The number was routed through two piggy-backed exchanges that officially didn’t exist. One of the exchanges was in the downtown office of a semi-retired mage who specialized in healing spells. The other exchange was through a troll pizza stuffer who ran a sports book on the side where an extra telecom link wouldn’t be noticed. Once every eight hours, Skater had a program that beeped all the drop numbers he had and dumped the messages into a blackboard system that held them for another eight hours before pushing them on to an apartment in Tacoma that he’d rented under an alias through a guy he’d paid but had never met. After the key had been exchanged through another drop, Skater had Kestrel set up the system. The street fixer was one of the best in the biz.