“You always underestimated my team, Grant,” I said.

I did not look at my phone, but I knew the security protocols were holding.

“The network compromise you see is a honeypot,” I said. “We built that server three months ago specifically for Arthur to hack.”

Arthur’s smile faded.

His hand stayed in his pocket, but his fingers began to twitch.

“That’s impossible,” Arthur muttered. “I verified the routing codes myself.”

“You verified the codes we allowed you to see,” I said. “Every file you uploaded tonight was flagged with a digital signature. The moment your buyers tried to access them, their IP addresses were routed directly to our cyber command.”

Grant took a step back, his boots slipping on the wet concrete.

“No,” Grant said. “No, we had a deal.”

“Your deal was with a ghost, Grant,” I said.

Arthur lunged forward, his hand coming out of his pocket.

He was holding a small, silver thumb drive, intending to smash it against the workbench.

I stepped in, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it downward.

The joint popped, and Arthur cried out, dropping the drive.