Chapter 161: I’m Here on Mr. Todd’s Orders.

It was 2:17 in the morning when they got back to the safe house.

Storm was waiting at the door. When he saw Nora get out of the car, his left hand came out of his pocket.

"Miss, the sniffer hasn't picked up any new signals since Ian's incident."

"How abput the status of the three people on the east side?"

"All asleep. No unusual movement."

Nora didn't head to her own room. She went straight to the conference room at the end of the hall. Storm followed and pulled the door shut behind him.

She sat down.

"Get Ian and Ryder up. Bring them separately. Ian first."

Storm didn't move.

"Now?"

"Now."

She reached into the hidden pocket of her skirt and set the brass coin on the table — a habit she had, needing something nearby to fidget with when she was thinking.

Then she dug her laptop out of her bag and plugged in the memory card. Surveillance screenshots from the warehouse lined up across the screen. The gait analysis markers were already logged.

Storm was gone for ten minutes.

Two sets of footsteps came down the hall, spaced apart. First, a guard led Ryder into the spare room next door — door closed, locked.

Then Ian.

The door opened.

Ian stood in the doorway. He was wearing the gray pajamas the safe house issued to everyone, his hair pressed flat and messy, his face still dazed from being woken up.

But his hands — Nora noticed — his left hand, fingers slightly curled, thumbnail rubbing back and forth across the second knuckle of his ring finger.

The kind of small movement only nervous people make.

"Come in and sit down."

Ian walked in and sat across the table.

Nora hadn't turned on the main lights. The only light in the conference room was a desk lamp shining down on the table, its circle of light cutting the space between them into one half bright, one half dark.

She turned the laptop screen around.

The sniffer's recorded data — timestamps, frequency bands, directions, receiver coordinates — all of it laid out.

Ian's face changed.

Not the sudden white of someone caught off guard. It was gray, starting at the corners of his eyes and spreading slowly across his cheeks.

"Miss—"

"Don't talk yet."

Nora pulled up the second set of data. The frequency spectrum of Ian's shortwave signal, receiver location: Eastside District 7.

"You sent a directed shortwave transmission today. The receiver was in Eastside District 7. That address was the one I gave the guard team before I left."

Ian's lips moved slightly.

"I didn't know—"

"Your phone was already handed in." Nora cut him off, her voice quiet but every word landing precisely. "What device did you use?"

Ian went silent.

His hands dropped below the table.

Nora tilted her head slightly.

Storm walked over from the door and set a sealed bag on the table.

Inside was a pillow. Ian's pillow.

"Open it."

Storm picked up a pair of scissors and cut along the seam of the pillowcase. The stuffing spilled out. He put on gloves and felt around inside for about twenty seconds.

He pulled something out.

A piece of metal about the size of a fingernail. The casing was disguised as a button battery, but along the bottom was a ring of very fine solder marks — a shortwave transmitter.

Nora looked away from the metal piece and back at Ian.

The conference room was quiet. Quiet enough to hear Ian swallow.

"Eight years." Nora's voice was flat. "I'll give you two options."

Ian's head dropped.

"First — tell me right now who your handler is. Whether The Ashes have anyone else inside the guard team. Once you do, you're out. You walk."

She paused for a beat.

"Second — say nothing. Wait for me to find out on my own. But by then, how I handle it — won't be walking."

What it would be instead, Nora didn't say. She didn't need to. Everyone in this room had been in this business long enough to know exactly what it meant.

Ian kept his head down.

Thirty seconds passed.

A long thirty seconds.

Storm stood to the side, his right hand already resting on the back of his waist.

Ian spoke. His voice was rough, like something old and wadded up was stuck in his throat.

"I'm not one of The Ashes."

Nora's fingers went still under the table.

"My handler... is Chase's personal contact. Name's Robbie Ellis. We use one-time codes — each one's burned after use."

Chase Gray.

Third son of the Gray family.

Calla's fiancé.

Nora's fingernail pressed into her palm, leaving a white mark.

She'd been tracing Fuse back toward the Preacher this whole time — and it turned out the line ran straight to the Gray family.

"When did Robbie first contact you?"

"Seven months ago."

"Through what channel?"

"My mom's house back home. The mortgage was coming due and she couldn't cover it. Robbie stepped in and paid off the remaining balance, then came to me and said if I gave him regular updates on your movements, the debt would be wiped clean."

Nora didn't respond.

Seven months. She thought back — seven months ago, she had just confirmed three of The Ashes' covert lines with Todd. During that stretch, the guard team had followed her across four cities, the highest concentration of movement she'd had in a long time.

That was when the Gray family had reached in.

"How many times did you report?"

"Nine times total. Just movements — where you went, who you met, how long you stayed. Nothing at the decision-making level—"

"You think you get to decide what information matters and what doesn't?"

Ian shut up.

Nora watched him for five seconds.

"How did Robbie find you?"

"He said... someone from the Flynn family referred him."

Nora's fingers tightened.

"The Flynn family? Which Flynn?"

"Kevin Flynn." Ian's voice dropped lower. "He said Kevin had done business with Chase while he was overseas. Kevin sold Chase some information about the Abyss unit, including the guard team roster."

Nora's fingernail pressed into her palm.

Kevin.

"What else did Kevin give them?"

"I don't know." Ian shook his head. "But Robbie said Kevin had a more complete list — not just the guard team. All of Abyss's covert contacts on the mainland."

Nora stood up.

This had gone beyond being a Gray family problem.

Kevin needed to be interrogated again.

Nora closed her eyes for a moment. "Take him out. Keep him isolated. Confiscate his phone and any electronics. No outside contact."

Storm grabbed Ian by the collar and hauled him out.

The hallway went quiet again quickly.

Nora sat alone for a few seconds, then put the metal piece into the sealed bag.

Fuse ran to the Gray family's line.

That meant every assumption she'd made about The Ashes infiltrating the guard team — all of it needed to be rebuilt from scratch.

Ian's leaked information led to Chase. Calla was marrying Chase. Julian was an outer-ring financier for The Ashes. Three lines twisted together, pointing toward a direction she hadn't let herself think too deeply about before —

The Gray family might not just be "connected" to The Ashes.

The Gray family might be the public face The Ashes wore.

She rubbed her face.

"Bring Ryder in."

She called through the door. The guard outside answered, and footsteps moved toward the next room.

Half a minute later, Ryder was brought in.

Calmer than Ian. He found a seat on his own after walking in, placed his hands on the table, fingers relaxed.

Nora watched him for a few seconds.

"Ryder. That signal fluctuation you had — the 0.3-second one that night — was it an accident, or intentional?"

Ryder looked up.

His eyes were red.

Not from fear. It was something that had been held down hard for a long time, finally finding a crack to push through.

"Miss, I'm not Fuse."

Ryder's voice trembled slightly, but every word was clear.

"That signal fluctuation that night — I was scanning Ian's frequency band."

Nora said nothing.

Ryder reached out with his left hand and folded back his right sleeve. The inner seam had been picked open along one section, and he pulled out a strip of flexible circuit board, thin as paper.

About the size of a palm. Curved, with heat-cut edges.

He set it gently on the table.

"I'm here on Mr. Todd's orders."