Static tension, thick enough to taste, hummed through the air within the safehouse. Melissa sat on the floor with her legs crossed, her laptop open, and three devices causing signal interference in a triangle formation. As the blue light from her numerous screens highlighted the bags under her eyes, her face took on a ghostly pallor. It was evident that she was very focused because her fingers were moving quickly across the keyboard as though each keystroke would determine whether or not she survived.
She explained, "I've rerouted the feed through a dummy relay node in Zagreb," without raising her eyes from her work. The delivery was stiff and businesslike, but Lila could hear the quiver in her voice. "That should buy us another twelve hours of silence."
Before focusing on the windows an
