“The anonymous tip was sent three days ago,” the officer said.

“From the exact same IP address on Oakcrest Drive.”

The silence in the room was absolute.

The trap they had built for me was falling apart, piece by piece.

But as I looked at Daniel’s pale face, I knew this was only the beginning of a much larger fight.

“Let’s go,” General Hayes said, gesturing toward the door.

Just as we turned to leave, the officer’s tablet began to chime rapidly with a new alert.

The officer tapped the glass screen of his tablet with a stylus.

The sharp, rhythmic clicking sounded like a countdown in the quiet room.

General Hayes stepped closer to the officer, his boots creaking slightly on our hardwood floor.

“Report, Specialist,” Hayes said.

“Sir, the network analysis is complete,” the officer replied.

He pointed to a map of the local area glowing on the screen.

A red pin was blinking repeatedly over a residential neighborhood three miles away.

“The IP address belongs to a residential fiber line,” the officer said.

“Whose name is on the account?” I asked, my voice tight.