The Blue Lotus Motel was a three-story concrete horseshoe wrapped around a cracked asphalt parking lot.
After leaving Eleanor locked inside the room, Vernon stood in the deep shadow of the vending-machine alcove, his collar turned up against the damp night air. The motel was quiet except for the distant hum of traffic and the occasional buzz of failing neon.
He pulled out his phone and opened a wireless network analyzer.
Dr. Ethan Miller would never risk using the motel’s public Wi-Fi. Not if he was hiding from Adrian van Laurent.
Vernon began walking the lower balcony, his eyes fixed on the screen.
Most of the signals were exactly what he expected—cheap phones, aging laptops, unsecured guest connections.
Then the display spiked.
Opposite Room 118, a heavily encrypted hidden hotspot
