Trevor walked into the new Ops Center yawning, a cuppa firmly in his hand. Lattes were fine now and again, but there was nothing quite like a cup of Assam first thing in the morning.

Coop was already there, going over with Cal the ins and outs of the monitoring equipment they'd set up for the Zoo.

"Taking notes?" Trevor asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'm submitting plans for my own at the office the moment I get back. I'll let the Boss worry about selling it, but we've really got to have something like this."

Trevor sank into a chair. "So, I'm here for the start, but you'll be on your own, once things settle into a routine. Of course Cal will be around too, and in a pinch you could maybe talk to Cassidy, if our Ops Center is slow."

"Hey, I wanna talk to everyone. And what's with Christopher?"  Coop asked.

Trevor shrugged "I've no idea. I'm not sure I want to know. I'm glad he's fixated on Marc and the babies myself. He's gonna be a problem when he gets old enough to talk. I can hear the lectures now," Trevor added with a grin.

"And Marc? He can, like, alter minds, eh?"

"Yeah, our own brain surgeon," Trevor commented. 

"What's that?" Coop asked, actually looking out a window for the first time since he'd been there, he'd been so focused on the mission.

Trevor bent over and looked where Coop was staring. "Dragons."

"Dragons," Coop repeated.

"Folks who can teleport and talk to one another mentally you accept but dragons are one step too far?" Trevor asked with a grin.

"Well..." Coop replied thoughtfully, watching dragons playing in the salmon colored sky of dawn. "Now that you put it that way..."

Rimes, catching the tail end of that, grinned.  "I hear they give rides, Coop."

"Yeah?" Coop asked, his eyes going wide.

"Yeah," Trevor replied. "Just don't let Puff take you up."

"Really Coop, don't feel like you need to sleep draped over the monitors.  I'm actually rather envious.  If I didn't have to deal with the budget you'd be out of luck," Rimes said.

"Yeah, well, once Terry takes it, I'll take some time off. But the beginning of an op is so tricky I want to keep an eye on things from here too."

Rimes nodded.  "I agree.  So we're all set?" he asked, looking at the clock.  "It's what?  About four in the morning in Vegas?  And Leroy auditions as a dealer at one this afternoon?"

"Right," Coop replied checking his notes as Terry sauntered in.

"The ladies and Leroy report they're all awake and having breakfast. They'll be in shortly. With, I'm afraid to say," Terry added looking at Rimes, "Ian Blakesley."

Rimes smiled.  "It's not a problem.  He was right."

Trevor raised an eyebrow at Terry.  "So, you're at least marginally comfortable with how to contact them, and how they can contact you?" he asked.

"Yeah. It's pretty odd at first, but it sure beats coded text messages to cellphones."

"Telepathy?" Stephen said, joining them, coffee in his hand.  "Just be careful.  Keep it tight and short."

"Right. Well, on a normal op we limit contact so that will work," Terry said.

"Good, because if you know how it's easy to eavesdrop and then trace it back," Stephen said.  "You have everything you need here and for there?  Tobie and Chance checked into the casino last night.  They'll get with you when you're back in Vegas.  And, I've arranged for the back up you might need.  They'll be in place tonight, late Vegas time and know how to reach you, Terry.  Expect a contact before morning.  They've worked with Tobie and Chance before."

"Good," Terry replied as the Jos and Leroy sauntered in, Ian stalking along behind them, looking considerably out of place.

Stephen watched the parade and sternly suppressed a grin.  He knew exactly how Ian felt.  He'd already asked Tabitha get a guest room ready for him at the commune for the duration, the dormitory quarters at the House being less than ideal, in his view, for a man whose beloved was saving the world while pregnant with his kid.  "Morning," he said.

Leroy grinned, looking remarkably content for a man going into danger. Ian grunted a greeting.  Trevor raised an eyebrow and busied himself with Cal in discussing one piece of equipment that had nothing whatever wrong with it.

The Jo's smiled and arrayed themselves artistically, possibly instinctively.  "Good morning," Bobbie said cheerfully.  "Been plotting more ways to keep us alive?"

Stephen bit his lip and avoided looking at Ian.

