“You can’t touch the accounts,” Ethan said. “I changed the security protocols this morning.”

“You changed the local protocols,” I said, my voice dropping. “You forgot about the Swiss escrow accounts.”

The progress bar reached seventy percent.

The phone was silent for a three-second beat.

I could hear him breathing on the other end, his calm facade slipping.

“What did you do?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“I just sent the Swiss compliance team the true ledger,” I said. “The one showing the payments to Vance’s campaign fund.”

“You’re lying,” Ethan said.

“Check your terminal, Ethan,” I said. “In about ten seconds, your corporate lines of credit are going to freeze.”

Another heavy blow struck the door.

The steel cart scraped against the concrete floor as the door was pushed open three inches.

A man’s face appeared in the gap.

It wasn’t a police officer.

It was Vance’s chief of security, a man named Miller.

“Put your hands where I can see them!” Miller shouted, pointing a taser through the gap.

Liam grabbed a heavy iron pipe from a nearby utility rack.