Remy assesses the two, apparently coming to a decision. “Sy, you can help Payne with that.” Sy frowns. “I thought I was your trusted hands?” Remy nods at Tristian. “You need a delicate touch to handle explosives. An artist’s touch. Mercer’s with me.” Tristian manages to look both pleased and insulted. “The only thing I know how to draw is my Beretta, and Pace made me check it at the gate.” Killian sighs, relenting, “Whatever. Let Picasso and Matisse get started. I just need someone to help me get this upstairs.”