Ian magicked himself a cup of tea and sat down. He looked less than amused but he did, Trevor swore, wink at Betty Jo.  She winked back.

"No," Rimes said.  "Just reviewing those we've already plotted.  Why, have you a suggestion?"

Bobbie grinned.  "I'll let you know."

"So, are we all ready to head on in?" Terry asked, looking around at each of his four operatives. "So far as I can tell we haven't lost a beat, and things won't start up until this afternoon anyway."

He was rewarded with four nods.  "When ever you are, boss," Bobbie said, apparently the spokesman - for the Jo's anyway.  "Oh, yeah sure," Leroy added right afterwards. "Let's do it. Sooner started sooner finished."

Stephen watched as Betty met Ian's eyes across the room, smiled briefly and then all five of them were gone.  He sighed.  Was it too early to offer Ian a drink?

Ian closed his eyes for a moment then lifted his tea cup to his lips. "So. Mind if I stay for a bit?" he asked no one in particular.

Rimes looked around and then shook his head.  "Not at all.  I think most of us will be for a while," he said, watching as the display monitors began to come on line with the feed from Vegas.

"Well I have a few things to see to," Stephen said.  "Stop by before you leave," he added, looking at Ian as he left.

Ian nodded and returned his attention to the monitors.

 

Tobie slid into a seat at the blackjack table and slid five one hundred dollar bills across the felt.  The watched as the dealer counted them for the camera and then counted her chips, keeping his hands in sight at all times, his movements practiced and sure.  She restacked the piles and looked around the room idlely, while the other players got settled.  Spotting the waitress she signaled her interest and turned the whole of her attention to the cards she being dealt.  Personally she preferred five card stud but her preferences weren't an issue at the moment.

She smiled vaguely at the cocktail waitress, dressed like an updated playboy bunny without the ears or tail, and asked for a gin and tonic, specifying Bombay sapphire.  She and Chance had a credit line with the casino, courtesy of Stephen, that would ensure she got it and that no one would dare be so gauche as to expect her to pay for it.  Her losses, in theory, would be such that the casino would more than recoup the cost.  Besides, gamblers who drank while gambling were generally gamblers who lost...eventually.

She pushed a chip forward and bought a card, bringing her total to twenty and signaled to the dealer she was going to stay.  Then she let her eyes continue their idle review of the room, noting the camera placement, picking out the security emplacements, human and technical.  It was a survey that went on through several hands, two of which she won, before she was reasonably sure she had them all and had also gotten a start on mapping the pattern of movement.  When her drink arrived she dropped a chip in the highball glass on the tray worth enough to ensure attentive service but not so large as to make her remarkable or suspect as wanting something else.

The dealer smiled a thanks at the waitress between hands, and fell into a rhythm as the table filled up.  Nothing remarkable, quick sure movements, his eyes and mind on his job. Above, in the control center of the casino, the spotters kept an eye on the new guy and saw nothing to get excited about. He wasn't the best dealer ever, but he was experienced and seemed easy with the players, flirting a bit with one older lady who increased her bets as a result.

Chance, watching from the bar made as detailed and unobtrusive a survey as Tobie had, and one they'd compare later in their room.  He'd picked his table carefully, knowing Terry could see him clearly through the hacked CCTV feed.  As he mapped the room, he conveyed the information back to using the simple expedient moving the bar straw he was chewing on from the right side to the left side of his mouth.  Terry would then track his line of sight and add the detail to the board. 

The waitress, inured to long hours in spike heels from other venues and wise in the ways of casino crowds from the same venues, established a circuit pattern that afforded maximum coverage of the casino floor with the minimum of wasted steps, earning the approval of the bar manager who was watching her carefully.  She allowed just the right amount of physical contact with the customers and used a deft movement and a light word to move on before it got out of hand.  All in all, she was exactly what the customers wanted, efficiently moving the booze from the bar to the gullet of the gamblers, friendly and beautiful, and willing to help her fellow servers.

Terry, in his apartment checked his own feeds. All seemed to be going well. He allowed himself to relax a bit, checking his line of sight on the apartment where the Jo's were living and the hotel room that was Leroy's. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Coop in the Ops Center at the Refuge, took the coffee Trevor had brought by gratefully. "So, all well?"

"So far so good."