“Good to see you, Hannah,” Hayes said, turning to look at me with a calm nod.

“Thank you for helping us,” I said, holding Owen close to my chest.

Reyes opened the case, revealing a series of small transmitters and a tiny lapel microphone.

“This is a dual-channel digital recorder,” Reyes explained, his voice flat and professional. “It feeds directly to my receiver here, and it also saves an encrypted copy on an internal drive.”

Jake stripped off his heavy coat and unbuttoned his flannel shirt.

Reyes taped the small transmitter to Jake’s chest, checking the connection on his laptop.

“Test, one, two,” Jake said.

A green line bounced across Reyes’s screen.

“Audio is clear,” Reyes said. “The range is about half a mile. We will be parked just outside the development gate.”

“If Walter or Logan admits to falsifying the death certificate or diverting the military trust funds, we have federal conspiracy charges,” Hayes said.

“They will,” Jake said, buttoning his shirt back up. “Walter is arrogant. He thinks he has won.”

“Just get him to state the terms,” Reyes said. “Let him say the words.”