“They never deactivate the master override,” he said. “They are too lazy to rewrite the system.”

“We will need weapons,” I said. “And a plan to get past the lobby.”

“I have a safehouse near the financial district,” Romano said. “It has everything we need.”

I looked at the silver keycard in his hand.

“This is a suicide run, Romano,” I said quietly.

“I am an old man, Elena,” he replied. “My legacy is all I have left.”

He started walking back toward the damaged SUV, his posture straighter than before.

I followed him, the cold rain soaking through my jacket, but my mind was focused on the tower.

We drove through the quiet streets of the financial district, the tall buildings rising up like canyon walls.

The safehouse was located in the basement of an old textile warehouse.

Romano unlocked the heavy iron door, and the smell of dust and gun oil greeted us.

He flipped a switch, illuminating a small room filled with wooden crates and metal lockers.

On the wall hung a blueprint of the corporate headquarters.