“Can you trace where the money went?” I asked.

“The decryption is running now,” Reyes said.

The progress bar on the screen showed twelve percent.

The small fan inside the drive began to whir, a tiny, high-pitched hum in the quiet room.

Outside, we heard the faint sound of heavy boots walking down the corridor.

Jake moved to the window, his tall frame blocking the grey light filtering through the snow-speckled glass.

“They’re setting up a barricade at the main gate,” Jake said, his voice tight. “We won’t be able to drive out of here.”

“We don’t need to drive out through the main gate,” Hayes said. “There’s an old supply road behind Sector Four that leads to the county highway.”

“Is it plowed?” I asked, looking down at Owen’s soft, sleeping face.

“Not well,” Hayes said. “But a four-wheel drive can make it if you don’t stop.”

The progress bar on the tablet hit forty-five percent.

“Come on,” Reyes whispered, tapping his fingers on the desk.

“Tell me about the money, Daniel,” Jake said, his eyes still fixed on the window. “Where did they move the four hundred and eighty thousand?”