"Do I want to know?" Cory asked, fighting a smile.
She showed him the exchange. "For the record, I only taught her the theory. And only because she asked how cars worked without keys."
"Naturally." His lips twitched. "Very educational."
Kenji: If it helps, Axel already taught him to make a shiv from a juice box.
Maya: No he didn't.
Kenji: But he WOULD.
The moment of levity felt good, necessary. A reminder that somewhere in Alaska, her team was safe, still themselves, still finding humor in the darkness.
Her laptop chimed. Video call from Zara.
"That was fast, even for her." Izzy accepted the call.
Zara's face filled the screen, clearly huddled in a tent, her breath visible in the cold. "Can't sleep when my girl's in trouble. Nice receipt, by the way. Very illuminating."
"Please tell me you found something useful."
"Oh, I found something interesting." Zara's fingers flew across her keyboard, screen sharing to show her results. "That five thousand dollar Visa card? Someone loaded it at a Reno convenience store, just like the receipt shows."
"We know that part?—"
"But here's where it gets fun." Zara pulled up transaction records. "The day before, that same card received a payment of $4,562. Want to guess what for?"
Izzy leaned forward. "What?"
"An aviation technical manual on Amazon. Specifically, 'Advanced Servo Actuator Systems and Maintenance.' Retail price? Fifty bucks. Listed price from this particular third-party seller? $4,562."
"That's insane markup," Cory said, leaning over Izzy's shoulder to see better.
"That's money laundering," Zara corrected. "And here's the beautiful part—the manual was never shipped. Order was placed, payment processed, then mysteriously cancelled after the money cleared."
Izzy's brain worked through the implications. "So someone lists a fake manual for crazy money..."
"Buys it themselves with a prepaid card, Amazon takes their cut, rest gets deposited to the seller account. Seller withdraws the clean money, loads it onto a fresh card with a little extra to make a round five thousand." Zara looked pleased with herself. "Classic washing technique. Small-time, but clever."
"Can you trace the seller account?" Cory asked.
"Already did. Fake name, fake address, IP address bounced through three VPNs."
“So we’ve got a dead end.” Izzy couldn’t help the dejection lacing her voice.
"Yeah, but we do know it's not MedFlight," Zara pointed out. "Big corporations don't need to launder five grand through Amazon. This is someone smaller. Someone who knows the system but isn't part of it."
"Someone local," Cory added. "Who knew about Izzy's jacket, knew Brad would be a weak link."
"I'll keep digging," Zara promised.
After they disconnected, Izzy slumped in her chair. Another piece of the puzzle that didn't quite fit. Her eyes felt like sandpaper, and her brain was moving through molasses.
"We should sleep," Cory said, but made no move to leave.
"We should." She didn't move either.
His phone rang, startling them both. "My sister. It's one in the morning her time?—"
