Noah watched Kendo and Emma gradually disappear from sight before turning back to Barry to reopen the conversation.
"Barry Burton, I'm telling you—I'm not lying about this."
"Fine. So where's the proof?"
"I don't have physical evidence, but I have Jill's authorization."
Noah paused, weighing his options. If he tried to rush Katherine Warren's side on his own, the security would take him down before he could get a word out. Even if Jill recognized him, the others would treat him as a threat. His best bet was using Barry as a bridge to get close to Jill and the Mayor's daughter.
"Jill gave you authority?" Barry looked at Noah with deep skepticism.
"That's right. Jill came to Kendo's shop four days ago and met me. Ostensibly, she was there to tune her Samurai Edge, but her real purpose was to brief me."
"To brief you? I don't see anything special about you that would make Jill choose you as a contact."
"Because Jill knows the recent attacks aren't just isolated incidents. She wanted someone with sharp observation skills—someone not in uniform—to keep an eye on the perimeter during this banquet."
"Ha. So you're saying you met Jill once, and now you're claiming to be her informant? And you want me to take you straight to her and Katherine?"
"Exactly. That's the situation."
As Barry repeated the words back to him, Noah realized he had successfully planted the "informant" concept in Barry's mind. Now, he just had to make the lie look like the truth.
"Well, since you put it that way, I'll just check with Jill over the radio. It'll be quick and easy."
Barry reached for his ear, moving to click the switch on his headset.
Noah's heart nearly stopped. He couldn't let that happen. Jill hadn't told him a damn thing that day; if she got on the line and denied it, Noah would be arrested as a high-risk suspect on the spot.
"Wait! Have you wondered why Jill chose me instead of you or the other S.T.A.R.S. members?" Noah barked, stopping Barry's hand in its tracks.
"You say you're her man, but you don't want me to confirm it with her?" Barry looked at him like he'd lost his mind.
To Barry, this behavior was a massive red flag. For all he knew, Noah was a terrorist trying to use him to get a clear shot at the VIPs.
"The second you use that radio, every guard and officer on this frequency hears it. That includes the rest of S.T.A.R.S."
"So? What's the problem with that?"
"If Jill wanted the whole squad to know, what would be the point of her choosing me to talk to you privately?"
Noah's counter-question made Barry hesitate.
Private channels and outside help? It was a classic move. If Jill was playing things close to the chest, there had to be a reason.
"Alright," Barry said, his tone low. "If I don't use the radio, how are you going to prove you are who you say you are?"
It was a fair question. But Barry didn't realize he was talking to a hardcore fan who knew everyone's secrets better than they knew them themselves.
"Jill's father is Dick Valentine," Noah said calmly. "He was a legendary thief. Jill's talent for picking locks? She didn't learn that at the academy. She inherited it from him."
Noah didn't talk about Jill's tactical record or Barry's history. He went straight for the one thing Jill was ashamed of—her family's criminal past. She considered it a conflict with her identity as a cop and kept it buried. Barry was one of the very few people she had ever trusted with that secret.
When the words left Noah's mouth, Barry's face went pale.
He was stunned. How could this man know Jill's deepest secret? Was he really that important to her? Was he a friend on the same level as Barry himself?
No matter how many doubts he had, the information was 100% accurate. It was exactly what Jill had told him in confidence.
If Jill had shared that with this man, it meant she trusted him completely. It also meant she must have instructed him on how to approach Barry without using the compromised radio. After all, this guy had identified Barry in a crowded party while Barry was in plain clothes. If Jill hadn't briefed him, how else could he have known?
"Fine," Barry sighed after a long silence, glancing toward Jill's position. "I'll take you over. You can talk to her face-to-face."
Noah had won.
"Wait here for a second," Noah said. "I'll be right back."
"Where the hell are you going now?" Barry asked, confused. The kid seemed so desperate for speed a second ago.
"I need to confirm if the threat I spotted is real."
"..."
Barry felt a surge of helplessness. This guy was acting on "hunches" but then running off to play detective. He couldn't figure Noah out, but his gut told him that letting the kid do what he wanted was the best move for now.
Noah sprinted away from Barry, heading toward a secluded corner of the venue. He scanned the area for tools.
The banquet was massive and well-equipped, so it didn't take long to find what he needed.
He grabbed a thumb-sized branch, several thick cylindrical candles used for mood lighting, and a roll of heavy-duty tape.
He didn't have a better plan. He had been searched at the entrance, and Kendo's guns were locked in the car. He had no weapons. He had to improvise a "prop."
Noah began taping the candles around his waist, one by one, then pulled his shirt and suit jacket tight to conceal them. To add to the silhouette, he even taped a few to the inside of his pant legs.
It made him look a bit bulkier, but since Kendo's old suit was already a size too large for his "clothes-hanger" frame, he could pull it off. As long as he didn't take a deep breath in front of someone, no one would notice the "explosive" belt.
Once he was rigged, Noah looked around nervously to make sure Barry hadn't seen his DIY project. Barry seemed to be waiting patiently, likely relying on his own confidence as a S.T.A.R.S. operative—he probably figured a skinny kid like Noah couldn't do much damage even if he tried something.
With everything ready, Noah walked back into Barry's line of sight and nodded.
"Let's go."
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