The message went out through channels I'd spent years learning to trust—and was now learning to weaponize.
We used the deputy director at Interpol, the one Webb had identified as Vane's man. Dante's people fed him a carefully constructed report: an anonymous tip had flagged the Lausanne facility as a potential target. Rival network. Hostile extraction. Celia Vane's location compromised. The report was designed to look like it had come from inside Vane's own organization, a whisper of betrayal that would force him to respond.
"If he's as paranoid as Webb says," I told Dante, watching the encrypted message disappear into the ether, "he won't trust anyone else to move her. He'll come himself."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then we'll know Celia isn't as important as we thought. And we'll find ano
