Page 79 of What We Burn

The room is silent. Odin lifts his cup, taking another sip.

“March 2018,” Holden murmurs. “You think he was offending all the way back then?”

“Correct.” Odin folds his hands. “Which means, if this exchange is to be believed, he didn’t act alone. He’s coordinated attacks with at least one other individual.”

“SMAN69,” Milo says. “Has Fenrir identified anything about the account holder?”

“Not yet. The forum’s user database was encrypted and partially corrupted when the servers were shut down. Fenrir is working on reconstructing the registration data, but it’s painstaking. What we do know is that SMAN69 was an active member of The Lodge for approximately three years, with a posting history that suggests a slowly developing understanding of digital security. He didn’t arrive careful. He learned to be.”

“The text Sage received.” Eli’s fingers are pressing into the table hard enough to blanch at the knuckles. “The spoofed one from Brock’s number. You think SMAN69 is the sender?”

“It’s our working theory.” Odin nods. “The technical capability is consistent. Spoofing a dead man’s phone number requires access to carrier-level systems or a very good proxy. That’s not amateur work.”

“Make sure she can’t talk after,” Knox repeats.

The silence that follows is deadly.

Holden closes the folder. “Fenrir needs to keep working the username. That’s priority one. I want registration data, IP logs, anything that survived the server wipe. If this person is still active, they’ll have left traces somewhere else.”

“Already in motion,” Odin says. “Fenrir has also begun cross-referencing the username against known associates of Davis—friends, colleagues, classmates. We doubt we’ll find anything that way, but it never hurts to try.”

“I can start scoping universities and schools,” Milo offers. “Split the work with Fenrir.”

Odin nods. “Good thinking. There’s one more thing.” Odin lets the pause stretch. “Fenrir also noted that SMAN69’s posting activity on The Lodge stopped abruptly in June 2019. No farewell. No deletion of the account. The posts simply ceased. This is consistent with an arrest, a death, or a deliberate decision to go dark.”

“Or a migration,” Milo murmurs, half to himself. His leg jiggles violently on the barstool, a sure sign his mind is racing a million miles an hour. “He could have moved to a different platform. Something more secure. If The Lodge went down, the users would have scattered. Some of them may have regrouped elsewhere.”

“Which is why Fenrir is also mapping the diaspora of Lodge users across successor platforms.”

Milo nods.

“Is that it?” I ask, watching Odin. “Anything else?”

He shakes his head once.

“Okay.” I suck in a deep breath. “Then we need to talk about Sage.”

Odin’s eyebrow arches, but he says nothing, waiting for me to speak.

“She wants in. She’s been asking for weeks, and every time we’ve shut her down.” I suck in a breath. “But she’s already a part of this, whether we want to acknowledge it or not. Keeping her out doesn’t protect her.”

The only indication Odin’s displeased with this conversation is the light tap of his finger against the arm of his chair. He’s silent for a long while, his gaze dancing around the room.

“My concern,” Odin says finally, “has always been that she’s a liability. An untrained civilian in the field is a risk multiplier.” He looks to Holden. “Your assessment?”

Holden leans forward. “She’s ready for inclusion in planning and surveillance. Full operational participation—I’d want to see her through two supervised runs before she’s cleared for field work.”

“Knox?”

Knox doesn’t hesitate. “She’s one of us.”

Four words that say more than enough.

“Micah?”

“She’s been ready for a while,” I say. “The only thing holding her back has been us.”

“Milo?”