“Oh god,” she whispered. The ice machine’s dewy outside must have dripped onto the phone as she leaned against it. The phone was useless, and so was any other phone she could find. Without an encrypted phone she couldn’t contact Brian at all. Lucy slid down the wet ice machine and crumpled to the floor. She would have to find a way to finish the mission on her own.

Approximately two minutes later, Lucy raised her head, took a deep breath, and stood up. She tucked the ruined phone into her pocket and began to think.

The first thing she needed was a way into the party, and if Lucy knew anything about private parties, it was that her conservative pantsuit would not cut it. So she needed a disguise, and a disguise for the briefcase too, she realized. Lucy exited her little alcove and looked both ways down the hallway. Where in a luxury hotel could she find a party-worthy outfit?