Arthur looked at me, a faint, sad smile touching his lips.

“The vote is unanimous,” Arthur said. “Preston Hayes is stripped of his title and all association with this firm, effective immediately.”

I felt a sudden, sharp release of tension in my chest, but I could not stop now.

“And his access to the corporate treasury?” I asked.

“Revoked,” Arthur said, already typing rapidly on his laptop. “I am sending the termination notice to our clearing bank now.”

The wall clock read 2:22 PM.

Eight minutes remained.

Samantha stood up, her leather handbag clutched to her chest.

“This is a mistake,” she stammered, backing toward the door. “You will all be sued for this.”

“I wouldn’t worry about civil lawsuits, Samantha,” I said, looking her dead in the eye. “I would worry about the federal prosecutors.”

Her eyes widened in terror.

“What are you talking about?” she whispered.

“The FBI has been monitoring the Panama accounts for three weeks,” I said. “They were only waiting for Preston to authorize the final transfer to lock the handcuffs.”

Samantha’s hand fumbled for the doorknob behind her.