Page 61 of In Shining Armor

“We could use one of the old code words that he and I made up while I was at Le Rosey.”

Dieter nodded. “I’d forgotten about those. He had his phone in the barracks one night, and I took it away from him for fun. It was just a long list of you two texting weird, single words back and forth.”

“Yeah, it was stupid, but it’s a silly little code that only he and I know.” It was almost twin language, and Flicka wondered if Wulf had just taught her a substitution-cipher language that he and Constantin had made up. “That’ll work.”

Dieter sat at the kitchen table and emptied her gold, glittering purse in front of him. “As soon as you’re done sending, I’ll have to pull the battery again. It would probably be smart to destroy it at that point. Do you need to write down any of the phone numbers before we pull the SIM card and break it?”

Flicka never needed to write down phone numbers. “I’m good.”

He finished assembling the phone and held it out to her. “I don’t have my screwdriver to screw the back onto it, so hold the back in place. My guy will catch it when you hit send.”

Flicka selected most of the people on her contacts list and texted,I have to disappear.I’m going away for a while to think. I can’t deal with everything. I just want to walk the Earth and think. I’ll be in touch when I can. It might be a few months. Fiddlesticks.

Fiddlestickshad been their code word that she was all right and safe. Wulfie had sent a text of just that one word to her after that guy in Munich had tried to gun him down a few years before.

Dieter had saved Wulf that time, too. He’d pulled Wulfram to the pavement just as the shot rang out and the crowd dove away, saving his life.

“Just send it to everyone right now?” she asked, confirming before she hit the button.

“My guy will catch it, bounce it around the world for a few hours to hide our location and towers, and then it will go to all the phone numbers you selected.”

Flicka tapped the send button, let the icon whirl, and handed Dieter the phone.

He whipped the back off her phone, yanked the batteries, scratched out the SIM card with his fingernail, and broke the tiny chip with his fingertips. “Okay. It’s dead.”

Flicka wished she had a damn phone. The world felt like it ended at the walls of that very small apartment.

Dieter texted someone on his phone and, a second later, nodded. “He got it. It’ll go out in a few hours.”

“Okay, good.”

He stretched. “Let’s see what Aaron has left us.”