Chapter 12 - THE SAFE HOUSE ON THE CANAL
The gravel road gave way to an old, overgrown towpath running parallel to the rusted industrial canal. Elowen killed her lights, coasting the last hundred yards into the shadow of a abandoned boat-repair barn before cutting the engine completely.
The SUV roared past on the upper highway above, its searchlight sweeping harmlessly over the treetops before disappearing into the mist.
Elowen sat in the pitch darkness, her chest heaving as she let out a long, trembling breath.
She retrieved a small paper card tucked inside her driver's license slot—a card given to her two years ago by Nora, an investigative journalist and former archivist colleague who specialized in tracking fraudulent offshore trusts and illegal surrogacy syndicates.
Using Mara’s burner phone, Elowen dialed the encrypted local number written on the back.
The line rang four times before a low, sharp voice answered: "Speak."
"Nora... it's Elowen," she gasped, her voice trembling. "I have the Zurich files for Project Erion. And they're tracking my car."
A heavy silence fell over the line, followed by the rapid clatter of a computer keyboard.
"Elowen? Where are you right now?" Nora asked, her tone instantly shifting from guarded to intense focus.
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"The old canal barn off Highway 17."
"Stay in the shadows," Nora instructed crisply. "I'm ten minutes away in an unmarked van. Do not answer any incoming calls on that burner phone except mine."
