational faster, which benefits the Accord as a whole. Alicia’s camp provides the skilled labor needed to make that happen, and in return, you give them the space they need to maintain stability.”
He tilts his head, studying me like I’m an insect under a magnifying glass. “And what happens to her camp while all these skilled workers are off building my pipeline?”
I hesitate, but Alicia answers before I can.
“We’ll manage,” she says curtly. “My camp is strong enough to handle the temporary strain.”
Reeves’s smirk widens. “Temporary strain, huh? That’s one way to put it. But I’ll tell you what I see: a weakened camp, stretched thin, with fewer resources to resist the Accord’s influence. And you’re offering me this on a silver platter.”
Alicia’s fingers curl into fists on the table, but her voice remains steady. “If that’s how you see it, fine. But the pipeline won’t get finished without our help, and you know it.”
Reeves leans forward, his smirk turning predatory. “You’re right. I do know it. And I also know that this deal benefits me far more than it does you.”
He glances at me, his eyes narrowing. “But here’s the thing, Sage. I’m not in the habit of giving away power. So, if I’m agreeing to this, I want something else in return.”
My stomach twists, but I force myself to meet his gaze. “What are you asking for?”
He taps his fingers against the table, considering. “Weekly progress reports,” he says finally. “Directly to me. I want to know exactly what’s happening at every stage of the project. And I want the option to send a few of my men to oversee operations—just to ensure things are running smoothly.”
Alicia stiffens, her eyes flashing with anger. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“It is now,” Reeves says smoothly. “Take it or leave it.”
I glance at Alicia, her jaw tight with barely restrained fury. This isn’t ideal, but it’s not entirely unexpected. Reeves needs to feel like he’s winning, like he’s still in control.
“We’ll accept the progress reports,” I say carefully. “But the oversight will need to be limited. A handful of men, no more than three, stationed near the pipeline—not in Alicia’s camp.”
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Reeves leans back, his smirk firmly in place. “Fine. But if there’s so much as a whisper of trouble, I reserve the right to send more.”
Alicia’s lips press into a thin line, but she nods. “Agreed.”
Reeves claps his hands together, the sound sharp and final. “Well, then. Looks like we have ourselves a deal.”
The tension in the room doesn’t ease, even as Reeves rises to his feet, his men falling into step behind him. He pauses at the tent flap, turning back to us with that same infuriating smirk.
“Don’t disappoint me,” he says, his tone mocking. “I’d hate to have to revisit this conversation.”
As he walks away, Alicia exhales sharply, her hands still clenched into fists.
“That bastard thinks he’s won,” she mutters, her voice low and furious.
“He did win,” I say quietly, my gaze following Reeves’s retreating form. “Or at least, he thinks he did.”
Alicia glances at me, her eyes narrowing. “And you’re okay with that?”
I meet her gaze, my voice firm. “If it means keeping your people safe, yes. This deal buys us time. Time to figure out the next move, time to strengthen our camps. Reeves won’t see it coming.”
Her jaw tightens, but she nods. “Fine. But we need to move fast. I don’t trust him not to change his mind.”
“Neither do I,” I admit.
Dash
The sun is high overhead as we leave the Accord camp, the weight of the negotiations pressing heavy on my chest. Sage walks beside me, her steps quick and purposeful, but I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands clench and unclench at her sides.
“Do you think he’ll keep his word?” I ask quietly, my voice breaking the silence between us.
She doesn’t look at me, her gaze fixed on the path ahead. “No. But it doesn’t matter. We’ll be ready when he doesn’t.”
The cold certainty in her voice sends a shiver down my spine, but I don’t argue. Because she’s right. Reeves isn’t the kind of man who plays fair, and this deal is just another move in his game.
The path back to camp stretches out in front of us, dust kicking up with every step. The quiet isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s not easy either. Sage walks with purpose, her head slightly bowed, and I can see the wheels turning.
When she finally speaks, her voice is calm, decisive. “We’re going to use Greg.”
It’s not a question, and honestly, I saw it coming. “What’s the angle?” I ask, cutting to the point.
She glances at me, her expression steady. “Reeves already sees him as a potential ally, even if Greg doesn’t realize it. We feed him information—controlled, precise. He carries it to Reeves, thinking he’s gaining favor, and we sit back and watch it unfold.”
I nod slowly, mulling it over. “The information we give him—it’s gotta be believable. Enough to keep Reeves distracted, but not enough to give him anything useful.”
“Exactly,” she says. “We tailor it to make Greg feel like he’s part of something bigger. He needs to think he’s in the loop.”
“And when Reeves figures out it’s all smoke and mirrors?”
She shrugs. “That’s the beauty of it. Reeves won’t question us—he’ll question Greg. If it falls apart, it comes back on him, not us.”
I can’t argue with her logic. It’s clean, smart, and way less messy than some of the alternatives we’ve talked about.
“Alright,” I say, nodding. “What kind of intel are we feeding him?”
“We start with the pipeline,” she replies. “Timelines, supply issues, minor disputes between the camps—stuff that sounds real but doesn’t actually hurt us if it gets out. Then we mix in a few things that’ll make Reeves feel like he’s one step ahead of us.”
“Like what?”
She hesitates, then smirks faintly. “Maybe we let Greg think there’s tension between Branson and me. That Branson doesn’t trust me completely with the negotiations, so there’s some room to exploit.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You really think Reeves will bite on that?”
“Reeves thrives on division,” she says. “If he thinks he can sow doubt between us, he’ll focus on that instead of coming after our camps directly. And Greg? He’ll eat it up. It’ll make him feel important.”
I let out a low whistle, impressed despite myself. “That’s cold, Sage.”
“It’s practical,” she counters, her tone steady. “This isn’t about taking Greg down. It’s about keeping our people safe. If we can turn his fascination with the Accord into a tool, we’d be stupid not to.”
She’s right, of course. Greg’s been teetering on the edge of this for weeks, and if we don’t use him, Reeves will. At least this way, we control the narrative.
“Fine,” I say. “But we need to be careful. One wrong move, and Greg could blow this wide open.”
Sage nods, her expression firm. “We’ll be careful. We’ll give him just enough to keep him busy, but not enough to put anyone in real danger.”
“Alright,” I say, my tone final. “Let’s make it happen.”
Sage
By the time we reach camp, the plan feels solid in my mind. Greg doesn’t have the sharpest instincts, but he’s clever enough to make this believable if we play it right.
As we step into the main clearing, Dash turns to me, his expression serious. “You want to talk to him now, or wait until tomorrow?”
“Now,” I say without hesitation. “The sooner we set this in motion, the better.”
Dash nods, but his gaze lingers on me for a moment, something unreadable in his expression. “You’re sure about this?”
“Positive,” I reply. “This isn’t about morality, Dash. It’s about strategy. Psychological warfare beats actual warfare every time.”
He smirks faintly, shaking his head. “You sound like Branson.”
“Good,” I say, my lips twitching into a faint smile. “Hopefully he’ll agree.”
We head toward the edge of camp, where Greg’s likely sulking after the meeting. As we walk, I can feel the tension between Dash and me starting to ease.