Ethan nodded.

“She’s doing it right now, from the Collins estate in Upper Arlington,” Ethan said.

My father looked down at the tablet, his jaw clenched.

“How much have they copied?” my father asked.

“Sixty-eight percent,” Ethan replied. “The transfer rate is climbing.”

Martin looked up from the mud, his face pale under the flashing police lights.

“You can’t prove anything,” Martin stammered, his voice cracking.

Two police officers ran down the alley, their heavy boots splashing in the puddles.

“Hands where we can see them,” one officer shouted at Martin.

Martin didn’t fight; he just slumped onto the wet pavement.

My father ignored him and focused entirely on Ethan’s tablet.

“Can we cut the connection from here?” my father asked.

“The remote server room is locked down,” Ethan said. “We need to bypass the security wall.”

“Use my master key,” my father said.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black hardware token.

It was the size of a USB drive, glowing with a faint white LED.

“I kept the primary root access active,” my father said.