“We have to establish a line,” Julian said, pacing the lead-lined basement of the clinic. “He has the house bugged. If they say a word about the resistance, Alistair will know.”
“I have an idea,” Maya said, pulling off her lab coat.
Two hours later, a catering van pulled up to the service entrance of the Croft Estate. Maya Khan, wearing a generic uniform and a baseball cap pulled low, carried a crate of high-end sparkling water toward the kitchen.
The new security guards stopped her. “ID.”
Maya flashed a fake badge. “Delivery for Mr. Croft. He specifically requested the vintage Pellegrino.”
They waved her through.
Inside the kitchen, Victoria was pretending to arrange flowers, her hands shaking. Maya walked past her, placing the crate on the counter.
“Sign here, please,” Maya said, holding out a clipboard.
As Victoria reached for the pen, Maya slipped a small, cheap burner phone into the pocket of Victoria’s cardigan.
“The water is extra cold,” Maya whispered, her eyes meeting Victoria’s for a split second. “Keep it hidden.”
Victoria nodded imperceptibly. The **Resistance** had breached the fortress. They finally had a way to talk without the “Ghost at the Door” listening in.