“I found the primary routing codes for their laundering operations in Zurich and Macau.”

Vincent looked at the screen, a cold smile touching his lips.

“Can you access them now?” he asked.

“I can lock them out,” I said. “If I input a master override through these nodes, their funds will freeze.”

“Do it,” Vincent said.

I sat down at the keyboard, my fingers flying across the keys.

The screen flashed red, then green, as the commands went through.

“It is done,” I said. “They are blind. They cannot move a single dollar.”

Vincent reached for his own phone and dialed a rapid succession of numbers.

“Get our team in Chicago to Clara’s sister’s house,” he ordered into the receiver.

“Secure the perimeter. No one goes in or out.”

He hung up and looked at me, his dark eyes intense.

“You did well, Clara,” he said. “They are paralyzed.”

We moved back to the main study of the high-security estate.

The walls were thick stone, and the windows were reinforced with bulletproof glass.

The smell of old leather and expensive scotch filled the air.