Page 420 of Black Reign

Ghost.

No.

Xavier.

Both.

I search.

Not for Glinchesvsky.

For the credential.

People lie.

Machines lie too, but only when people tell them how.

And people get lazy.

Glinchesvsky built a twenty-year hiding place because nobody ever questioned the security layer itself.

Papa did.

Now I do.

The credential wakes every time it needs to communicate.

Short bursts.

Never enough to create a pattern.

Unless you stop looking at where it goes and start looking at when.

I line up the activity.

European business hours.

Then Moscow.

Then London.

Then Monaco.

Not enough.

I add physical travel.

Glinchesvsky's official movements.

My fingers stop.

Three overlaps.

Five.

Nine.

Xavier sees it.