The blue and red lights of emergency vehicles flashed against the glass of the office buildings we passed.

We drove toward the Capitol, where the marble dome stood white against the blue sky.

My phone vibrated again, but I did not look at it.

I knew it was Cole, or what was left of his network, trying to find a way out.

“The General has been in closed-door sessions since eight this morning,” Merritt said without turning around.

“The Senate Armed Services Committee is reviewing the procurement logs from the Amman depot.”

“Did they find the off-book accounts?” I asked.

“They found the routing numbers,” Merritt said.

“But they need the decryption key to prove the funds were moved by Cole’s direct order.”

I tapped my leather purse.

“The key is here,” I said.

The car moved through a security checkpoint, the tires bumping over the heavy metal yellow barriers.

Two armed guards checked our credentials before waving us through to the basement garage.

The garage was cool, damp, and smelled of exhaust.

Merritt got out and opened my door.