ANMELDENPOV: Nora The coffee shop was called Birch & Co. and it was the kind of place that had regulars who came in at the same time every day and ordered the same thing without looking at the menu. I had taken the part-time position three weeks ago on Elias's recommendation, a cover that gave me a reason to be out of the apartment, a routine that looked normal, and a cash income that didn't connect to anything. The owner, a woman named Patrice who was in her sixties and had no patience for lateness or bad pourings, had asked me two questions at the interview. Could I stand for four hours and did I know how to make a flat white without being shown twice. I said yes to both and she hired me on the spot. I liked it there. That surprised me. The work was simple and physical and required just enough attention that the rest of my mind could run quietly in the background without pulling me under. The other staff left me alone in a respectful way, and the regulars were creatures of such reliable h
POV: Nora Elias moved me again that night. The new place was smaller, higher floor, different building. Same setup, same panic button in the same kitchen cabinet position, same reinforced locks. I was starting to recognize the pattern of how he built a safe space, the specific things he checked first, the order he did them in. It was the kind of routine that belongs to someone who has had to build safe spaces many times before and has learned which corners matter. He explained Katherine on the drive over. Not everything, I could tell by the way he edited himself, but enough. Katherine Wolfe was Marcus's mother and the original architect of the network Elias had been dismantling for years. Marcus hadn't built the Syndicate. He'd inherited it. Katherine had spent thirty years constructing it and had handed it to her son when she decided she was done being visible. She was the reason it had survived as long as it had. She was also, Elias said with the flat affect of someone reporting
POV: Nora Elias moved the timeline up by pulling in a favor I didn't ask about with a judge I didn't need to know. The court date on the fourteenth became a non-issue by the thirteenth, rescheduled on procedural grounds that his legal team manufactured cleanly enough that Marcus's lawyers couldn't object without looking obstructive. It bought us three weeks. I spent the first of those weeks listening. The bugs worked exactly as they were supposed to. Elias had a receiver set up in the apartment's second bedroom, and every evening he'd come over and we'd go through whatever had been captured that day. Most of it was routine. Business calls, catering logistics for a follow-up event, two conversations between Marcus and his assistant that confirmed he was moving money through a subsidiary but didn't give us enough specifics to act on yet. I took notes on everything. I had developed a system, color coded, cross-referenced against the files Elias had brought me in the first week. It w
POV: Nora The uniform was a black shirt, black trousers, flat shoes. I'd worn more uncomfortable things. The earpiece was small enough that my hair covered it completely, and the two bugs I was carrying were no larger than shirt buttons, adhesive-backed, already activated. Elias had walked me through the placement three times. The first in Marcus's private meeting room off the main hall, behind the wall panel to the left of the door. The second under the lip of the bar in the VIP section where Marcus's inner circle would spend most of the evening. Both locations had been scouted already. My job was to move through the event as part of the catering staff, reach both spots during the natural flow of service, place the devices, and leave. Simple in theory. Straightforward enough that I'd felt almost calm during the briefing. That was before I got inside. The gala was the kind of event that announced itself. The Wolfe Industries annual fundraiser, five hundred guests, a venue that ha
POV: Nora The injunction didn't go through. Elias's legal team moved faster, filed a counter-response within six hours, and by the following morning it had been blocked on procedural grounds. I read the summary email three times, not because I didn't understand it but because I needed to feel it settle. Marcus had moved quickly. Elias had moved quicker. That margin, that small gap between what Marcus could do and what we could counter, was the only space I had to work in. I needed to get better at working in small spaces. Elias came to the apartment two days later and put a notebook on the kitchen table. No laptop, no files. Just a plain notebook and a pen. "Sit down," he said. I sat. "This feels like school." "It's harder than school." He pulled out the chair across from me and sat with his forearms on the table. "Tell me what Marcus thinks of you." The question caught me off guard, which I suspected was the point. I thought about it honestly. "He thinks I'm smart enough to h
POV: Nora I sat with the page in my hand for a long time. The name on it was someone I had spoken to three days ago. Someone who had brought me soup when the morning sickness was bad in the first trimester. Someone whose number was still in my phone under a contact name with a small heart next to it, the kind you add without thinking because it feels true at the time. I put the page face down again. I couldn't look at it anymore tonight. "Okay," I said. Elias watched me. "Okay you believe me, or okay you're in." "Both." I pressed my fingers against the table, grounding myself in the solid surface of it. "But I need you to understand something before we go any further. I'm not an operative. I'm not trained for this. I'm a twenty-eight year old woman who is six months pregnant and whose entire life just got reframed in the last two hours." I kept my voice even. "If I do this, I do it on my terms. I set the limits on what I will and won't do. I don't take risks that put this baby i







