“This is state-level security,” Marco muttered, his fingers flying across the keyboard. “Edward Vance didn’t just steal from a syndicate. He stole from someone with deep pockets.”

“How long?” Ryker asked.

“An hour to run the first dictionary attack,” Marco said. “If I can spoof the handshake protocol.”

A sudden, low hum vibrated through the floorboards.

The lights in the basement flickered once, then dimmed.

On the wall, the master security monitor showed the main power grid going offline.

The backup generators kicked in with a dull roar, but the cameras went black for three agonizing seconds.

When the feed returned, the southern gate camera was dead.

“They cut the main line,” Marco said, standing up.

“They’re coming for the drive,” Ryker said, his voice dead calm.

He looked at the laptop screen, where a progress bar had just appeared, slowly ticking upward.

“We don’t leave this room,” Ryker said.

He checked the magazine of his weapon, the click of the metal loud in the silent room.

Outside the heavy steel door, we heard a faint, metallic scratch.

Someone was on the other side.