Hawkeye picked up the papers, examined it briefly, and sighed. Ripping the cap off a nightflare, he held the papers to the fizzing, sparking glow and dropped the burning fragments to the floor. He tossed the flare into the room, and said nothing as they limped out.
They found themselves on a balcony overlooking the the city. A quick scramble later, they were on the roof of the next building, and neither of them looked back as the factory erupted into flame.
There was something between them that was easier to say with silence than words, so she offered him an arm. They walked together into the night.
Later, they would have to find Jerem, she thought, and there was still the matter of finding and destroying the rest of the Earl’s weapons.
But that could wait. Tonight, it was her and Hawkeye. She brushed up against him briefly, and he smiled questioningly.
“You know, I think you still owe me a dance.”
He nodded, eyes twinkling. The smile grew a little.
“Yes, Elletra, I think I do.”