“We need to get to a secure terminal,” Julian said, looking toward the private corridor.

“No,” I said, holding up a hand. “If I lock them out completely right now, they’ll just find another way in.”

“What are you proposing?” he asked.

“I want to see what they are looking for,” I said.

I looked back at the hallway where Adrian and Sterling had vanished.

The heavy mahogany doors at the end of the hall were slightly ajar.

A sliver of warm light cut across the patterned carpet of the corridor.

“Let’s go,” Julian said quietly.

We walked away from the crowded ballroom, leaving the noise of the string quartet behind.

The air in the private corridor was cooler, smelling of old paper and beeswax polish.

Our footsteps were muffled by the thick wool runner.

I kept my phone in my hand, watching the data packets transfer on the screen.

The unauthorized user was navigating deep into the load-bearing calculations for the seawall.

We stopped a few feet from the partially open door.

I could hear Adrian’s voice, tight and strained.