S.A.S.
“Well, hello there.”
Inside: a foam nest for three ovals—the same dispersal remotes. Two nests empty. One still full. Next to it, a slim hard case the size of a brief. Pauly popped it with a tension pin and stared.
“What is it?” Wolf asked.
“Keys,” Pauly said, reverent and horrified. “A salted certificate chain to a water utility SCADA segment. Whoever holds this can open, close, or… dose.”
“Not anymore,” Jack said. He took the case and the remaining remote, passed the remote to Pauly. “Brick it. Then gift-wrap both for Gale with a bow and a hiss.”
Bab Populer