Page 109 of The Enforcer’s Pawn

Cara’s eyes narrow. “You left him a path?”

Abramov doesn’t blink. “A watched one.”

I look at the screen. “And someone used it.”

Cara’s face changes as she follows the route. “Patrick isn’t trying to get on the guest list.”

“No,” I say.

Her eyes lift to mine. “He’s using the dinner packets to put a message at the table.”

Abramov reaches for the nearest secure phone. “We can cancel the delivery access.”

Cara looks back at the screen. “Let him think it still works.”

I don’t like that she’s right.

Maksim arrives before I can answer. Elena is at his side, and Leonid follows them with a slim folder. Dima comes in last and takes the rear wall. Every man in the comms center sits straighter. Cara stays where she is with one hand on the back of Yuri’s chair and her eyes on the charity file.

Maksim looks at her, then at me. “What did he touch?”

Abramov points to the main screen. “A dormant vendor account under Sable Crown Renovation woke up less than an hour ago,” he says. “My office flagged it because it used Oleg’s old service path.”

Yuri brings up the next file. “The account pushed a courier order through Sable Crown Courier. It’s tied to the same Vostok shell network.”

Abramov taps the route map. “The courier order is for tomorrow’s dinner materials.”

Yuri opens another file. “Berezka Print Services made the materials. Menus, dinner cards, table folders, place cards, guest packets. Hundreds of pieces.”

Cara looks at the screen. “So the delivery looks normal.”

“Yes,” Yuri says. “That’s the point.”

Maksim folds his hands. “Where is the message?”

Abramov points to the main screen. “The message itself isn’t marked. It could be inside any one of the dinner packets.”

Elena’s face clouds over. “So we don’t know which piece carries it.”

Elena looks at Maksim. “Then cancel the dinner.”

Maksim’s face hardens. “No.”

Elena’s eyes narrow. “Maksim.”

“No,” he says again. “We cancel, and every man in Moscow knows someone scared us inside our own house. We lose face, and Morozov wins before he sits down.”

Abramov’s deputy brings up a tablet. Abramov looks at it, and his face clears. “Berezka Print Services handles printed materials for Nadezhda Children’s Medical Fund.”

Leonid looks at the guest list. “Nadezhda’s medical supply contact is expected at tomorrow’s dinner.”

Elena looks up. “Lena Markovic?”

Abramov nods. “Medical supply consultant. Clean on paper.”

Elena looks genuinely surprised. “She works with the public side of many charities.”

Yuri opens the service record. “She’s cleared for the dinner, and one dinner packet is listed under her name.”