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Raven adjusted the crisp white collar of her stolen Navy uniform, the fabric stiff against her neck. The jacket fit her perfectly—almost suspiciously so—while Pierre’s sailor outfit looked like he’d raided a child’s dress-up box.
"Alright, genius." She turned to face him, hands on her hips. "One more time. What’s your job?"
Pierre tugged at the too-short sleeves of his uniform shirt. "Go to the library. Look for maritime maps. Steal whatever I can find."
"And?"
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