Calling it Operation Black Lion was Shiro's idea. He'd said it had a nice ring to it.

The cryptic envelope had seemingly done its job, interesting Z enough to get him to come out of hiding. Shiro had followed up the first letter with another, just as cryptic, but this time with an appointment. 'Sunday at nine. Galra warehouse. I talk to Z only.' That was it. Unsigned like the previous one.

Keith and Shiro were counting on Z to not be alone. The moment he showed himself, they would be ready with backup to move in and execute the largest scale takedown since Marmora a few months prior.

Keith was out in the van with Shiro, cover still intact...for now. Lotor was conspicuous by his absence. Keith figured he'd sensed a trap of some sort and was letting Z fall into it, keeping himself away until he could take over in the void left behind in Z's wake.

To make the ruse more believable, an old Marmora member had been escorted from medium-security prison to act as the information bearer. Prorok was a familiar face to the Galra and would be less suspicious than a cop in disguise.

Prorok had been given his story and a promise to lighten his sentence, and then sent out to do his thing. Talk, hedge, stall, until Z got there.

Despite having come up with the whole damn plan himself, Keith had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He tried telling himself it was just nerves, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong.

The seconds ticked on, turning into minutes and almost an hour, as Ezor walked lazy circles around Prorok, needling him with questions that he skirted around like the pro he was. Zethrid paced menacingly behind Ezor, while Acxa hung back on a chair with her legs up on her bike.

Keith watched the scene unfold on a screen inside the van. "Is Z coming or not?" he said into the mic that was wired to Prorok's earpiece, and Prorok echoed the question.

"Patience, sweetie." Though even Ezor's voice was starting to lose some of its calculated sweetness.

"A black sedan just pulled up at the side," the staticky voice of one of the beat cops on lookout came over the radio.

Finally. Some action. Keith waited with bated breath as Shiro responded,

"No one engage until we're sure it's him."

"Copy that."

Keith's eyes were trained on the visual of the sleek black car now transmitting on one of the screens in the van. It was completely still, windows tinted so dark he couldn't tell how many people were inside. His ears were still tuned into what was going on in the warehouse, though he'd stopped watching that screen in favor of staring daggers into the sedan.

It seemed like an eternity before the backdoor finally opened and a man stepped out. He was tall, more so than Lotor even. His gray suit looked about as expensive as they came. He was balding but the hair he did have was short and silver, the same shade as Lotor's. Much of his face was hidden by shades and a scarf, but Keith could make out how pale he was. This had to be Z. He walked with confidence—despite the just-noticeable tremor in his limbs—toward the back entrance. And that was when Keith's gut was proven right.

A loud crash sounded from inside the warehouse, and Z stopped in his tracks. Keith redirected his attention at the screen transmitting from Prorok's hidden camera.

Lance.

The reporter was running toward the front door, dodging various gang members' attempts to catch him. The only reason he hadn't been shot yet was the shock of sudden chaos. But the second that shock wore off, he'd be dead.

Keith's heart was racing as he picked up the radio and gave the order. "Move in! That's a civilian! Get him out alive."

No sooner had he shouted the words was he out of the van, gun in hand, running in with dozens of other officers. The last thing he saw on the screens was Z getting back in his car and being driven away.

Keith's eyes sought out a mop of brown hair amidst the mayhem. A moment later, he spotted it. Lance was crouching behind a stack of boxes, his path to the door blocked by bullets flying through the air as the gunfight unfolded. No one else had found him yet, caught up in battling the gang that was now pummeling police with gunfire.

Keith made his way over, some emotion swelling in his chest that he decided was anger. "What the hell were you thinking?" he hissed once he'd reached Lance, crouching down next to him.

Lance jumped at his voice and looked over, ready to bolt despite the fact that he was trapped. His eyes rose to Keith's face and he paused, looking uncertain, probably deciding whether he was more likely to die if he ran or stayed put.

"I thought I told you not to try and run," Keith shouted, unconcerned with trying to keep it down. With the shootout going on, no one was paying attention to them. "I told you to trust me."

Lance's expression soured. "And I told you I don't trust people who lock me up."

Apparently done explaining himself, Lance peeked out toward the exit, squared his shoulders, and, before Keith could grab him, slipped out into the open, his singular focus on the door.

Keith cursed and followed, grabbing Lance's wrist and pushing him behind a bike, away from a stray bullet. He peeked out, motioning for Lance to follow him, when he caught Acxa's eye. He pushed Lance back again as Acxa raised her gun and fired right at them. He pressed himself back against the bike. Lance watched him with wide eyes as he returned fire.

A yell from Ezor pulled Acxa's attention away and Keith used to opportunity to grab Lance's hand and run for the exit. Panting, they made it out. Keith forgot to let go until Lance doubled over and pulled his hand away to grasp at the stitch in his side.

"Why are you helping me?" Lance asked.

Shiro came up to them and Keith didn't have the chance to answer right away.

"Acxa saw me," Keith told Shiro. "My cover's blown."

"Cover?" Lance looked from Keith to Shiro's armored NYPD uniform, and back to Keith. "Oh."

Shiro nodded to Lance as if to ask 'Alright?' before turning back to Keith. "With the way you ran in like that, I'm surprised more people than just Acxa didn't see you."

"Z got away."

Shiro nodded. "But we'll get most of the gang. And thanks to you, we have enough on Lotor to get a warrant for him."

Keith didn't reply. Z was still out there. Shiro clapped him on the shoulder, and walked away to monitor the battle. Lance turned to him, face flushed slightly and eyes nervous.

"Thanks," he said. "And sorry my timing was awful."

Keith shook his head, surprised to find he wasn't mad at this dumbass for compromising the operation. "Go home," he said. "One of the officers will drop you off. You'll just have to come give a statement at some point after we make the arrests."

"Yeah sure, anytime."

Before things got any more awkward, Keith offered a small smile and walked away to join Shiro.