Watertight

“You’ve checked the cargo right, the last thing we need is that thing going off when we’re halfway across the continent?” asked Pike for the fourth time in as many minutes.

“It’s secure,” Maisie assured him, the steel soles of her boots clanging against the grated floor as she dropped down from the ladder and into the cockpit. “You worry too much, this deal is as watertight as they come.”

Pike shrugged as she shed her jacket and dropped into the seat next to him, her grey t-shirt and black trousers matching his own, he did his best not to stare at the scar running from shoulder to little finger, or the plating around her elbow.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, “that’s what we thought about the last deal as well.”

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