The air in the garage was stale and smelled of exhaust fumes.

I held the red folder tight against my ribs as we walked toward the entrance.

The courthouse was a towering structure of grey stone and dark glass.

Two armed federal guards stood at the heavy glass doors.

“Colonel Richards,” one of the guards said, stepping forward.

“General Avery told us to expect you.”

He held the door open, and we stepped into the warm lobby.

Our footsteps echoed on the polished marble floor.

We were led past the security checkpoints and up a private elevator.

The elevator opened onto the fourth floor, where the lights were dimmed.

A woman in a dark grey pantsuit stood waiting for us in the hallway.

She had her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, and her expression was sharp.

“I am Sarah Vance,” she said, extending a hand.

“Assistant United States Attorney.”

“Colonel Natalie Richards,” I said, shaking her hand.

“And this is Sterling.”

She nodded curtly and motioned for us to follow her into a conference room.